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leatherbootlace · 2 years

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oh hey kinda forgot but i’ve like slowly been putting together some characterizations for the skarloey railway coaches (starting with the tv series ones cause i’m a yankee fool) so uh have at it.

of course, the irony there means that i’ve now created a plethora of ocs that i will never be able to write stories for help

Original Sprites by Princess-Muffins & Cj-The-Creator Any & All Modifications made by Myself, LeatherBootlace.

Characterizations below the cut or you can read them on my DeviantArt Here:

Agnes (She/Her) is one of the oldest coaches on the Skarloey Railway. She is deep-voiced and proud of being a first-class carriage, and looks down on the other coaches - even her own sisters. She is the leader of the rake, and believes that whatever she says goes. Her temper can run quite hot whenever she doesn't get her way. Ruth (She/Her) is a second-class carriage, and often finds herself peacekeeper among the other carriages. She is a quiet coach, and very close with the engines, particularly Skarloey and Rheneas. Rumor has it she has a rather sinister side to her that she keeps under lock and key unless absolutely necessary. Jemima (She/Her/It/Its) has gone somewhat deaf over the years, and often has to understand others with the help of Ruth. It is quite silly and tends to joke, though she has a hard time dealing with stress and prefers to ignore it and carry on without a care in the world. Lucy (They/Them/It/Its) is the runt of the rake, and has been for quite some time. They were made with weak frames, and often limp along the line whenever it goes out with the others. Most of its siblings are gone now, and they tend to get wound up in a frenzy whenever they panic. Strangely enough, Agnes is rather protective of it, and often calls them "Lulu". Beatrice (They/Them/She/Her) is looked down on by the other coaches, who often claim they "smell of fish and cheese". Beatrice pays no attention to their words, as she knows she's very useful. They are the closest to Skarloey and Rheneas next to Ruth, and is quite fond of the Guards she's had over the years.

Geanie (It/Its) is a Quarryman's Coach, and one of three carriages who came from Lancaster Wagon Co. during the 1860s. It is highly opinionated and prone to sulking, and often wishes it wasn't delegated to such lowly work. Skarloey & Rheneas often tell it to be careful what it wishes for, but Geanie could care less what the engines say. Thera (She/Her/They/Them) is arguably the most colorful thing in the quarry. A highly peppery and friendly carriage, her endless optimism has helped her make the worst of a bad situation. They do their best to keep Geanie from sulking, even if it can be an endless struggle. She believes one day both of them will be able to escape their lot in life, even if that day is a long way away.

Melody (They/Them/She/Her) was part of the second rake purchased by the Skarloey Railway from Brown, Marshalls & Co. A lively and rambunctious sort who can be rather controlling at times, they believe in preserving the 'harmony' of the railway - the status quo, if you will. She doesn't take kindly to change, and there have been times where the carriages often are in a ruckus just because she insists on having things their way. Ariana (They/Them) is very much like Melody, and the two are very close. They carry a rather "holier-than-thou" aura to themself, which is ironic considering how much they love catching up on the gossip of the line. Though some have fallen victim to their flattery, the other coaches - particularly Agnes - believe them to be nothing more than a silver-tongued snake, biding their time for the perfect chance to strike. Clarissa (He/Him/She/Her) is an exceptionally bright carriage on the Skarloey Railway. Smart as a whip, he carries interests in some of the more extraordinary things in life - well, extraordinary by rolling stock standards. She's one of the few truly literate members of the railway's carriages, and often asks to see the latest paper from the Guard whenever he has the chance. But for all her book-smarts, he can be rather easily outwitted, something she takes great offense at. Kelsey (It/Its) feels a great deal of pressure to keep up appearances. For all its pride and glory, it's quite paranoid about being replaced one day by newer, more modern carriages. It can be quite fierce at times when the other carriages receive maintenance, and often insists on being the first to receive repairs at any chance, even if the other coaches are in more need of it. Iris (She/Her) is hardly as uppity as the other coaches, for better or for worse. As Guard's Van, her importance is quiet well felt by the rest of the rake, even if she doesn't see it personally herself. A melancholy sort who gets distraught over so much as the slightest inconvenience, if anything goes wrong, there will never be an end to it with her around. Beatrice tries their best to console her, but even she can only do so much.

Lillian (She/Her/It/Its) is one of the coaches in the Summer Rake, and is known for being a carriage with unwavering morals. A carriage known all around for her pure-heart, she believes every part of the railway is just as important as the other - from the lowly truck to the mighty engine. It enjoys her position immensely for how it gives it a chance to embrace the summer sun on her trains, though it can seem fleeting given how long the rake spends shut away in the carriage sheds. Beverly (They/Them) is one of the coaches in the Summer Rake. They're a remarkably fickle coach, who tends to carry grudges much longer than some may consider to be healthy. Their haughty attitude often gets the better of them, which usually means receiving a stern word from the others. They have great memory, meaning they'll never forget even the smallest of slight against them. Lenora (She/Her) is one of the coaches in the Summer Rake. She's the most social of them all by a long shot, and is often the one to greet the passengers at stations or along the way. She can be known to be talkative, and often rambles on and on without a care in the world. She tries her best not to do so, at the other coaches insistence, for fear she might come off as rude, but she'd love one day to be able to talk as much as she likes. Ridley (He/Him/They/Them) is one of the coaches in the Summer Rake. Unlike most coaches, he's rather shy, and doesn't say much unless spoken to. As they're often marshalled next to Lenora, this can be a bit overwhelming for him on most occasions. In fact, most things tend to overwhelm them. The other coaches, the passengers, not to mention small spaces. Some days, Ridley would just like to be left alone to his own devices.

#ttte #ttte fanart #rws #railway series #skarloey railway #ttte coaches #i've had to bend lore over and under itself to justify why some of these coaches are here #i've no idea how awdry manages to do it but massive props to you old man #if only you could have actually used your rolling stock characters properly #people say a bunch of engines introduced in the hit & miller eras have no characters #but let me ask you this #what the FUCK are gertrude and millicent like hmm???#what are THEIR characters???#some things about this franchise just drive me up the wall i cannot wait to start branching out #my next major lorebending scheme will likely be twisting rusty to the rescue into a workable canon INCLUDING the other bluebell engines #followed by figuring out how tf to tackle magic railroad #don't even want to think about misty island rescue right now #Bootlace's TTTE AU

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dimepdf · 2 years

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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓. + 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. maybe you did have a skirt kink?

pairing. football player!gojo satoru x reader

word count. 3.4K

genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, football player au, mutual pinning, pwp, don't squint at the plot too hard now, idk how sports work, secret relationship, hookups, commitment issues, skirt kink, jealousy, heated kissing, teasing, touchy gojo, pussy drunk, car sex, backseat sex, oral (f), fingering, slight bratty reader, mentions of praise kink, name calling, pet names, unprotected sex(wrap before you tap), leather against skin, NOT BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

It was the night of Gojo’s homecoming game. Football players spread across the field as the crowd roared, cheering for their respective university teams.

In all honesty, you didn’t know little to anything about football, let alone sports, flinching out every time the students that sat on the bleachers next to you would scream out in excitement or shoot up from their seats to clap and cheer.

The word "bored" doesn't accurately convey how uninterested you were and how little you knew about college football. You didn't feel much better not understanding a single event that had unfolded while sitting in the brisk fall air.

Your ears and fingers were nearly numb from the absence of sufficient warming layers on your body, and you were shivering in the denim jacket you had stolen from Gojo's closet.

As the game entered the fourth quarter, you were trembling with each gust of wind and fidgeting with the gem-layered pendant that rested against your chest.

It was obvious from the scoreboard, which you had to squint your eyes to see from the stands, that Gojo's team would win. The final score resulting, 38-14, caused students to stand up and shout in unbridled joy as the rest of the football team ran towards the field to celebrate their victory.

You still felt out of place despite being surrounded by so much school spirit, chanting, and screaming. In an effort to blend in with the crowd as much as possible, you sat as far away from the field as you could.

Watching Gojo celebrate with his teammates, shouting out in excitement and playfully tackling them into hugs, his long arms slinging over players so effortlessly, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

You found it strange to hear other women gossiping and giggling about Gojo, saying things that you would utterly concur with.

But the rumor that he was a sex god and was extremely strict about who he chose to hook up with was what you despised the most. How only the luckiest of pretty girls would he tempt back to his bedroom.

Even though you were hooking up with Gojo and had plans to return to his apartment tonight to give him some, you resisted the urge to lean in and let everyone know because you knew that doing so would make you appear crazy.

Realizing this would make you a colossal hypocrite since you were the ones who caused the difficulties in your relationship with Gojo.

Being overly protective of your own heart and unwilling to let the blue-eyed playboy with a long history of "sleeping around" have to close a relationship with you.

You managed to make out his trademark white hair, which is typically styled but was now pulled back over his eyes.

You also noticed his prince charming smile, the skin that peaked out from under his jersey, and the figure that shimmered from the sweat drips covering his entire body, making him look like a magazine model under the field lights.

His eyes scanned the sea of people until they finally met yours, sending a chill down your spine.

When he saw you so out of your element and knew you were doing it specifically for him, his Chester-like smile only got bigger.

He winked as he returned his focus to his coach, leaving you fiddling against the bitterly cold bleacher seats as well as the girls seated in front of you giggling as if the gesture was intended only for them to lean against each other in an out-of-control fit.

You reminded yourself that the only reason you had endured it all was because of the stupid deal Gojo had made with you as your hands clenched against your thighs in frustration.

“How about we make a little bet ___, if i win this game you have to give me a special reward.”

Any bet you placed with Gojo was akin to making a deal with the devil himself.

The winding game of cat and mouse with you resolutely giving in to his childish antics, beckoning your attention until you fall back into his trap with enough time to have you pressed against the cool tile of the guy's locker room way after practice hours.

Fucking you stupid until you gain back that tiny sense of commitment-related fear by ignoring him entirely the next day.

Gojo and you had been hooking up for long enough for him to understand that every time you pulled away, he would just snap back much harder despite your foul mood.

When you needed a quick reminder of how good he would make you feel or how well he already knew your body to turn you into a trembling mess unable to stand up by yourself, he was always there with open arms.

And each time you fall for it. The dick was simply too good to throw away entirely.

Because of this, you kept up your end of the bargain, swallowing the last of your pride, and stood in the parking lot's darkness to observe how the other students filed through the gates along the curb.

Around the time Gojo emerged from the locker room, the crowd had vanished quickly, going about their respective lives as they drove away in their cars.

Except for a few staff vehicles scattered about, the parking lot was deserted as you watched him approach closer while tossing his gym bag over his shoulder.

His phone initially caught his attention, not taking notice of you, swiping his thumb against the screen.

His head jerked up at the light ding notification from the phone in your pocket, and he followed it with his eyes, grinning to see you shivering by the curb for him.

He looked at your baggy outfit and lifted his brow, saying, "I'm going to be pretty disappointed if you aren't wearing my gift under that." He teases you by strolling past you with a yawn that seems uninterested, each long stride ending in the direction of his car as you simply followed his trail with a huff.

"Don't fucking worry. I've been freezing my ass the entire game wearing this stupid thing." Unbutton until the midsection of your torso to show a glimpse of the brightly colored cropped cheer uniform top you had tucked away under the fuzzy inside of his jacket, deciding there would be no harm in just giving him a peek.

The cut ending just under the curve of your ribs exposes the pudge of your stomach entirely. The uniform was very obviously designed for cookie-cutter, precisely shaped cheerleaders with pale skin, ponytails, and thin bodies who looked like they belonged in any stereotypical teen movie.

Gojo almost drooled at the material you had to squeeze yourself into, clinging to every curve and crevice of your body.

You pulled the hem down, but it still didn't cover much since you could see the skin of your torso next to the top's strangely clashing colors.

Gojo trapped you against the passenger side door, looming over you, and murmuring, "I think you've got to be the prettiest girl on the team ___." He spoke in a deep voice that made it difficult for you to look him in the eye, your thighs threatening to squeeze together as his hands crept under the jacket around your hips.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I look exactly like your basic ass type. Can you hurry and just unlock your car before someone fucking sees us already?" The Gojo was giving you all of his attention, but you were good at ignoring him to a point, pressing your palm flat against his muscular chest.

His fingers reached out to grab you by the jaw as he only leaned in closer, maintaining his smile the entire time. He did this to forcefully draw all of your attention to him.

"That’s not very school spirit of you, ___. Shouldn’t you be congratulating me on winning?" It was all an act to enrage you even more, but it was working due to the pout on his lips and the way he glared down at you.

You try to stop your heart from racing by pulling your face away from his hold and crossing your arms.

It appeared as though he had cornered you and was treating you like prey—just another bug that had gotten caught in his web. You could feel Gojo's words brushing against your skin as he hummed, "You know, you have such a fucking potty mouth," sending a shiver up your spine.

His long fingers caressed your hips as he purposefully wedged his leg between yours. His light touch now extended under the jacket with both of his hands.

He pressed against you until you could feel the print of his erection against your stomach as your back rested against the car window. "I’ll forgive you if you show me the skirt."

"Gojo." In a plea, you breathe out his name.

The last thing you wanted to do was to be caught flaunting some poor girl's stolen uniform when you were already feeling self-conscious about only showing the top.

"___." He rolled his eyes and moved away, saying, "That's too bad, I only give rides to pretty girls in skirts." In a bored tone, he told you. His normally innocent smile had been replaced by an uninterested glare as he cocked his head.

He was practically swinging bait in your face, and you knew that the only thing he seemed to enjoy more than playing football was teasing you.

As a result, you became the first to play along with his scheme.

As you reached down and untied your sweatpants, shimming to pull them down to your thighs, a matching skirt set was revealed from beneath the gray cotton, his eyes never leaving yours until you broke eye contact first.

He breathed out at the view of your thighs crammed into the snug cuffed ends of the skirt's safety shorts watching as his eyes take in the sight of your body.

You weren't sure why you were acting so shocked when Gojo chuckled and reached out to pinch the plush of your legs, but he quickly pulled back before he could become overly excited by touching you.

"Okay, you've persuaded both my dick and me. If you don't want me to fuck you in the open parking lot, get in the car, slut."

The journey to wherever he was taking you seemed a lot worse to you. Your exposed thigh is being squeezed by his hand, which seems to be rising steadily.

If you knew he was going to tease you for the next twenty minutes, you would much rather have him fuck you in the parking lot. Not enough of the music blaring from the radio could help you calm down as you writhed at the growing need from beneath your skirt.

Even with the sun gone and the roads seeming like a maze at night, you could tell from the turns and exits which spot he had turned into.

His fingers danced across the precarious line of fingering you in his car or not while his eyes were fixed firmly on the road.

You even spread your legs wide to get the perfect angle for his hand, but he moved quickly to step back just far enough to deny you what you were pleading for.

What a fucking tease.

"You're so fucking insufferable," you grumbled, causing him to laugh heartily.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," he quips. "You act like you're not eating this shit up."

"You think I like being dressed like this?"

"You agreed to it," he reminded you, his hand laying a teasing smack against your thigh. "Just admit that you fantasize about being folded like some cheap slut in a porno. I won't kink shame, angel."

"Don't call me that," you whined. "I’m not some fucking slut."

“Well yeah duh,” he grinned side eyeing you only for a second. “But you’ll sound like one when I'm done with you.”

He backed into a more private space further into the deserted parking lot, engaged the car in park, and turned the radio volume down until it was barely audible over the sound of the late night.

He slapped his hands against the steering wheel, leaned back against his seat, let out an exasperated sigh, and then grinned impishly in your direction.

“The stars look just as pretty as you, ___.”

"Oh yeah, and how many girls do you usually say that to?" Rolling your eyes, you tried to contain the warmth that accompanied the sincere compliment.

"Only to the cheap sluts that I really want to fuck." He responded dryly, watching with a gulp as his eyes glanced at your lips. "You’re driving me crazy, baby." He finally snapped, leaning over the dash to kiss you, only being able to hold the whole arrogant persona for so long before he needed you as much as you needed him.

You couldn't claim to have much prior experience having sex in a vehicle.

His room or yours would typically be where the two of you would spend time alone, but since your roommates were home and Gojo's fraternity was probably packed with people throwing a party in his honor, you had to make do with getting down in his car.

Holding yourself in place and pushing yourself closer so that you wouldn't completely topple forward, all you had to do was twist and strain.

You could just tell from the low grunts and small sighs that Gojo was getting a bit frustrated, his long limbs cramped into the small space. "Can’t you just sneak me into your place?"

"Oh yeah, you could just introduce yourself to my roommates while your balls are deep inside of me, maybe even shake my parent's hand and tell them about your skirt kink too."

"God, you're such a fucking bitch." Gojo sighed, nipping at your bottom lip, "you're lucky I'm into that." Gojo sighed, licking his lips before opening his door.

After he slammed the door shut, the overhead light flickered, and you puzzledly watched as he opened the back door rather than crawling into his seat before turning to you with an expectant look that beckoned you to join him.

You managed to crawl through the seats with a bit of a struggle, settling yourself against the other door as Gojo guided your legs apart to make room to slot himself in. "Best gift ever," he muttered as you changed into your full-fledged outfit, shedding the jacket and sweats that had covered you to the ground.

The moment that Gojo had ducked under the hem of your skirt, your fingers tangled a handful of his hair in a fist, shivering at his eagerness, feeling his teeth tease against the skin of your thigh. Finally, paying much attention to the eagerness between them, his fingers probed and nudged against your clit until he had hooked your underwear to the side.

Your body responded before you could even process what was happening. His tongue teased at your clit, his fingers dipped between your folds, and the sound of your breathy groans spurred him on to move swiftly.

With your needy whimpers, fingers clamping down firmly in the nest of his hair, grinding against his fingers, and the sensation of your legs twitching and quivering, just the taste of you on his tongue was like unwrapping another reward.

However, you weren't a fool.

You were aware of how pussy drunk Gojo became each time he would eat you out, usually wanting to have you stumble out his name with tears threatening to prickle your eyes. When it came to going down on you, he was the type to lick the plate clean.

This is why you were taken aback when Gojo suddenly stopped and raised the material on your skirt to look you in the eyes.

He continued to work his fingers in and out of you as if he weren't attempting to carry on a conversation while teasing, "Be honest, you so have a skirt kink."

As you attempted to comprehend the question, let alone provide a sarcastic response, your lashes fluttered and your head spun.

Any train of thought that tried to escape your mind as Gojo's fingers worked their magic "I-i'm." is the only thing you could stutter out.

"I-I, you what baby?" His laughter made you squint your eyes shut, and you covered your face with your hands as he mocked you in a flat tone.

Gojo leaned up and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling your hands away from your face to give you a more delicate kiss on the lips, muttering mostly to himself, "You're so cute."

Leaning into his touch, you suddenly felt his fingers pull away from you, making a humiliating wet sound that you ignored since Gojo had already diverted his attention to another part of your body. He was fondling your breast through the crop top as his fingers explored.

You could tell from the way Gojo smiled against your mouth that he was biting back on making some stupid joke the moment that his fingers made out the bud of your nipples.

As he pulls away, his other hand switches back to tracing the plush of your thighs before quickly removing your skirt.

He peeled it off of you without a bat of the eye, not wanting to struggle with the safety shorts that were sewn in under it like he had to do when he had blindly gone down on you.

Bumping his elbow and leg against leather seats as he sat up trying to strip his own shirt, a loud thump jortles you from your daze. Only then had you realized Gojo’s hiss of pain.

His normally pale face was now flushed pink, and he scrunched his brow, rubbing the back of his head. "This is the thanks I get for having such a big dick.”

He leaned back down, perfectly squeezing himself between your spread legs, and asked, "Wanna kiss it better?" while getting dangerously close to your lips. He didn't wait for a response simply because he could tell you were only glancing at his lips.

His head dove to hide in the crook of your neck with a grunt, as your fingers searched for the bulge that reacted with a twitch after you had grabbed him by the elastic of his shorts.

You didn't hesitate, never did, knowing what you both wanted as his fingers spread your pussy apart.

You couldn't help but feel intoxicated while listening to his shift in breathing as your hand guided his length to press against exactly where you wanted it.

Sharing a relieved gasp as he shifted his hips against yours, the feeling of him burying himself inside you completely, Gojo was too lost in the bliss to joke about how good it felt to have you clench around him.

Your hips move in unison, seemingly motivated by a primal urge to pursue the intense arousing sensation that had been building up.

Gojo, rubbing his thumb in circles against your clit while whimpering into your neck about how gorgeous you were.

As the intensity of his thrusts increased, steam built up on the car's windows, and the air became humid as the car's slight creak gave way to the weight shifting inside.

Few actual words were spoken because the two of you were too preoccupied with making each other feel good to even form sentences that had any proper finishes.

Gojo readjusted himself, finding the spot that caused your muscles to tighten and spasm. Hooking your leg over his shoulder, nearly causing it to hit the ceiling as he grunted at you while clenching around you continuing his pace until your orgasm unfurled.

Despite being athletic, Gojo went completely slack, falling with his entire weight against your chest, panting as if he were in practice running a mile.

He found calm in the thump of his heartbeat against your chest. "Hey, so about the roommate thing," Gojo spoke after he had eventually caught his breath, cuddling against your chest as his fingers played with your pendant. "I wouldn't mind meeting them, or your parents, or telling anyone honestly; I just would prefer to do it fully clothed if that's okay."

You blinked. "You mean you want this to be like an official thing?" you asked, finally working up enough energy to sit up against the side of the door.

Wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your sweaty bare skin dragging against the leather material of the seats. "Like this, you no longer refer to me as a slut but as your girlfriend instead."

"Well, I still want you to be my slut, but calling you girlfriend doesn't sound too bad either, does it?" Gojo shrugged.

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darkbluekies · 8 months

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i have been DREAMING of a silas torture scene!!! i have literally read, re-read, and re-re-read every word you’ve ever written about that man .. you have no IDEA how much I am going to eat up his torture story 🤭🤭 thank you for feeding us!!! <3<3

In the basement

Mafia!yandere OC x reader

Summary: you find yourself in Silas' basement once again and he decides to try a new torture technique — which backfires.

Warnings: torture, violence, mentions of starvation, manipulation burning, boiling water, mentions of cuts, mentions of sawing off people's limbs, ripping out teeth and nails, blood, beating, (let me know if you find more, I have been editing and rewriting so much that I've forgotten what is in the story at this point)

Word count: 3.5k

You lift your head when you can hear footsteps coming towards you. The mumble of Silas men greeting someone is all you need to know who’s here to see you.

“There we have them”, Silas snickers and clicks his tongue amusedly. He’s acting as if he’s talking to a child. “Are we ready to act like a big girl/boy again?”

You glare up at him, where he stands with his hands in his front pockets. If you could, you’d tackle him until he hits his head, but your ankles are chained to the cold floor.

“I fucking hate you”, you mutter coldly.

“Oh, do you now?” he chuckles cockily and grabs your chin firmly, tilting it up to look at him.

Your neck gets strained beyond its limits. Silas is tall and refuses to crouch down to make it easier for you to look up at him.

"Still disobeying?" he asks. "I thought you'd be good by now. I miss you, little thing. I want to have you back in my arms. Who am I supposed to hug at night?"

"Hug a cactus", you spit. "Suits your pleasant personality-"

Silas chuckles and grabs a fistful of your hair. He sinks down in front of you and forces you to look at him. Your eyes widen in fear and your scalp burns at his fingertips. You can feel your heart beat harshly in your chest. Suddenly, you remember why you've been afraid of him before — why his techniques always work. You seem to forget the basement when you've been let out, everything turning into a blur. All you remember is that you do not want to go back. But somehow, you always manage to.

"You don't want me to be nice, do you?" he asks you. "Want me to break that pretty little head until you're bleeding, hm?"

You shake your head quickly. Suddenly, you've figuratively your tongue — and if you're not careful you'll soon literally lose it.

Silas lets go of your hair and stands up. You keep your head down.

“Hm, what should we do to teach you a lesson?” Silas thinks out loud and takes a hold of your hand. “Should we … break some fingers?”

You shake your head quickly and try to take your hand back. Silas holds it tightly and brings out a lighter from his pocket. You panic and try to rip your hand out of his iron grip. Silas traps you against the wall with his knee and elbow keeping you in place. He shifts his bodyweight onto you and traps your arm onto the wall by securing your wrist to the surface. With his other hand, he brings out his lighter. You squirm desperately under him.

“Alright, I’m not going to break your pretty fingers”, he says. “You need them to please me.”

“Please, please, don’t!” you screech and try to kick him. “Silas, don’t!”

He lights it.

“Do you know how my heart feels right now, Y/N?” he asks calmly. “It’s burning. I think it’s only fair for you to feel it too, to understand how hurt I feel.”

He moves the flame to your arm, holding it under your skin. You cry out in pain and apply more force to your wiggling. A stance of burning flesh reaches your nose. Silas holds the flame for a good thirty seconds before removing it. He brushes some soot off of your arm and bends down to kiss it. He moves on to your next arm, then your waist. You finally manage to pull your arms free and push him away. You try to sink down on the floor, but he lifts you up by your shoulders.

“I need you to stand up for me”, Silas says. “Still with me?”

Your face scrunches up in pain. Silas shakes you carefully.

“Still with me, baby?” he asks in a loving voice that doesn’t match his manners.

You nod weakly. Silas smiles slightly and places you back at the wall. Your poor legs are still cuffed and feeling like jelly. Silas chuckles.

He looks over his shoulder as two of his men come in with four buckets of water. You stare at them with wide eyes. This is new.

“You know I can’t hurt you”, Silas says and walks over to the buckets.

“Can’t hurt me?” you repeat in disbelief and show your arms full of cuts and bruises. “You’ve burned me! You’ve cut me!”

“You should see what he does to people he doesn’t like”, one of his men smirks.

“Don’t talk to them”, Silas warns him and grabs the man by his collar. “Or you’ll get to taste what I do to those I don’t like.”

“Yes, sir, sorry, sir.”

Silas lets him go and grabs one of the buckets. He walks back to you where you stand against the wall. You want to sink into it. With your eyes glued onto the bucket, you open your mouth to ask what he’s going to do but you don’t have time to do so before he throws it at you. You hide your face with your arms and scream. Boiling hot water crashes against your body. Your dirty clothes stick onto you and quickly grow cold. You breathe heavily and look at Silas in shock and pain. He has already turned around to get the next bucket. Suddenly, everything’s ice cold and you scream again. Somehow, it’s worse this time. The quick temperature change feels like sharp needles penetrating your skin. You’re sure that Silas’ men upstairs can hear you by now.

You shake your head in desperation as you see Silas pick up the next bucket.

“Silas, please-”, you cry out.

“You caused this yourself, Y/N”, Silas reminds you. “You have one simple rule: do not leave me. And what did you do?”

You stay quiet. He throws the next buckets full of water. Scorching hot. You scream even louder and start to sob.

“What did you do?” Silas asks testingly and walks over to the last bucket.

“I-I tried to run away!” you cry out and hug your shaking body.

“And?”

He picks up the next bucket.

“I talked to a cop!” you sob and press yourself closer to the cement wall. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do that again! Please don’t hurt me anymore! Please, Silas, I-I’ll do anything!”

Silas scoffs. “You wanted to leave me, get me in trouble and destroy everything I’ve built up these last ten years! And I’m just supposed to … forgive you?”

You sob. You know how proud Silas is of his imperium. He's spent the last ten years building it to become the most fearless and powerful criminal in the country. You just wanted him to feel as helpless as you do.

Silas throws the last bucket at you and an icy waterfall greets you. One last scream leaves your panicked body. You sink down in a curled up ball as you hug your body, trying to keep some kind of warmth and shield. You sob and whimper with your head full of fear and nerve system confused. Silas throws the plastic bucket to the side and walks over to you. He sinks down in front of your body and grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, like he did before.

“What do I need to do to make you obedient?” he asks. “Do I need to kill everyone to make you stay with me?”

“Please …”, you plead through hammering teeth. “Please don’t, please-”

He hushes and cups your cold, wet cheeks.

“You only need me anyway”, he says softly. “All those other people — your family, your friends — they don’t care about you like I do, do they? They just pretend to spare your feelings. Have they even tried to find you? Or help you? They’re probably going on with their lives the same, as if nothing has changed, in this precise moment.”

“You don’t know that”, you whisper and sniffle.

“I do know. I have been watching them.” Silas moves closer to you. “If they really cared about you, they’d tell you when you did something wrong, and then help you fix it. That's what families do, they help you become a better version of yourself. They wouldn’t lie and let you destroy and embarrass yourself. The reason I put you down here, Y/N, is because you're my family, someone I care very much about. I have to teach you a lesson to make sure that you don’t do anything dumb. You’re a danger to yourself. You need me to take care of you, to teach you what is right and wrong.” He caresses your cheeks. “If only you didn’t do such stupid things I wouldn’t have to do these hurtful things. You know I love you.”

You sob and look down.

"Say it back, Y/N", he urges you. "Say that you love me."

"I … I love you", you mumble.

"Good girl/boy."

Silas warm lips presses a hard kiss to your forehead before standing up. You sit frozen while he walks up the stairs.

Silas leaves you alone for another twenty four hours before he walks down again, to see if you’ve broken yet. If you haven’t, he’s going to take your clothes and carve in his name in your leg to force you to see his name every time you open your eyes. He sees you curled up in a ball in the corner of the dark, cold basement. You’re not moving.

“Are you sleeping, baby?” he smirks. “Rise and shine, we have work to do! We’re not done yet.”

You don’t move. You must be weak from hunger.

“If you act well today, I might get you something to eat”, he smiles and walks over to you. “Would you like that?”

He’s much, much nicer to you than to the other people who have the displeasure of ending up in his basement. He would never talk to them as sweetly as he does to you, never negotiate with them like this. He would never change his torture methods to be nicer to anyone else but you.

“Y/N.”

You don’t give him any attention. Silas rolls his eyes and grabs your hair to turn your face to him. You moan out a weak painful sound. Something’s wrong, Silas can tell that. He sinks down in front of you and presses his hand to your forehead.

Shit.

Silas can feel how his heart skips a beat. He should have realized that you would have gotten sick if he left you in this cold basement in your ice cold, soaked clothes and hair. He gulps and cups your cheeks.

“Are you awake?” he asks quickly. “Baby, look at me.”

You open your eyes slowly and look at him with dull, glossy eyes. Silas looks over his shoulder, towards the stairs.

“Get me the keys to the cuffs!” he roars.

He turns back to you and hastily brushes the hair out of your face.

“Hold out, darling”, he says softly. “You’ll be taken care of as soon as I get the key.”

You cough out a weak sound that seem to come from deep inside of you. Silas helps you by patting your back.

A woman comes down and gives Silas’ his keys. He hurries to uncuff your ankles and pick your warm, limp body up in his arms. He hurries up the basement stairs and then up the next stairs to your bedroom. He takes your cold clothes off of you and gives you new, dry ones. His sweatpants, his t-shirt. You black out right away. He takes the time to take care of your older cuts and your newer burns before tucking you in bed. Silas watches you with a burning gaze. He clenches his jaw before walking out of the room. His second in command stands downstairs.

"You", he says angrily.

"Yes, boss?" he asks and looks up from his phone. "What can I help you with?"

"Go up to the bedroom and watch over Y/N. I don't want them to be alone."

"Sure, but what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to work a bit. I need to get my mind on other things."

"I will watch them for you."

"Thank you." He grabs his shoulder. "You know the rules. Recite them."

"I will not talk to them if not necessary. I will not answer any questions and I will not touch them if not necessary. I will let you know right away if something is wrong.”

Silas nods and walks away. He walks into his office and sits down behind his desk. Although he tries to concentrate on paperwork, anger is boiling through his veins. He doesn’t know what he’s angry at — himself, you or his men. Himself for forgetting that you could get extremely sick, his men for not warning him … or you for getting out of your punishment before he had gotten to the point he wanted. He tells himself that this sudden sickness is a part of your punishment, but it doesn’t help his racing heart.

Silas pours himself a glass of brandy, in hopes to calm his nerves. The liquid burns down his throat and warms up his body, but it doesn’t help. Before he can stop himself, he throws the glass as hard as he can against the wall. It shatters into a million pieces. The door opens quickly.

“Boss, what’s wrong?” one of his men asks.

“Get me someone I can mangle or else I’ll go insane”, Silas breathes out through gritted teeth. “Take someone from the street if you have to — just bring me someone I can kill.”

You open your eyes and feel how a lump has grown in your throat. You try to cough and rip your entire vocal chords with it. A cough attack erupts from deep inside your stomach. Every cough hurts worse than the one before and every breath in feels as dry as an ocean.

“Oh, careful”, a voice says and helps you sit up. He holds a glass of water to your lips. “Drink up.”

You recognize the man beside you. Silas’ second in command? Where’s Silas?

“You’re awake”, he states and stands up from his chair after putting down the glass. “I’ll go get the boss-”

You panic and shake your head.

“Please stay.” You’re caught by surprise that your voice comes out as nasally and thick as it does, although it shouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. “Don’t get him.”

“I have rules to follow.”

“I have to ask you something first.”

The second in command sighs and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. He looks tired, but you can’t let him leave until you’ve had your question answered.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m not allowed to answer your questions”, he says.

“I really need an answer”, you plead.

“Silas will answer-”

“I don’t want his answer. He’ll lie to me. Please.”

He sighs and turns to you with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “Let me hear the question first.”

“What do Silas do to the people he doesn’t like?”

Silas runs his hand through his sweaty hair. The man in front of him cries out. Silas has continued to throw punch after punch, using this strange man as a boxing doll. His fists are sore and bloody. Sweat drips down his back. The man in front of him has gotten his teeth pulled out with pliers, his hair has gotten cut down to his bleeding roots and nails have been ripped off. Silas had forgotten to gag him at first but the second the first loud scream exited the man's body, all he could see in front of him was your terrified eyes waking up to it.

"Boss, Y/N’s awake", a voice behind him says. Second in command.

"Fuck, I'm all bloody", Silas mutters and looks down at his black jeans and shirt that he's pulled the sleeves up on. "I can’t go up like this. Get me a washcloth."

The second in command drowns a cloth in a bucket of water. Silas uses it to scrub his arms, neck and face while walking up to you. When he opens the door, he finds you sitting up in bed, hugging your knees close to your chest.

"Hi, baby, how are you feeling?" he asks and sits down on the side of the bed.

Your eyes scan hum warily, stopping at his arms. Traces of blood can still be visible in the hair strands. Silas pulls down his sleeves.

"Don't worry about that", he says with an embarrassed smile. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"It hurts."

Silas reaches out to caress your cheek, but you flinch away. He frowns.

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore", he says carefully.

“Why are you bloody?” you whisper. “What have you done?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Why do you have to like me? Why do I have to go through this?”

You start to ramble for yourself and Silas hushes loudly.

“You’re not making any sense, little thing”, he says. “Slow down, take a deep breath.”

“Why do you do those things to people?” you almost hyperventilate before starting to cough.

Tears flow down your cheeks. You’re absolutely hysteric. Silas freezes. You know something.

“Why do I do what?” he asks quickly, grabbing your shoulders tightly. “Did someone tell you anything? What did they say?”

You sob and shake your head.

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me what someone has put in your head-”, Silas says sternly.

“You saw off people’s limbs!” you sob. “You … y-you-”

“Y/N, enough. Who told you?”

You don’t answer. Another cough attack erupts. Silas starts to get annoyed.

“Y/N, who told you?” he asks through gritted teeth. “If you’re trying to hide someone, I’m throwing you back into the basement right away, with a fever or not.”

You sigh and glance up at him in pure fear. “Your second in command …”

“That motherfucker-”

Silas lets go off your shoulders and fly up from the bed. He can’t help but feel a deep ache in his heart. His second in command has been with him since he started his ‘organization’ — he’s been with him through thick and thin, had his back through everything. Him, out of anyone, knows the rules better. Silas trusts him to keep an eye on you alone, knowing that he would never betray him … or at least believing that.

He grabs his second in command and throws him against the wall.

“Traitor!” Silas growls. “You told them?!”

“They said that they had to know!” the second in command answered loudly, defending himself. “They wanted to know if you really love them! They wanted to know if you really were softer on them than others! They thought you’d lie if they asked you! I did you a fucking favour!”

They meet eyes for a few seconds before Silas curses and lets him go. He backs away, running his hand through his black hair.

“Silas, I didn’t do anything to betray you”, the second in command says calmly. “I answered Y/N’s question in your favor. If I didn’t, they’d be even more wary of you.”

Silas doesn’t answer. His head and his heart are battling.

He notices how you’re sitting at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing, coughing into your arm. You’ve dragged yourself out of bed to stop him, but you couldn’t get far enough before your weak, aching body betrayed you.

“Y/N, what are you doing out of bed?!” Silas says sternly. “You need to rest!”

He runs up the stairs and picks you up. You’re tucked in again.

“If you leave the bed again, I’ll have to cuff you”, he says carefully. “I don’t want you running around — especially when you’re sick.”

You’re very familiar with the chains that he uses to keep you in bed. Silas climbs sinto bed and sits on top of your legs to make sure you stay in place.

“Y/N, Y/N, listen to me”, he says and cups your cheeks. “I could never do those things to you. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“You hurt me”, you remind him through sobs. “Even if it wasn’t as bad as you do to others, you still hurt me!”

“You know I don’t want to, but I have to. I have to make sure you don’t do stupid things like this — asking my men about my work. You know better than this and I know that. That’s why I’m helping you get back on the right track. If I don’t, you become like this, all frantic and scared. Why don’t you just let me protect you? Aren’t you tired of getting your heart in trouble? I know you are, baby …”

You sob which to him seems to be all the answers he needs.

“Trust me”, Silas says. “Trust that I know what’s best for you and you will never have to feel this kind of pain and fear again, okay?”

You can feel how your body starts to relax against your will. Silas wipes your tears and kisses your forehead.

“My pretty, little baby”, he whispers comfortingly. “Everything will be okay. As long as I'm here, nothing will ever happen to you. I'll make sure of it, I'll help you.”

You sob and close your eyes. Once again, he wins.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere oc

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luvymelody · 8 days

Text

NAME : katsuki bakugou , boku no hero academia

SONG : apple cider , beabadoobee

SUMMARY : y/n gets hit with a quirk, making their mostly stoic facade disappear, turning into a more clingy, more flirty in a way? wc : 1.8k

(y/ns quirk is practically earth-bending. its not really important tho so like dont worry)

(set around the time where they have dorms and hero license)

y/n smiled in the chair as they sat, patiently waiting as they tapped their feet on the floor and recovery girl looked around their figure, looking for any injuries.

"so, i don't see any injuries. i only see the personality change."

"they are okay though, right?"

bakugou asked, arms crossed as he leaned on the wall near the door of the nurse's office as he looked down to the ground, his eyes gazing up to the smiling y/n.

"yeah they are. i believe it's made them the opposite personality they are, simple thing really- it'll last for about a week. for now, i think it's best you act like everything's normal. say yes to whatever they say. i also don't believe they'll remember anything the next week-"

"katsuki!"

"yeah i know, idiot!"

bakugou yelled out, using his quirk to jump up into the air to avoid the villains running to tackle him, using his explosions on the villain coming his way. y/n stomped the ground as the ground made a crumbled path towards a group of villains, sending them into the air and todoroki froze them in air using his ice.

there was a villain hiding in the alleyway near the fight, watching his group being beaten by just three measly high schoolers. yeah they might be in the hero course but they were still teenagers!

"i think.. we're done.."

y/n breathed out, their hands resting on their hips as the two other guys went to stand with y/n, walking towards them.

"god, i did most of the work."

bakugou said, panting slowly as todoroki breathed out ice. y/n glanced around the area, seeing civilians taking photos of them on the sidelines of the streets.

"katsuki, your turn to take photos with civilians."

"hah? no way."

"me and shoto did it yesterday, your turn."

"argh, you're useless!"

bakugou yelled out, begrudgingly stomping his way to the civilians as they squealed, hitting each other and fixing themselves up in their phone cameras.

y/n watched as bakugou walked away, admiring him in a way. y/n's class saw them as the quiet, but powerful and strong person. y/n didn't mind it as todoroki was the same. but rather, y/n admired bakugou. even if they were friends and seemed to be considered 'close'. it's not like you can't admire your friends, right?

y/n's eyes glided back towards todoroki, but then suddenly a dash of colour came into their view, as they looked towards it and turns out, there was a villain aiming for bakugou, who didn't see, still walking towards the civilians as they didn't notice the villain either, too focused on bakugou.

without thinking, y/n's feet dashed towards bakugou, pushing him out of the way as the villain's hand latched onto their face, their eyes fluttering shut as y/n passed out on the ground.

bakugou stumbled forward, turning around and seeing y/n on the floor, their eyes closed and the villain standing over them. bakugou respected y/n in a way, they were strong, stronger than the whole class, even bakugou could admit. there was admiration that bakugou felt for y/n, he was also fearful of possible feelings that he felt for y/n, pushing them down.

"..who do you think you are, you villain?!"

bakugou yelled, his hands behind him as he launched himself towards the villain, his hands latching onto the villain's shoulder as bakugou sent him tumbling to the ground.

"what did you do to them, hah?"

todoroki ran to y/n, crouching down and checking their pulse.

"they're just passed out."

todoroki said to bakugou, who looked back at him and then bakugou looked back down to the villain on the floor, his knee digging into the villain's back.

"what's your quirk? and you better tell me straight or else."

y/n walked down the hall with bakugou by their side, y/n linking their arm as they held bakugou's arm who's hands were in his pockets.

"katsuki! are you hungry?"

"mhm yeah. do you want me to make you something?"

"oh yeah please!"

y/n became nicer, more clingy with everyone, but mostly bakugou. bakugou felt his chest warm up at the tone of voice y/n used to call his name, 'katsuki!' .

they made their way together to the kitchen, as bakugou made his way to the fridge and cabinets, taking some ingredients and setting them on the counter.

"do you want me to help, katsuki?"

"just sit there and look pretty."

bakugou said, setting down the egg carton on the counter, before walking over to y/n, picking them up by the waist, both hands firmly on the side of their waist as he lifted them up to sit on the counter next to the stove.

y/n payed no mind to bakugou's touch, smiling wide as they swung their feet, their feet not touching the ground.

a good thing about this quirk effect was how sweet y/n was. bakugou was used to the nonchalantly y/n, pretty y/n sitting there like no one was bothered by how pretty they were, even if they acted so stoic all the damn time.

another good thing was bakugou could make this into his advantage, try to make y/n feel giddy in a way. it's not like they’ll remember anything, right?

bakugou grabbed an egg out of it's place. grabbing four and cracking them into a bowl while separating the whites and the yolk.

"can i mix the yolk?"

y/n asked, twindling their fingers as they waited for bakugou's response as he looked sideways to look at them.

"yeah, here."

bakugou handed y/n the bowl of yolks while also handing them a pair of chopsticks, watching y/n mix the yolks while they stuck their tongue out a little in focus. bakugou forcing his eyes to look away to put rice into the rice cooker.

bakugou watched as y/n ate their omelette, eating his omelette calmly as y/n practically swallowed the whole meal in 3 bites. quickly finishing it as they waited for bakugou to finish his.

"what do you wanna do, pretty?"

bakugou mumbled, putting their dishes in the sink, thinking 'class rep is gonna do them anyway'. y/n heard his voice, smiling softly.

"i'm sleepy, can we have a sleepover in your dorm?"

bakugou nodded, bringing his hand towards y/n's as he clutched onto it, bringing y/n to the elevator.

the next day, it was a friday. class 1-a got excused from class early to rest. it was a friday anyway. nonetheless, the class cherished the rare wide smiles that y/n was giving them, doing whatever they could to make y/n smile bigger.

"guys! i say we have a movie night tonight!"

mina said, her hand in the air to direct the classes attention to her.

"what movie?"

"let's binge watch all the harry potter movies!"

"hell nah cuh"

eventually, the whole class agreed. mostly everyone set up the comfy area of blankets and pillows, making a little oval around the large couch that sat infront of the large flat screen tv that the dorms had supplied for the students.

bakugou only agreed to come to sit next to y/n, as close as he could, and no one could comment on it because y/n wanted to sit next to bakugou!

y/n sat in the floor, their back leaning on the couch as kirishima sat on the couch behind them, y/n between his legs. bakugou sat on their left, the closet people to him were kirishima and y/n. y/n’s legs were under a blanket to create warm underneath, bakugou also under the blanket close to y/n. y/n held onto bakugou’s hand, playing with his fingers as bakugou watched y/n’s hands work.

no one could see anyway, bakugou thinks a bird just got murdered, but he doesn’t know, nor care really.

y/n gingerly intertwines their fingers, rubbing their thumb along bakugou’s own. y/n places a leg between bakugou’s legs, getting impossibly close to him as bakugou lets it happen, getting closer to y/n aswell.

“what you doing, dumbass?”

bakugou whispered, not letting anyone else but y/n hear his voice, it was slightly raspy in a way, he had never talked in such a soft tone.

“jus’ wanna get close to you..”

y/n admitted, looking up into bakugou’s eyes. thank god the lights were off and the tv was emitting a small bit of light, bakugou’s face was burning, but maybe y/n could already tell by his sweaty palms. he’s had to wipe his hands on the blanket several times already.

y/n looked around to their classmates, leaning into bakugou’s ear as they placed a hand over their mouth to cover their voice. at the same time, bakugou placed his hand on y/n’s lower back, leaning his ear towards them.

“can i sit between your legs?”

y/n asked, leaning back out with a soft smile adoring their lips. bakugou couldn’t resist, not saying anything but just moving the blanket and tapping the space between his legs.

y/n smiled widely, quickly getting up a little bit and sitting down between bakugou’s legs. y/n leaned back on bakugou while he wrapped his arms around y/n, holding onto their waist and he liked the way it slightly squished under his rough hands. bakugou placed his head into the crook of their neck, snuggling his nose into the side of their neck as y/n giggled, telling bakugou ‘that tickles!’ .

bakugou rested his chin on y/n’s shoulder, getting comfortable as y/n rested their full body weight on bakugou.

“you’re lucky i like you.”

bakugou mumbled, it was nearly silent, but since it was right next to y/n’s ear, they heard all of it. y/n’s smile disappeared, their face being replaced with embarrassment and a burning hot face. y/n turned their head to the right, facing their head away as they were flustered.

"hah? are you embarrassed, pretty?"

bakugou let go of y/n's waist, rubbing at their hips as they placed their hands on bakugou's thighs, avoiding bakugou looking at them.

"do you not like me?"

y/n gasped, whipping their head around and hitting bakugou on the chest as he yelped slightly at the sudden action.

"of course i do. why do you think i hang out with you more than anyone else?"

y/n mumbled the last bit, looking back at the movie like they've been paying attention.

"you're gonna watch the movie now?"

"i've been watching the whole time, what do you mean?"

y/n quickly said, their hands crossing above their chest as bakugou leaned into them, his chest touching their back.

"you want me to stop?"

y/n didn't answer straight away, but eventually,

"no.."

bakugou heard the small mumble, as he hid a chuckle and a smirk by digging his face into their neck, which made y/n smile at the ticklish feeling, which made them laugh quietly, smacking bakugou softly to get him to stop.

#baku a lil ooc but like this idea was in my head and i really wanted to write it #bakugou #katuski bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #mha #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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theaspsaroaceimagines · 3 months

Text

You asked for it. Now you get

EVEN MORE Hazbin Hotel x God of Death! Reader

spoiler for episodes 7 & 8

It turns out you arrived at just the right time, actually.

The Extermination is soon and Charlie and co. need as much help as they can get defending the Hotel.

It's just your luck, you came for a vacation, and you still have to work.

You're a little surprised Carmilla Carmine discovered the angels' weakness.

But only a little. She is an arms dealer, after all.

To be honest, you should have realized it happened sooner when the dead angel's soul showed up in Limbo, but you can't actually tell the naked souls of a demon and an exorcist apart.

They're honestly equally corrupted.

You help train the demons who've chosen to defend the Hotel, it's pretty brutal.

Except for Alastor, he chose to skip training; a mistake you won't let him make again.

When the exorcists attack, you are calm and collected. You have no reason to fear for yourself.

That doesn't mean you don't fight fiercely, though.

It's the first time in thousands of years that anyone's been able to lucidly see you in action.

You're untouchable, dodging and blocking every blow directed at you.

You attack in turn with the Soul Reaper, a weapon that changes form between any kind of scythe or sickle based on what's most useful at a given moment.

For example, it can be an ordinary scythe while blocking, a sickle during a close range attack, and a kusarigama when you want to pull an opponent into close range from further away.

The exorcists don't recognize you, too blinded by their hatred for demon-kind to see you for what you are.

It's hardly even a challenge.

You notice quickly when Adam joins the fight, though you let Alastor fight him for a few seconds before stepping in.

You suppose you can allow him to defend his pride a little bit.

You won't let him die now, though, it's too early. He has yet to serve his purpose.

You try to keep Adam occupied. You really do.

However, you're unable to prevent him from disintegrating Pentious's airship.

You drop the fight the instant it's happened.

Seeing as Pentious sacrificed himself for the others, you figure he's earned a one-way trip to Heaven.

You carry his shell-shocked soul straight to the seraphim.

"Special delivery! Also, friendly reminder, I'm the one who decides where a soul goes and when it goes there. Maybe consult me the next time you have a question of if a transfer is possible, Sera."

You fucking slap her.

When you return to the battle, Lucifer and Charlie are struggling to fight Adam while minimizing collateral damage.

Time to fix your mistake.

You tackle him.

"You again?! Who the fuck are you?!" "You already know me, Adam. You just don't remember."

You knock him off his feet.

"I'm Death. Taking you to Heaven was a mistake. One I won't soon repeat."

You slice his wings clean off.

You would have left it at that, but then Niffty stabs him from behind with a blessed dagger.

Great. Now you have to deal with him in your home.

Whatever, you'll just keep him in stasis until you're tired of him taking up space.

Then you'll deposit him in Hell where he belongs.

#Death Deity! Reader #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x death! reader #hazbin hotel spoilers

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thatfreshi · 8 months

Note

Hi! Can I request a story about Tav having trouble fighting cause Astarion just fed on her and so he gets worried and protective ofc. Maybe they were ambushed at camp or something? Thank you so much for your work! I really like how you write Astarion

Tw - animal attack, lots of gore, themes of death

Recommended Song: Seek and Destroy - SZA

Against better judgment, you let Astarion feed on you almost every night. It's just one of those things, a sacrifice you make, an act of love. After decades of disrespect, scavenging for next to nothing, you thought it'd be nice for him to have something better than animals. While he always insists it isn't necessary, he never passes you up on the offer. A ritual before bed every night, like a lover's embrace, you've come to adore the feeling of his teeth.

This evening in particular, he took quite a bit. You don't mind, considering you go to bed almost right after. Light-headed, woozy, you're wrapped up in his arms.

"Thank you darling."

His embrace almost feels warm when you're this drained. You almost drift off, but he keeps you awake.

"Tav, you need to eat something first."

You groan, absolutely exhausted, trying to keep him in the bedroll.

"Nooo, I'll just do it tomorrow."

He smiles, moving your hair out of your eyes.

"That's not how it works my sweet. Now, let me get up so I can-"

Goblin war drums. The sound of the percussive rhythms bouncing off all the trees, they're not far off, and Astarion knows they're on the way. Karlach starts making her way to every tent, telling your companions to get their asses in gear.

"Tav, Astarion, let's go!"

"Shit."

Astarion whispers to himself. You're still not fully there, in and out of sleep.

"What's going on?"

Double vision, you see two of your vampire lover get up and start rummaging around for his daggers.

"Just- just stay here Tav. It's alright."

You try to rub at your eyes, desperately wanting to figure out what's going on. Before you can ask again, he's gone, and you hear more war drums outside. You quickly realize it's goblins. They must've found where you've been hiding, but your head is still spinning. Trying to get up and grab your blade, you almost fall back to the ground. Steadying yourself for a moment, you try your best to listen to what's going on outside. It sounds deadly, metal, screams. You hear Shadowheart casting left and right.

When you manage to stumble out of the tent, you're tackled by one of their dogs, or whatever wretched things they are. A scream rips out of your throat, trying to hold the thing off. It bites rabidly at your arm, leaving numerous gashes, until it's thrown off of you and stabbed to death, relentlessly.

"Gods damnit, I told you to stay in the tent Tav!"

You're too worried about your arm throbbing in pain to care about the validity of his argument. He's angry, and perhaps both of you aren't entirely certain why. It's your dominant arm, you can barely move it. Astarion goes to wrap your arm, but is quickly overpowered by the numbers again. They must've sent a large party after the lot of you. Halsin and Shadowheart are running out of magic, already drained. It's bad, but it'll end soon. With a couple more fights and a thunderwave from Gale, the rest of the goblins scurry off, knowing they're fighting a losing battle. Astarion doesn't even stop to loot their corpses, running to your side.

"You're a fucking idiot Tav, you know that?"

Gods, he could sound so mean when he wanted to. You know he says those things out of fear, but they still hurt. Despite how angry he is, he starts ripping pieces of cloth from his shirt, wrapping your arm, which is bleeding far too fast. Shadowheart and Halsin come over to supervise, both out of arcana until they get some rest.

"Yes, the two of you standing over my shoulder is quite helpful. Might as well cheer me on while you're at it!"

His movements are ragged, furious, only making your arm hurt more than it does. He's lost though, somewhere in his head, unable to hear the cries of pain as he's wrapping your arm. You're even more lost than before, your blood leaving rapidly.

"Aster, I-"

"Hush."

He then realizes you were going to tell him you were about to pass out, because you almost immediately fall over.

"Damnit!"

He holds you in his arms, your limb still not fully wrapped.

"If the two of you want to be helpful, get me some actual bandages instead of gawking at me!"

Sure, Astarion hates doing things that require hard work, but he knows how. How many times did he have to do something like this to himself, when no one was there to help wrap his wounds? Shadowheart quickly returns with all of the bandage wraps she has.

"We have to clean it or it'll get infected."

"Well, Shadowheart, I don't know how you think you're going to clean it if Tav bleeds to death."

The two healers decide it's best if he handles this himself. While he obsessively wraps your arm, the rest of the camp watches on, knowing he's too possessive to let them help. He doesn't trust them like he trusts you.

And I trusted you to stay put.

There's no way to give you more blood, not in a way that would work for you. For a moment, he simply thinks that he'll feed you some of his blood, and then he remembers. All he can do is hope you retained enough, that he didn't preemptively kill you by feeding on you tonight. Your pulse is still going, but it's slow, and you're paler than usual.

Astarion begins to think to himself, asking why he ever fell in love, why he ever let himself think twice about you. It's easy to play the game when you have nothing to lose. Second thoughts, always, he's always thinking for two people now. It's been his survival, for as long as he can remember, and now you're lodged in his brain.

"Damn you Tav, I can't do this. I can't lose you like this."

He begins to sob as he holds you, still unconscious. This beckons Gale to come over, often a voice of reason for the vampire.

"You've done all you can. Perhaps we should get Tav back inside? Away from the elements?"

Astarion is too distraught to argue, helping Gale carry you back into the tent.

"The second Shadowheart is awake, she'll be back to check on Tav."

"Yeah, if they don't die from blood loss in the middle of the night."

Gale simply sighs, knowing there's no point in fighting with him. He leaves your pale lover to wallow in his misery. Hours pass, you're still clinging on, and Astarion watches over you, panicking every time he can't see your chest rise and fall, constantly checking your pulse. You're cold, your heartbeat dangerously slow, and he keeps wracking his brain about what else he could possibly do. But there's nothing, only fate, only the gods. He sadly chuckles to himself at the thought of even trying to pray, knowing there's no higher power out there, at least one that cares about him.

"W... what are you... laughing at?"

You ask weakly, oblivious to the horrific stress he's been through. Astarion whips around quickly, wondering if perhaps he's imagining your voice. When he sees your eyes fluttering, lost somewhere between dreams and reality, he rushes to your side.

"Oh gods Tav... you- you really scared me there."

He tries to hold back tears, failing miserably. You try to speak again, but groan in pain as the feeling in your arm starts to come back.

"I know, I know it hurts. It's okay my darling, you'll be alright."

He begins fully sobbing, and you have no idea why, without being awake enough to comprehend the situation. Astarion always tries to be strong when you're weak, but watching you teeter on the line between life and death, it was simply too much to bear.

"You can't pull that shit, ever again my love, I'm so serious. I know I'm normally quite serious, but ever more so right now."

Then, a joyful, tiny laugh. Happiness. Happy that you're alive. The memories of the fight slowly start coming back, the beast that ripped up your arm, Astarion yelling.

"Aster...?"

"Yes my dear?"

You start to tear up a little, still a tad delirious.

"I'm sorry."

And then remembers as well, the things he said, the tone he spoke to you in.

"No, no my love I'm sorry. You weren't yourself, I was being entirely unreasonable. I just..."

He almost can't finish his sentence.

"I'm just happy you're okay. That's enough for me."

Your lover slowly and carefully lays down beside you, pulling you into him, being sure not to let your wounded arm drag on the ground. He holds you for a long time, until Shadowheart wakes at dawn, fully rested and ready to fix your wounds. Astarion vows silently that he'll never let it come that close, ever again.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort

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russo-woso · 29 days

Text

How could you? Part 2

If you haven’t read part 1, I’d suggest reading it first. It might make it a bit clearer.

It had been years since you last spoke to Alessia.

You’d seen her since, of course.

I mean, with you playing for Chelsea, playing Arsenal was a big match.

But since the divorce, the matches got even more climatic.

Both teams got even more aggressive, your teammates wanting revenge on Alessia for what they did to you, and Alessia’s teammates getting back at your own.

The pitch turned into a boxing ring when it was blue vs red.

But at the same time, you hated playing Arsenal because you had to play against your ex-wife and your current fiancé.

Your current fiancé, Arsenal’s own, Leah Williamson.

You didn’t seem to leave the house after the divorce, only leaving for things you had to, such as training and matches, but when you were invited to a charity event, there was no way you could say no.

And you were glad you didn’t because you met the love of your life that night.

You were aware that other footballers had been invited but you weren’t aware that Arsenal royalty had been invited.

You remember that night so clearly, you don’t think you’ll ever forget it.

After walking the red carpet, you found your assigned seat, next to Leah.

“Oh no, not you. I’m allergic to Chelsea players. I’m gonna die.” Leah exaggerated, clearly joking.

You rolled your eyes at her before responding, “Oh so dramatic. Why are you here as a footballer? You should be with all the actors, Williamson.”

“Yeah and you should be at church praying that we don’t batter you in two weeks.”

“Oh, really? I don’t think it’s me that should be praying.” You said back, a genuine smile resting on your face.

“You look good in red. You should switch to the right side of London.” Leah pointed out, changing the subject. You were wearing a red dress whereas Leah was wearing a suit that hugged her figure.

“Thank you, but I’m a blue through and through and anyway, I wouldn’t go to arsenal. Not when she still plays there. But you look good too.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Alessia.” Leah apologised, her eyes softened as she rested a hand on your back.

“You don’t have to say sorry. You have a past and a future for a reason. She’s my past, I’m just looking for a future now.” You explained to Leah

“Although you’re a blue, You deserve someone who can make you happy.”

“Hmm, have someone in mind?”

“Maybe.” Leah sent a smirk over to you and a blush took over your cheeks.

The night carried on, flirtatious comments and touches from both of you.

It was safe to say that you didn’t end up in your own bed that night.

From that night onwards, Alessia was your past and Leah was your future.

And when you saw Leah more and more, you slowly forgot about Alessia.

Memories you made with Alessia got replaced with memories made with Leah.

The best memory happened two years after the charity event.

Leah took you to Greece on holiday and on the final night, she got down on one knee and made you hers.

————————

“My girls going to England camp today.” Leah mumbled into your temple before pressing a kiss there.

Your eyes flutters open and you smiled at the sight of Leah cuddling you.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the international friendliest coming up.

You had worked so hard over the past couple of months that you knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Leah was by your side as soon as your phone rang.

You got off the phone from Sarina and Leah tackled you into a hug, placing kisses all over your face.

To say she was proud was an understatement.

“I’m nervous about it, Le.” You admitted to her, tears welling in your eyes.

“Why you nervous, pretty girl?” Leah looked at you, concern written on her face. She stroked loose hair out of your face and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m scared I won’t be good enough. And seeing less again. I’ll be playing with her this time.” You admitted and Leah cradled you in her arms.

“My girl, you have nothing to worry about. You are such a good player. You’ve scored 9 goals for the c word this season and we’re only half way through the season. And you don’t have to worry about Alessia. You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Time to get up?” Leah asked and you replied by cuddling into her chest even more. “I’m taking that as a no.”

————————

As captain, Leah had an advantage when it came to rooming people together.

Normally, couples weren’t allowed to room with each other, but Leah made sure that you and her were together.

You and Leah unpacked your things before heading down to the lobby, hand in hand.

“Here’s the love birds. How have you been Y/N? How’s Leah been treating you?” Kiera asked, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m great, thanks, kie. Leah’s been incredible, like always. How are you? How’s the Spanish weather been treating you?”

“It’s amazing. You can move there, I can put in a good word for you.” Lucy offered, joining the conversation, but Leah was quick to refuse it for you.

“As much as I hate seeing her play in blue, she’s not moving away from me. She’s staying in London.”

“I’ll never move away Le. I’ll never leave.” You giggled at her protectiveness.

“I’ll never leave either.”

You pressed a kiss to her lips. When you broke apart, you turned to face Kiera and Lucy but when their eyes widened, you followed their gaze and saw her standing there.

“Alessia, hi.” You said, awkwardly, panicking a bit but as soon as you felt Leah’s hands squeezing yours, you calmed down.

“Hi. Do you mind if I quickly talk to you? I know you’ve got lots of introductions to do and probably a whole lot of media. And the fact that you probably don’t want to talk to—” Alessia’s voice got quieter the more she rambled on which made a small smile appear on your face. She hadn’t changed at all.

“Less, of course I’ll talk to you.” You said and turned to face Leah, placing a kiss to her cheek. “I won’t be long, baby.”

You followed Alessia round the corner just so you were somewhere a bit more private.

“It’s good to see you, you look good.” Alessia broke the silence that had overtaken you Both.

“Thanks. I am good. How are you?”

“I’m also good. I just…I didn’t want this camp to be awkward between us. I never got the chance to formally apologise. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I know that you’ll probably never forgive me, but I just want to know that you don’t hate me.” Alessia explained her reasons for wanting to talk to you. You could tell she was panicking so you rested a hand on back, gently rubbing it to calm her down.

“Less, I’ll forgive you. I forgave you the day I met Leah. But it doesn’t mean I’ll never forget it. I think me and you, we weren’t meant to be for each other. We got married young. We didn’t have the chance to explore anything. I’ll never forget you and me. You were my first everything so you’ll always have a place in my heart. I could never hate you Alessia. Not even a bit.” You told her, tears starting to stream down her face. “Hey, no crying. It’s all in the past. Come on, say it with me.”

“It’s all in the past.” Alessia and you said together as she let out a laugh and wiped her tears away.

“There we go. Now, no awkwardness between us, okay? You’re my friend, less. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Less smiles and you brought her in for a hug.

“My god, Leah’s scary when she stares into your soul.” Alessia announced as she looked past you and saw Leah starting at the encounter.

You turned around and sent Leah a look, her face immediately softening and a smile was sent your way.

“You broke Leah, you know. Everyone says it. One day she was this woman who always frowned. It’s like she had a curse on her, and then she comes into training and she all smiles. You broke the curse.” Alessia said, and you smiled at Leah who was catching up with Georgia.

“She makes me so happy.” You admitted and Alessia smiled at you.

“I’m glad.”

“How’s you and Cooney-Cross?”

“We’re good. I’m planning on proposing to her next month.” Alessia revealed and you hugged her once more.

“That’s amazing, less. See, this is why we weren’t meant for each other. We both had other people out there for us. Leah’s my happy ever after, and Kyra’s yours. I never thought these words would leave my mouth, but I’m happy for you lessi. I wish you, and Cooney-Cross all the best.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I wish you and Leah all the best too. You deserve someone who treats you with respect and gives you all the happiness in the world. I’m just sorry I didn’t.” Alessia apologised again and you nodded your head, accepting the apology.

“Right, enough apologies. Let’s start fresh. Hi, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You put your hand out and Alessia giggled before shaking it.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Alessia.”

“Nice to meet you, Alessia.”

————————

“How did the conversation with less go?” Leah asked as you laid your head on her chest.

It had been such a hectic afternoon full of introductions, that you didn’t get to catch Leah up on the conversation.

“It’s went perfect. Better than perfect. She apologised, about a million times, I told her that I’d forgiven her. I mean, I did as soon as I saw you at that event. We got talking about you and Kyra. We both agreed that you’re our futures. And we introduced ourselves all over again, as if we’d never met each other before. Alessia will always be my past, you will always be my present and my future.” You explained to Leah and she pressed a kiss to your head.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, le.”

————————

“…You are my present and my future, Leah. I love you so much.” You finished, tears flowing down your cheeks as you stared into Leah’s eyes.

“I may now present you wives. You may kiss the bride.”

Leah leaned in and connected your lips.

The memories built up over the years playing in your head.

When you first met Leah, your first date, your first kiss, when you were able to call Leah’s house yours, when she was down on one knee, and now, when you broke apart from the kiss and Leah knelt down and kissed your stomach.

All your family and friends cheered.

It was your first time announcing the pregnancy.

You wanted to wait until you were 12 weeks, and it just so happened that it fell on your wedding day.

Leah stood back up, a massive smile on her face, and connected your lips once again.

“My future.” You whispered against Leah’s lips, a hand on your small bump, and an identical smile taking over your face.

“I love you, my girl, and my prince or princess.”

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #alessia russo #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

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azsazz · 2 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 22)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 4,106

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

For the third time tonight you catch yourself bobbing your head and mouthing along to the words of the song blaring through the walls instead of reading the words in the art history book that you’re staring at.

Cursing, you toss your pencil into the crease of the textbook and lie your head in your hands. You’ve read the same page three times over but you haven’t absorbed one ounce of information. It’s something about the art in ancient Rome and the different ways God figures are portrayed.

Your phone buzzes from the spot next to you and you can’t help but grin. You’d declined an invite to another one of Cassian’s infamous parties because you have a test on Monday and you can’t afford to fail. You barely passed the first one by the skin of your teeth and you’ll be damned if you don’t pass this class with less than a B. Azriel had even pestered you about it for a bit, but ultimately left you to focus on your schoolwork, or, as much as half of your attention on the page you could manage.

A: I can’t believe you’re studying right now. I can’t even focus on my drawing. How are you doing it?

Y: You’ve trained me in the art of studying with loud backgrounds, don’t you remember? You quickly follow that text up with another. Y: I should’ve joined in on the fun instead. I’m going to fail art history, anyway. I could really use a shot right now.

Azriel’s response pings your phone faster than Cassian saying something sexual. A: How about something else that might cheer you up? ;)

A puff of laughter chokes out. Checking the time in the corner of your screen your smile falls and you want to groan. You’ve only been attempting to study for forty five minutes.

Y: As mood improving that might be, I really need to study. This sucks.

To garner some extra sympathy, you tack on a frowning emoji at the end.

A: It’s not that hard, princess.

It’s a bold move to reply: Y: Your cock? Or art history? But you hit send anyway.

A: Both, but the pair can be remedied.

Y: Come over.

There’s a sudden slamming of a bedroom door through the wall that startles you, then forces you into a fit of giggles, realizing how eager Azriel had been to escape his apartment and see you.

The thought sends butterflies off in your stomach and your heart kicks giddily in response. You’re just as excited as he is, shoving your chair back from your desk and bounding towards the door.

Soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room washes the apartment in a warmth that feels like you’re being cuddled. The rest of the apartment is dark, empty. Feyre had popped her head into your room earlier, asking if you wanted to go to the party next door but at that point in the night you were still determined in your studying, waving her on without you.

There’s a soft knock on the door and when you tug it open Azriel is barging inside, all but tackling you on his way inside. His hands find your hips like a magnet and you’re swept up in the heat of his body as it collides with yours as he sweeps you further into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Hurry,” he whispers, and his long strides are no match for your shorter legs. You feel like you’re tripping, tangled up in him, but he holds you steady, firm, like a rock you’ve been missing from your life.

It’s quite nice.

Azriel reaches behind himself to lock your door before he’s turning back to you and planting a kiss to your forehead. “Before Tarquin sees me.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. He’s snug in his usual garb, a black t-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin. His jeans sit low on his hips, the waistband of his briefs calling your name. The fact that you know what’s beneath these clothes is as intoxicating as his blissful scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Who’s Tarquin?”

“Old friend,” Azriel huffs. “He was just arriving at the party. If he saw me he would’ve wanted me to tap the keg with him and I’d much rather be here, tapping you, princess.”

You shove playfully at his chest but Azriel catches your wrists and pulls you back into him for a popper kiss. You fall into it, body relaxing and even pressing yourself further into him. His hands slide around your waist and over the curve of your ass where he grabs a handful, sighing contently against your lips.

He’s been the perfect gentleman since the chat you shared at Rita’s, and has even offered to walk you to and from your classes, though you suspect that has more to do with Lucien than not wanting you walking alone, even though you share most of your classes with Feyre.

“Hi,” you whisper when he pulls away only to rest his forehead against yours. His golden eyes bore into yours and you can see the happiness swimming there.

You can also feel it against your stomach.

“Hey,” he answers just as softly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” you remind him, but your chest flutters a little because you missed him too. You’d allowed Azriel to walk you home after your last class of the day but had drawn the line at the door that he pressed you up against, using that wicked mouth of his to try and convince you to let him inside. After a thorough minute of persuasion, he’d backed off, leaving you with a cheeky wink and both your mind and your cunt screaming at you to call him back.

“Yeah but dealing with Cassian feels like a lifetime has gone by sometimes,” he jokes, following you eagerly as you lead him through your apartment towards your room. It hits you then that he hasn’t properly been inside of your apartment before, only having seen it when he walked in on accident, but there will be time for a tour later, right now you want him in your room. Preferably on your bed.

“What was he doing this time?” you squeal when he pinches your ass and you glare at him over your shoulder.

“Sorry, princess, I couldn’t resist,” Azriel grins and you can’t help but smile with him. When the corners of his mouth pull high there’s a crinkle around his glowing golden eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. He looks younger, sweeter with that smile on his face. Azriel is a handsome man. “He was trying to get me to join in on the party. Think he was trying to rally some girls to play flip cup or something.”

Azriel frowns when he steps into your room, not because he notices that the head of your bed nearly perfectly aligns with where his is pushed up against the wall you share, but because of the loud music humming through said wall. He knows it must be even louder when he’s the one blasting tunes at all hours of the night, but he hadn’t realized just how thin the walls were.

“Sounds a lot more entertaining than art history,” you grumble a little, slumping back into your chair at your desk. Your body warms as Azriel comes to stand behind you, planting a hand on the surface and resting his chin on your head as he leans over to look at your textbook.

“Ancient Rome,” he comments, and you can feel the delicious rumble of his full-toned voice. It makes you shiver in your seat, and you wonder if he notices you tensing, trying to stifle your reaction to his single word. “It’s not that hard, princess.”

“Of course you would be good at it,” you groan, slumping back in your seat. It causes Azriel to slip away, planting himself firmly on the edge of your desk. “You’re good at everything.” His golden eyes twinkle as he preens. You narrow your eyes at his smirk. “Oh, shut up.”

“Didn’t even say anything, princess,” he muses. “If I help you out with art history, will you be good for me, too?”

You can’t help the rush of arousal spilling into your veins like adrenaline. The way he’s staring down at you through lowered lids, smirk turned into a face more serious, it’s a taunt as much as it is an offer.

“You wish,” you murmur back. There’s no heat to your response because it’s all collected between your thighs that you’re pressing firmly together.

“I do,” Azriel responds, gaze fiery.

And, well, those catacombs will still be there tomorrow.

You allow Azriel to pull you up from your chair and into his chest. His hands find your hips while you wrap yours around his neck, amiring one another. It’s a soft moment backed by the buzzing bass of Cassian’s party but you couldn’t be happier right now, with Azriel holding you in his arms.

You trail your fingers down his chest and he watches you, bright eyes never leaving yours as you swiftly slide them under the hem of his shirt. You can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you slide across his abdomen, reveling in the smooth skin of his chest, fingers dancing over the ridges of muscle.

His grip tightens on your hips but you urge him with a soft tug to take the shirt off. Reluctantly, Azriel removes his hands from you only long enough to rip the shirt over his shoulders and then they’re back, pulling you closer than before.

You trace the line of his jaw and he allows you to drink in your fill of him because you’re looking at him like you’ve just found your inspiration for your next project, and he likes that raw look in your eyes, likes being the one you’re solely focused on.

Moving downwards, you follow the line of his collarbones, fingering at the whorling ink there, like shadows of the night. They expand up across his broad shoulders and Azriel shivers when you lean in and flick your tongue against them, as if you can somehow taste their night-chilled forms.

Azriel’s breath hitches in his throat as you take your time inspecting each and every single one of his tattoos. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re touching him makes him harder than a rock, and his cock strains painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He won’t move until you’re done, though, he won’t dare to break your concentration.

Wrapped up in the black of his shadows are two cupids, bows fully loaded and ready to launch their arrows. On his arm, the tattoo of the female warrior you’d noticed at lunch when you were secretly admiring it, trying to figure out who it was.

“Who is this?” you ask softly, and his answer is just as quiet, not wanting to shatter the trance you both seem to be stuck in.

“Nemesis. The goddess of vengeance,” Azriel explains, and your eyes are soft with grief when they flick upwards to meet his. He’s smiling softly at you though, and tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. He nods his head towards his other arm, showing you the other scrawled across that bicep. “This is Eleos, goddess of forgiveness.”

You can’t help the urge to surge forward and kiss him. His tattoos serve as reminders of a life he once lived, one filled with rage and hurt, the yearning to harm his step-brothers a forceful one. As time went on and his hands healed, he’d gotten that tattoo of Eleos, not because he was forgiving any of his family for how he’d been treated, but a year later when he was learning how to forgive himself for the time spent hating what had been done to his hands.

And with those hands, Azriel lifts you into his arms. He’s kissing you just as passionately as you’re kissing him because without even an explanation, you seem to understand the artwork poked into his skin.

He places you on the bed and follows you up onto it but you’re not done with your exploration yet. With little coaxing, you find yourself straddling Azriel, pulling away from a dizzying kiss and resuming your pandering of his body.

An image of a winged man falling from the sky on the side of his ribcage, and two wings defining the hard muscle leading to the tent in his pants that makes your mouth water. These wings are feathered, unlike the membranous bat-like ones painted large across his back. Each and everyone is more captivating than the last, and as your fingers hover around the waistband of his pants, you lean forward and lick a long stripe over those wings.

“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hips jolting at the movement. His hands smooth your hair from your face where it’s falling with the angle and all of a sudden you want to feel those hands fisting around your hair, guiding your head while your mouth is full of his cock. “Princess,” Azriel warns, but the sound is choked, “I thought you were studying.”

“I am,” you answer, unbuttoning his pants. Azriel’s not doing a lot to help you focus on that work though, and you won’t be able to focus until you’ve tasted him, felt him like the piece of artwork he is. “I’m cashing in on my reward early.”

He hums, helping you rid him of his pants and briefs. His cock sticks out and it’s one of the best looking cocks you’ve seen in your life. It’s pink and leaking at the tip, ready for you to wrap your lips around.

“You don’t have to—” Azriel’s words dispel into a rough moan when you take him into your hand and lick his slit. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, just as heady and delightful as the rest of him is. You know that you don’t have to, but with a tug of your hand up his shaft while you suck the head of his cock into your mouth his fingers tighten in your hair and you want this, you really really want this.

Swirling your tongue teasingly around the head of his cock, you jerk and twist the length of him. On reflex, Azriel tries to shove you further down on his cock and you allow it, moaning around his length when he hits the back of your throat.

You take him as far as you can, reveling in the noises he makes in response to your movements. When you suction your cheeks in, lathing your tongue wet and wild across his silky cock, when you use your grip on his base to jerk him off when you need to come up from air. You keep the crown of his cock in your mouth because he seems to love the warmth of your breath as you pant around him.

“Princess,” he hisses when you twist your hand, “Fuck, baby, need you to stop or I’m gonna cum.”

Gods, do you want that. Before you can eagerly continue your ministrations, Azriel is easing you away from his cock, his hands tearing at your clothing. You’re distracted by the way his hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, and you’re trying to relieve yourself of your clothing so you can feel more of those hands on your bare skin.

“Come here, gorgeous,” Azriel pants, pressing your naked body flush against his. You slant your mouth over his as you grind against him, your clit throbbing with need.

“Condom,” you breathe between kisses. His hands smooth from your hips up your back and down again, guiding your hips to drag your cunt against his shaft.

“Pocket,” Azriel answers, unable to tear his mouth from yours. You strain over the side of the bed but are able to retrieve the condom with ease. You don’t even take the time to scoff at him for stuffing there out of convenience before he came over, because he clearly knew where the night was going to end up.

You tear off the corner of the foil and roll it down his hot cock. Azriel’s golden eyes are hot on your body as he pulls you closer to him for another kiss. He’s addicted to your taste on his lips, the feeling of your body pressed against his.

And you’re addicted to him just as much. The way he caresses every inch of your skin like you’re the finest piece of art he’s finally able to touch. The words that roll so effortlessly off of that wicked tongue of his, good for more than taunting you.

“When is ‘yet?’” you ask, kissing across his chest.

Azriel blinks, looking down at you with the cutest furrow of his dark brows. “What?”

You huff laugh at his confusion but are unable to keep your wet pussy from sliding across his heavy cock. The movement causes the both of you to moan and you melt a little against the warmth of his chest.

“You told Rita that I’m not your girlfriend yet,” you explain, finding the strength to continue your path down his body. You lap over one of his nipples and enjoy the way Azriel’s muscles flex. “So, when is ‘yet?’”

Azriel’s fingers find your chin, stopping you from biting between his pectorals like you want. He looks just as devastated by that thought as you are. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? We haven’t even had our first date yet,” he teases and you fail to bite back your grin.

Your first date is tomorrow, and you have no idea what he has planned. You’re pretty sure that there’s no way that he’s going to be able to beat your first kiss at the museum, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Azriel, it’s that he’s full of surprises.

“We shared a milkshake,” you pout, squirming as he pokes at your sides. You enjoy the way that his chest shakes with laughter.

“And that counts as a date?” he questions, quirking a brow. You settle against him, even though your cunt is screaming at you to shift a little lower and sit on his cock. Azriel strokes soothing lines up your body, enjoying the feel of your smooth skin beneath his marred fingertips.

You shrug, “If you want it to.”

He puffs out a laugh. “You’re low maintenance.”

“For now,” you grin, poking his nose. “But that wasn’t an answer, Azriel.”

He can’t help himself, craning forward to kiss you. You draw him in like a magnet, and he’s never felt this raw need to be around someone before. When he first met you, he’d thought it a coincidence, how you kept running into each other, how he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you.

Now, he knows it’s much more than that.

“And is this answer imperative to how the rest of the night goes?” He asks, rubbing his cock in a long stroke across your wet cunt.

You gasp, bucking back against him, but you want your answer, first.

“I mean, I can go next door and—”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence, princess,” Azriel growls, grabbing your hips to roll you over. You squeak at the swift movement and suddenly you’re pressed into the mattress with Azriel’s looming form towering over you. His gold eyes are sharp with possessiveness. It makes you tingle. “You’re all fucking mine.”

He follows his words by nestling the head of his cock between your folds. You squirm, trying to get him to press further into you but Azriel holds steady, even through your teasing.

“If I’ll have you, you mean,” your chest heaves with anticipation, your fingernails already digging into his skin. You want him inside of you right fucking now, and you’re regetting taunting him already. “Which means you’d have to ask me, though. See if I even want you back.”

“Oh, but I know you do, princess,” Azriel’s voice takes on the low edge that makes you want to scream. His cock inches further into your needy cunt and he nips the shell of your ear. “I know you want this all to yourself.”

Your keen betrays your words. “S’not that special,” you slur blissfully. You already feel so full with the head of his cock teasing that bundle of nerves that had your stomach coiling already.

The feeling of your nails ripping at his skin tells Azriel differently.

He hums like he believes you, knuckles brushing torturously down the center of your body to play with your throbbing clit. His chest constricts with the way that your cunt strangles his cock and he takes a deep breath so he doesn’t come only from this; your stubbornness and the way that you’re wriggling on his cock.

“How about I show you how special my cock is, and then I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He proposes.

“How about you ask me to be your girlfriend and then you show me how not special your cock is,” you counter, but you’ll do just about anything to have him pressing in all of the way.

“Fine,” Azriel relents. “But if I make you orgasm more than three times, you can’t call my cock ‘not special’ ever again. You have to refer to it as the most special cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on. Oh, and that it’s pretty too.” And fuck, it really is pretty like this, tucked into your tight heat.

“Kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” you ask, whining as he pulls completely out of you to rub himself down the length of your cunt. That glowing look in his eyes makes you glare, but it’s shortlisted when he nudges himself back inside of you again.

“More than a mouthful, princess, as you well know,” Azriel smirks, and you pinch his side. It does little to deter him, though. “You want it? You’re going to have to agree to my terms.”

“Did you want a blood oath or…” he threatens to remove his cock again and you scramble, clawing at his hips to keep him inside of you. “Fine! Fine.”

Azriel leans down and the way that his cock plunges a centimeter further into your aching cunt has you gasping, moaning against his mouth. You want to bite that smirk right off of his lips but he tastes too good, and his tongue is swirling against yours, making you forget. “Was going to ask you to be my girlfriend anyway, princess, even if you hadn’t agreed.”

You shift your hips and it works to guide him a little further inside but it’s not enough. You feel hot, like you’re going to explode if he doesn’t start moving soon. You need to feel his entire length stretching you out, shoving the air from your lungs and taking you like he’s no longer in control of his body.

“Well, bully for you, Azriel.” You dig your nails into the meat of his back. “I’ll take some of the most special cock I’ve ever had the pleasure of cumming on,” you grit. “Though that is yet to be determined.”

Your taunt does nothing to irk him into moving, though. Instead, he’s smirking down at you again. “You forgot pretty, princess. It’s pretty too, isn’t it?”

“Come on then, pretty,” you groan, on the verge of screaming.

“I don’t think so, I haven’t held up my part of the bargain yet.” The words are followed by him pressing himself the rest of the way inside of you, enjoying the way the tension leaves your body and has you melting for him. You want him to start moving, need him to start moving, but Azriel’s gone all serious all of a sudden, peppering you with kisses until you can focus on him once more. “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you cry out, feeling so full your heart could burst. You drag Azriel in for a kiss that’s hot and desperate and a little sloppy. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, Az. Now, please move, baby, I need your cock.”

His gaze goes molten at the pet name the way you’re begging for him. He pulls his hips back and presses them forward again, finally giving you the friction you’ve both been desperately craving.

“Of course, princess. Let’s give you what you need.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

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alastor-simp · 2 months

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Hugging Them Out of Nowhere - Lucifer Morningstar, Cherri Bomb, Vox and Valentino

Here is the second part of the hugging headcanon with the other hazbin characters. I am going to try to make Valentino be a bit more approachable in this story since I know he is on this fandoms hit list.Will contain spoilers from some episodes. Enjoy!

Lucifer Morningstar🐥

🐥"OH! Ummm.....something wrong? Did you want to play with one of my rubber ducks?” Lucifer would have no idea what is going on. He will be stood like a statue, while holding one of his signature ducks. Despite being the king of hell, this man is an awkward softie.

🐥Lucifer was officially staying at the hotel now after its renovation after the fight with Adam. It was nice that he was finally making an effort with Charlie’s dreams and acting like a father.

🐥However, this poor man suffered from depression, due to being stressed being the king of hell and also thinking about his wife leaving. Man couldn’t catch a break.

🐥His bedroom is where he would stay when he was like that, crafting another duck figurine at his desk. He hadn’t noticed you coming into his room to see how he was. The minute he felt arms wrap around him is when he realized your presence.

🐥 “Ummmmmmmm….hi there?” Lucifer just remained in the position he was in, staring at you, trying to figure out what was happening. Soon, you had let him go, wearing an apologetic smile.

🐥 “I’m sorry, your highness.” Lucifer jumped when he heard that and waved his hands. “OH! Just call me Lucifer or Luci! Don’t need to be formal with me!” You smiled at him and nodded your head. The both of you stared at each other for a bit before he broke the silence and asked why the sudden hug.

🐥Feeling shy, you rubbed the back of your neck, “Well, I noticed you seemed more melancholic than usual today. Usually when I am sad, a hug always makes me feel better so I thought maybe that would help you.” Red pupils continued to stare at you making you feel nervous, wondering if you had upset him

🐥Your body was met with a strong impact, as Lucifer tackled you in a hug, squeezing you tightly to the point it was hard to breathe. His face was in the crook of your neck, as he continued to squeeze. “C-can’t br-eath.” Gasping out an answer, you felt Lucifer let you go, by still placed his hands on your shoulder.

🐥 “S-sorry! Sorry! I forget my own strength sometimes haha! You okay? No broken bones?” He kept moving his head to peer at you, making sure you were alright. His actions caused you to laugh, surprising him. “You’re such a dad.” Lucifer then smiled at that, placing a hand on his chest, “Of course I am! I am hells number one daddy!” That sentence caused you to cackle, confusing Lucifer even more. “Hahahaha! Don’t ever say that again!” Lucifer tilted his head at you: “Wait, what did I say?”

🐥His clueless side to him was quite cute at times. You managed to calm down. “Lucifer, if you ever need someone to talk to or have another one of your depressed episodes, come find me okay. I’ll be there to listen and also provide comforting hugs." He wore a shocked expression, before he broke into a kind smile, patting your head. "Thank you."

🐥The relationship the both of you had improved a lot. He was more open with you and would discuss his problems. He was kind enough to bring you to his workshop, showing you how to make his prized ducklings. You received a nice surprise when you went into your room and saw a duck figurine that resembled you, with a red rose lying next to it.

Cherri Bomb🍒

🍒"Woah! Hey bit✪✪!! Why the sudden tackle? You looking to throw down?" Cherri is very hyperactive and fun-loving, you almost never see her depressed about anything. She is either throwing bombs during turf wars or partying at the club with Angel Dust. She wasn't close with everyone at the hotel except Angel, but she was friendly as long as you didn't do something to piss her off.

🍒However, she does have a sensitive side to herself, but she puts up a tough guard to hide it. The three of you, yourself, Cherri and Angel were partying at a popular sex club, chugging down shot after shot. It took you a while to notice, since you were slightly buzzed, that Cherri had a more sad expression on her face then usual. You were about to question what was wrong, but she got up quickly from the bar, saying she was going out for a quick smoke.

🍒Sensing something else was going, on you let Angel know that you would be right back, before following after Cherri. Looking everywhere, you were able to find her on the patio deck of the club, smoking a cigarette while leaning on the metal bar. She didn't noticed you until she heard the sound of the door sliding and saw you walking towards her.

🍒 "Oh! Hey hoe! Whatcha doing out here? Craving a smoke too?" She was smiling wide at you, but you can tell that it was forced. Walking closer to her, you threw her arms around her, causing her one eye to stare at you in shock. ""Woah mate! Whats wrong with ya?" She patted one of your arms, wondering what was going on. "Cherri, drop the act already. I saw that look on your face in the club. There is obviously something going on. So come on, spill it."

🍒 Cherri's eye just widen further and the smile on her face dropped. She turned her head down, not saying a word to you as you kept holding her. "AGH! I'm just pissed with myself at the moment! I'm trying so hard to obtain the level of overlord, but it's not working. I need that status, so I can help Angie to be rid of that moth fu✪✪face!!" Cherri yelled out, as she threw the cigarette from her hand, while punching the metal bar with her fist. You continued to listen to her, and hugged her tighter.

🍒You both stayed like that for a bit, before you spoke: "You will do it Cherri Bomb! I believe in you and so does Angel Dust. Its gonna be hard in the beginning, but you can do it. I want the same for Angel too and I'll try to help in anyway I can." After that little speech you gave, you felt Cherri shaking with laughter. "AHAHAHA! Sorry mate, but you fighting in turf wars? I'm sorry, but your baby face is way to sweet to be considered a threat!" Her words cause you to pout. "Still, thanks mate for coming out here and making me feel better." She moved her body, positioning herself so she could hug you back.

🍒The both of you let go after that, just in time for Angel Dust to come, wondering where the both of you went. "Cherri? Toots? What's going on? Y'all been gone for a while, I thought you bailed on me!" The both of you laughed and walked closer to Angel. "Nothing Angel. Just having some girl talk." You didn't want to tell Angel what had happened before since you probably expected Cherri didn't want to worry him. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, and pulled you closer to them. Cherri smiled down at you before looking back at Angel. "Sorry Angie, got distracted. Lets get back to the party! I owe you a drink Y/N!" Cherri looked down at you when she said that before pulling you to the bar, with Angel following behind, wearing a smirk.

🍒Cherri exchanged numbers with you after that. She chatted with both you and Angel on the regular. Her messages were very wild and enthusiastic, either sending a picture of herself in a fight or just making funny inappropriate jokes. She had invited you to her crib to hang out at one point. You should consider yourself lucky, cause she only invites the people she cares about to her place, so the fact that she did that means she considers you a very close friend. She has offered to help train you too, since she noticed your lack of skill in combat, so she wanted to help prepare you. She knew that it would help you in the long run and also allow you to tag team together in a turf war.

Vox📺

📺Hugging Vox was not as simple as you think. He had a reputation to uphold as one of the three Vee's. Also he didn't like being touched.

📺He was an alright guy despite his massive ego. You had been in his business for a while, so you knew quickly how he function and acted in certain situations. His mood had been very sour lately, since he had just realized his arch enemy, the radio demon was back after disappearing for seven years. His great plan was to call Alastor out during one of his video podcasts, only to be mocked down by Alastor, causing him to short circuit and cause all the power to be cut off.

📺Vox remained in his office after that, fuming. His screen was flickering every once in a while, as blue sparks kept popping up around him. You hesitated a bit, as you stood at the door to his office, contemplating if you should go in a calm him down or just let him cool off on his own. Finally reaching a decision, you walked in.

📺He was sitting in his large red chair, in front of his multiple screens. The back of the chair was facing you, as you walked closer to wear he was. Having reached closer to him, you look at him, seeing if he was okay. He was leaned back against the chair, hands covering his screen. It was mumbling something to himself, which was hard to make out, but you heard some words like "alastor" and "a✪✪hole."

📺Clearing your throat, you allowed your presence to be know to him. Vox jumped a bit, before removing one of hands to look at you. He was clearly irritated, given the scowl on his face. "The hell you doing in here? I made in clear I was not to be disturbed." You bounced back a bit at his tone, but you stood strong. "I apologize, sir. I had come to see if you were alright, since you have been in here for a few hours." Vox continued to glare at you before putting his hand back to cover his face. "Argh! That old fashion radio di✪✪head still has me pissed off!" You listen to him rant, and wanted to at least find a way to ease his emotions. "Will you allow me to help calm you down?"

📺Vox removed his hands from his face, his screen eyebrows arched up a bit. He gave a sigh and just waved his hand in the air, saying to do whatever. Taking a deep breath, you walked closer to Vox, leaning down to wrap your arms around him. Vox just froze, hands raised up in shock. He wasn't expecting something like this. After a few seconds, you let him go and stood back up, rubbing your neck. "Sorry! I- That always use to make me feel better whenever I am upset about something, so I though that would help you." You continued to look down away from Vox, afraid that you overstepped.

📺You slowly look back at him, hoping he wasn't more enraged. He surprisingly wasn't, but was more stumped then anything. Soon his screen face lit up with his blue-teethed smile. "Well that was a surprise! Didn't expect you to do that?" He continued to smirk at you, which made you twiddle your fingers. "Sorry." Vox just gave a huff, turning his face away. "Well I didn't hate it." That comment surprised you. You weren't able to see his face,, but his screen looked a tad pinkish, but it was hard to make out. Letting out a cough, he turned back and stretched. "Well time to get back and do some overlord work. You can head back and do whatever." Smiling, you bowed your head a bit, "Very well, sir." You turned around, beginning to walk back to the sliding doors. "Vox." You stopped and turned back, "I'm sorry?" Vox spun his chair, around facing you, "You can call me Vox." His face was hard to read, since you never seen him with that kind of expression before. He slowly turned back around, back of the chair facing you now.

📺He was a bit different after that whole interaction. Yes, he was still the egotistical Vox, but he acted a bit softer when he was with you behind closed doors. He would ask how your day was and how the new Voxtech sales were coming along. He tried to have you around more, whenever he was doing his podcasts or having a meeting with the other Vees. You noticed his eyes staring at you, with a sort of soft look, but he would quickly turn around like nothing was happening.

Valentino🦋

🦋It wasn't easy to offer Valentino a hug. He was one of the the three V's, the overlords that dominated most of Pentagram city. Valentino was a busy man, since he controlled a lot of the lustful side of the city, so he was either surrounded by hot demons or working as the director for his porn videos.

🦋 However, he was prone to hissy fits, that would result in him either breaking multiple things in his office or injure one of Velvette's models. You weren't sure what caused this tantrum, but you could hear Valentino's squeaks of rage from his office.

🦋After a couple minutes, it began to quiet down, giving you a sign that it was safe to enter his office now. Opening the door to his office, you saw the mayhem that was now his office space. Papers had scattered the floor, some clothes were throw on the ground and broken pieces of glass were scattered everywhere on the floor. In the middle of the room was a giant red smoke cloud, likely containing the moth himself. You could see him a bit through the smoke, wearing a scowl, but his eyes were closed.

🦋You didn't say a word, and just started to clean up the mess. Valentino peeked his eye out to look at you, and closed it again. After fixing his clothes and throwing away the shards of glass, you picked up the papers, assembling them in a stack and walk over to his desk. Placing them down, you looked up at the moth man in front of you. He was still wearing a scowl, while muttering little curses under his breath. "Umm..Mr. Valentino?", calling out his name, you approached a bit closer, to where you were standing near his chair. Valentino opened his eyes, flashing crimson at you. "What is it?" his tone was still agitated, and his eyes were glaring at you.

🦋You fiddled with your fingers for a bit, then you slowly got closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He was very tall, but since he was sitting down, it was easier for you to place your arms around his back, putting you head next to his neck Valentino let out a little squeak in shock, his multiple arms jumping up, which caused the pipe in one of his hands to drop to the ground. "Oh~ You looking to play gatita?" You could tell he was smirking at what you were doing. You shook your head, "I'm not doing this to have sex with you. I'm giving you a hug to cheer you up." Valentino was quiet after you said that. You were about to let go, thinking you made him more upset, but you felt his arms pull you closer, lifting you up to have you sit on his lap. His head bent down as well, leaning closer to your neck.

🦋None of you had said a word, as you continued to hug each other. You felt a pair of lips kiss your neck, giving you goosebumps. Slowly Valentino removed his head from your neck. His two hands moved to push you back, before placing the both of them on your cheeks. He was wearing a very tender expression, it was quite a surprise to see since you only saw him with a smirk or glare. "Gracias hermosa." Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to blush.

🦋His attitude with you change entirely after that. He was still a horny bastard, but he cooled it down for you. He wanted you with him at all times, either next to you or sitting on his lap. Vox took a notice to how different Valentino was being, but he didn't question it, since it saved him time and prevented him from having to come and calm Valentino down himself. Valentino began to send you little gifts as well, you expected something erotic like vibrators, but surprisingly, you got roses and beautiful jewelry. He started addressing you by your name more, or he would called you "hermosa" like he did when he kissed your forehead. Welp, looks like you have a giant moth demon attracted to you now.

~END~

(Sorry no Velvette in this headcanon. It is hard for me to write her character. Maybe i'll do a separate headcanon for just Velvette when I have time)

Tag List:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac

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kamaluhkhan · 9 months

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in my head, i play a supercut of us

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.

a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)

you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)

now — summer, age 18

driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming.

it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.

your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too.

it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s.

you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open.

"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!"

"four summers can do that," you note.

you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug.

"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?"

"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season."

you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.

"possibly," laurel sighs.

"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun."

the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack.

belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs.

"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours."

"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"

you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.

"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.

"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there."

with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking.

"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?"

susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.

instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.

"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well?

it was almost too much.

tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.

“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.

“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”

“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”

“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:

“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah.

"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”

“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”

“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”

you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.

“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”

your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”

you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.

when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.

after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad.

"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.

you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.

“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”

“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.”

stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.

“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.

steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing.

"yeah, well, i’m here.”

jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”

“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”

"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.

you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting.

"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.

"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote."

“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."

then — summer, age 11

you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.

it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good.

"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat.

"no way, man. it's freezing."

you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach.

"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.

"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."

"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare.

"i'm good," conrad snapped.

"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.

"i'm not scared —"

"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him.

"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed.

"yeah, but if connie —"

"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.

"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.

conrad smiled at you softly. "right."

reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.

"ready?"

conrad nodded once. "ready."

hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind.

now

jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize.

"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet."

jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly.

"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"

the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer.

"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive.

you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay.

"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.

"like i said: intense," you answer cooly.

"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating.

"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"

jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer.

"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.

who the fuck is nicole?

nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.

the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too.

jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension.

"never have i ever gotten a tattoo."

you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink.

"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes.

"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage.

the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other.

"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.

you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach."

the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.

then — summer, age 13

"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose.

"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.

"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)

that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.

"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically.

years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course).

during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach.

the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming.

you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm.

"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word).

even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone.

"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked.

"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.

"i'll stay with you," conrad said.

belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together.

"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?"

conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"

you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs."

conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!"

you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.

"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."

"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it.

"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."

you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.

"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."

"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.

"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.

"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."

being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats?

conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks."

you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was.

"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.

"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."

you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other."

you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.

now

you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.

the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.

you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.

conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink.

“morning,” he whispers.

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply.

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.

“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs.

conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”

“i thought you loved football.”

“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”

you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports.

“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.

conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant.

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well.

“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.

“do what?”

conrad scoffs. “be jealous.”

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

#conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher angst #if you can't tell i am very very excited about this series!!#saf writes

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somethingaboutvampires · 2 years

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#k. doing better this year controlling my anger. like better than a few months ago. it's a process #so falling back on my prior teaching to stay in one emotion and broken down for 24 hrs #then finding your way out by just figuring out your next steps #tackling your anger and fear like a problem #and even if saying i cant figure out what to do but i can take extra care of myself until i figure out what to do #thats better than sitting in those feelings nonstop #so anyway im just moving fwd bc what else can i do #cancelled two dates with myself today and now im ready to get my cook on #so future me will have food for a few days bc future me will not have mental energy but current me does

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dimepdf · 1 year

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★ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

synopsis. you were a sucker for jealousy sex, man.

pairing. toji fushiguro x reader

genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, established relationship, domestic fluff, dilf!toji, milf!reader, tattoos, jealousy sex, exhibitionish, Toji being childish, cowgirl position, hints of subby Toji | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍 800+ w.c.

Dilf!Toji who comes home from picking up Megumi and your daughter Nya from their kindergarten after-school activities.

Toji scolds the two for running down the hallway as soon as the front door opens, their little pitters from their feet slapping against the wooden floor as they rush into the living room where you were lying snuggly just to tackle you into a hug.

The two are all smiles and giggles as they kick off their sneakers and snuggle up next to you.

They were practically glowing with excitement, as if they hadn't seen you just hours before, on the same day you had taken them to school. "Mommy! Mommy! Can I show you what I made in art today?"

Despite posing the question, the girl had already started unzipping her bag and shuffling through the strange, cryptic amount of things she had packed inside of her small Hello Kitty backpack.

If you hadn't had quick enough reflexes, you'd have thought she was trying to take your eye out by shoving the bendy wire figure right into your face.

"Oh wow, honey, it looks so creative; I can tell you worked really hard on it." You honestly couldn't tell what it was—fuzzy purple, red, and green covered wires all bent into some sort of shape that you could only assume to be a figure, but you put on your best motherly smile for your child.

"It's you, mommy! Can you tell, I even gave it a big butt." When Toji came into the living room, slouching his shoulders on the back of the couch and leaning forward.

Looming over the exchange, you decided to change the direction of the conversation before he could get remotely lewd about his favorite body part of yours.

"Did you make anything, Megumi?" Despite not being your biological son, the coal-haired boy still showed the same amount of admiration for you as your own daughter did.

But it was still very clear that Megumi had all of Toji’s attitude, with the boy showing no interest in his sister's show-in-tell and not even bothering to cover up his glare at her art project. "That looks like crap," Megumi states bluntly, earning a dramatic gasp from Nya.

The girl held the figure to her chest as if she were protecting it from him.

"You look like crap." Toji teases, no better than the children. As the three start bickering back and forth with each other, you reach for the TV remote and pause the Netflix show that you were trying to binge.

It was like you were raising three kids, as the argument only became pettier by the second.

"Why don't you tell mommy about how Itaduri’s mom liked your tattoos?" Megumi shrugged, your brow furrowed in surprise as the two children abruptly switched teams to go against their father.

"Is that why she was touching your arm?" Nya asked naively, unaware that she had just unpinned a grenade.

Your palm pushed away Toji’s face as he tried to distract you with a kiss, curving him as you dug for more information between the two. "And what was daddy saying while she was touching his arm?"

“He said thank you.”

Now that you understood the cost of having a super hot husband, you weren't blind to Toji’s charm, but over the years of being in love with him, it was pretty easy to say that he was just blessed with his attractiveness.

Having women throw themselves at him was nothing new,it was just another daily problem added to the things that Toji had to go through.

It's not like he entertained any of the women that came up to him because he truly only loves you, but that didn't mean that you weren't allowed to be a little needier sometimes.

Plus, he wasn't complaining much while lavishing you with affection. His hands lingered on your body long after the kids had fallen asleep for their naps.

It was daring, having to straddle his lap on the couch in the family living room knowing that the kids could wake up at any moment, but for Toji.

It was just another goal he was willing to complete, seeing how fast he could make you cum in that circumstance.

Handing his hand down to your thighs, he gives them a squeeze as he catches his breath, watching you ride him with an admiring glint in his eye. "You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?"

"Really? more beautiful than that other bitch?" You knew Itadori’s mother wasn’t a bitch.

If anything, she was a kind lady who knew how to make really good brownies.

You’d probably scalp her if you ever saw her skirting with Toji again.

No hard feelings, but she should know better than to touch what was yours.

"So much—ah, you’re the most beautiful woman I know." Toji whimpered, reaching his tattooed hand in between and sharing some attention to your clit.

You were a sucker for jealousy sex, man.

🔖 @chloee0x0 @yazmunson @kawatabae @haitaniwhor3 @pluzo @hey-gurls69 @momoewn @kogoshidied @disaster-rose @hoohoohope @pidwidge @jadeisthirsting @zuuki @watyousayin @tojishugetiddies @rumi-rants @justanotherkpopstanlol @awkwardaardvarkforever @lexiinanime @melty-kisses @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ficti0nalslxt @Morpheus_sturridge @sheluvzeren @kodemzx @IplaytheTromboneandI’maMhasimp @elisedylandy @Sacvh

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not me making another milf!reader man,,

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader

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bahrtofane · 3 months

Text

your relationship with jude is something that remains to be seen. and yet you love him, he loves you. will you finally admit it?

Word count - 900+

Watch it - silly over thinking reader, its okay jude is there

—--

“I think you’re one of a kind.” he hums, flicking the hair tie on his wrist-your hair tie-against him. The soft slap it lands on his skin brings you back to reality.

You don’t look up. Partly afraid, partly ashamed. Who are you to be one of a kind to Jude ?

He swallows, fidgeting with his hands from his seat across from you. You worry him in more ways than one. Eager to come when he calls, and yet so shy and timid when you get here. It's almost like you're afraid of him- are you? He hopes not. That's not what he wishes this to be.

You sit at the dining table in his home, you don't know why you sat here first. Couch felt too intimate, too real. He didn't oppose, letting you take a seat farthest away from the head of the table. There's a hidden meaning here you wish to bury. But your mind knows it all the same.

You have to face it head on eventually, why not now.

“I’m sorry.” you mumble out, as graceful as a newborn calf. Half the confidence as one. You finally manage to look him in the eye, you want to cry the moment your eyes meet. He sits leaning against the table, afraid of missing a single word from your lips.

His eye brows furrow, “what for?” soft as ever.

“I don't know,” you sigh,”for-i guess just-making you deal with me while you have so much going on.”

He frowns, “I wanna show you something,” getting up and motioning for you to follow,

Did he not hear you? What is he up to.

You follow him through the halls of his house, past doors and hallways till you get to a door at the end of the hall. You look at him, brows raised, puzzled.

He pushes the door open and you're greeted to a bedroom. Jerseys line the walls, there's a shelf for trophies. And then it dawns on you, this is his room. You've never been here, not yet. A threshold that you haven't let yourself cross. And here you are, here he is, holding the door open for you. It's like he's opening his heart out, carefully carved an incision over his chest where you fit. You blink.

“Come.” is all he says.

So you do, sliping inside and awkwardly standing off in the corner.

He smiles at you, soft, shaking his head. He rests a knee on the edge of his bed, patting the top. So you do, gently sliding on and waiting for his next move.

He doesn't speak, instead kneeling down and shuffling under his bed. He brings out a shoe box, handing it to you.

He's giving you a pair of shoes?

You open the box and find a scattered collection of memories spanning the time you've spent together.

Polaroids if you two, movie tickets, game tickets, little trinkets you hand him on a whim.

“I was gonna put it in a proper box but I figured you needed to see it today,” he scratches the back of his head, gaze shying away from your own.

He's scared. You see it in the way his legs bounces next to you on his bed, the way he's chewing his bottom lip, hands balled up in his own comforter. He's scared it's too much, that he'll be giving too much too soon, too much for you and you'll shrink away from him indefinitely. He can't help it, he loves too hard, too soon. Love. he loves you. Do you love him too? He hopes, prays. His right hand picks at his nails, he's picked it til he's bleeding. He pays no mind, he doesn't even notice. Do you love him too? Say something,, anything, he wants to say, yell, scream and shout.

He's Jude Bellingham, and he's afraid of his own love. He's nothing but a boy who years for one the way he yearns for them. He's Jude. And he yearns for you.

You take a breath in, setting the box down next to you. He panics, eyes going wide and scrambling out of his seat. Oh he's done it again hasn't he. Letting his big stupid dumb heart do the thinking.

You pull his arm, getting up, and tackling him in a bone crushing hug, sending him back first to his bed,just about knocking the air out of him.

“I love you,” you mumble, now laying on top of him. And he laughs. He laughs loud and bright. You love him.

“I love you!” he manages to blurt between giggles.

You smile, but you can't contain your tears. He keeps every memory? In a neat box under his bed? As a reminder of his love? In order to always keep you near? To never forget not even a second?

You didn't know someone could love so much, so hard, so wholly. And here he is. Giving his heart to you. The little incision on his chest now a gash where his hearts been ripped out, handed to you. He trusts you all too much. But you love him. Oh how you love him. If it meant carrying the world you would.

Oh how sweet jude is. He wipes your tears, gently kissing your forehead.

“Hey hey, it's okay. I got you.” he mumbles into your neck.

Does he ever.

#jude bellingham blurb #jude fluff #jude x you #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #football imagine #football fanfic #footy fic #football #bahr blurbs

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 3 months

Text

Learn to Take "No" for an Answer

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic)

Alastor was often a busy man, but he always managed to keep tabs on you. The moment your heart rate started to increase, he could feel it. He’d stopped what he was doing immediately and went off to find you. The moment he saw you surrounded by Sinners, with Vox at the center, he was ready to initiate a massacre.

But instead, he watched as you held your own, not once swaying from your opinions.

Once you tackled Vox to the ground, though, Alastor knew he needed to step in. He knew you could definitely hold your own for now, but you were not powerful enough to combat Vox if he retaliated. He only wished he’d been able to watch you stab that knife through Vox’s throat…

A few minutes earlier...

Humming to yourself, you skillfully sidestepped a bloody corpse on the sidewalk. Sometimes all you needed was a nice walk to clear your head. Today, the walk improved your mood immensely. The only thing that could make it better was if Alastor started one of his broadcasts. You knew it was unlikely to happen, but that didn't stop you from glancing up at the speakers above the streets in hopes they'd turn on.

You passed by the VoxTek TV display, pausing to watch the news highlights. Another turf war on the other side of the city, an ad for some sort of imp hitman business, clips from the latest episode of Hell’s Next Top Idol. Anything owned by VoxTek wasn’t allowed in the hotel, which meant you didn’t have access to all the media you would’ve liked. Sometimes, watching the TV display was the closest thing you got.

“Like what you see?” A tall figure suddenly appeared behind you. The small group of Sinners who’d also crowded around the TV display suddenly burst into exclamations and talking.

Turning around, you found yourself looking up at Vox's flatscreen face, causing you to grimace.

“Oh, come now, don’t be like that. I expected better from Alastor’s little pet.” Vox was grinning slyly, arms behind his back with authority. “I have a proposition for you, sweetheart.”

“If you’re here to ask me to watch Al for you, the answer is ‘no.’” Glaring, you attempted to find a way out of the crowd circling around you and Vox, but the wall of Sinners had increased, becoming impenetrable.

Vox rolled his eyes. “Of course not, hot stuff. I’m not an idiot. Alastor doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t,” you shrugged. “Regardless, I really should be on my way.”

Even with that statement, the crowd of Sinners didn’t move. They were all watching Vox, enamored with the scene playing out in front of you. As your heart rate increased, you could only hope that Alastor would notice.

“We should talk some more, sweetheart. You’re such a handsome little thing.” One of Vox’s hands reached towards your face, caressing your cheek. “If you ditched that old-fashioned prick and came with me instead, I think you’d find yourself much better off.”

Clenching your jaw, you angled your face out of Vox’s grasp. “I'm doing just fine as I am right now, thanks.” You made your voice cold, desperately trying to get your disinterest across.

“Don’t be so sure.” Vox raised an artificial eyebrow. “I could give you more than Alastor ever could. Join me, and you can become one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords.”

The talking from the surrounding crowd grew louder, people taking pictures and recording the confrontation. The idea that Vox just asked to share his power with some random Sinner was crazy to the rest of the public. It wouldn’t take very long for word to travel all throughout Hell. The idea of your face plastered across cell phones and TV screens across the city made you nervous. Not to mention, you’d have to report to Vox, and he was an asshole.

“I'm not interested,” you ground out, keeping your back straight to feign confidence.

Vox scoffed. “Playing hard to get, are we?” He was grinning. “You look so fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

Silently, you were begging someone, anyone, to come and rescue you. You couldn’t guarantee that you could keep your composure much longer. “I’m not interested,” you repeated, just as sternly.

“Aww, are you mad, sweetheart?” Vox cooed mockingly. “Upset your owner isn’t here to save you? If you came with me, you’d never have to worry about being on your own.”

In a flash, your hands twitched and a knife was suddenly being held to Vox’s throat. You’d tackled him to the ground, the sharp blade reflecting your bright eyes. His eyes were wide, clearly not expecting you to retaliate.

“Call me sweetheart again and I’ll castrate you, you flat-faced fuck.”

“Oh my!” A dark shadow appeared behind you, quickly followed by Alastor’s tall figure. Despite his smile, you could clearly see he was just as pissed as you were. “Darling, is Vox bothering you?”

“Not anymore.” You pressed the knife closer to his neck, allowing a few droplets of blood to slide down the knife before withdrawing. Licking the blood off the blade, you gave Vox a dark grin. “You taste like battery acid. No wonder no one wants you.”

Alastor laughed heartily. “How true! Come along, my dear! Charlie is probably wondering where we are.” Placing your arm in his, you allowed Alastor to escort you away from the now-silent crowd.

“I fucking hate that guy,” you snarled once you’d gotten a few blocks away.

“A nuisance, surely,” Alastor agreed. “I must say, you handled that wonderfully. Quite an entertaining display.”

Smiling lightly, you found yourself flushed at the compliment. “It was nothing. He just needed to learn to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Chuckling, Alastor matched your smile. “I’m sure you got the point along just fine, dearest. And if he didn’t…” Alastor’s face darkened, smile turning sinister. Now it was your turn to laugh, and that was how you walked into the hotel, giggling at each other like a couple of teenage girls.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #rhys-writes #hazbin hotel vox #vox is kind of an asshole ngl #reader hates vox fr #alastor x reader queerplatonic

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klausysworld · 10 months

Text

Pet Puppy

Klaus wasn’t easily fooled. He knew that the Salvatores, Elena & co were hiding something from him. So he did what anyone would do and investigated the matter.

He figured it out to a person, originally he thought that perhaps it was another Gilbert sibling but then one day he caught her scent.

She must’ve been a wolf, meaning she must be Tyler’s sister or another werewolf family was in town. So he went straight to his first sired hybrid and fired 20 questions at him. He watched as the boy struggled to find any possible loopholes to answer the questions in a a way that told him nothing. And yet by doing so it told him just about everything.

He figured out what she must look like, how she dresses, things she liked and what things meant to her. She was the perfect omega in his mind, a sweet little girl who would behave well and have a soft, innocent persona.

He knew she must if she had been hidden away this long, been compliant to the rules the Mystic Falls gang had set for her.

It wasn’t the easiest task as he searched through the Salvatores house and spied on the Gilbert’s. He checked Bonnies too but found she barely stayed there herself now that she had her mother back. Klaus had nearly forgotten that he was able to get into Caroline’s house after the whole biting situation.

But when he noticed the blonde coming to the grill and picking up an extra plate of food his curiosity peaked. He followed her home and that’s when he spotted the pretty face he had pictured so well as she came and pulled the curtains closed with a bright smile on her face as Elena beckoned her into her arms.

He had to come back another day, get her alone and see if she truly was the perfect omega.

His wolf already thought so and even if she wasn’t he might just take her for the fun of it, piss off everyone in town while having a pretty thing to entertain him.

Though that perspective changed when he got inside the house the next morning. He watched as she nearly jumped a mile when he came up behind her resulting in a pillow launched at his head and a chuckle to erupt from him.

He chased after her as she darted around the house, taking much enjoyment in the hunt before ultimately pouncing at her and tackling her to the ground.

His wolf could have purred at the instant submission she offered once he had caught her, the way her neck arched for him to bite if he so pleased and the little whine she emitted was delightful.

He looked down at her, keeping her pinned against the carpeted floor as he looked her over. She were smaller than he originally imagined but it only added to his attraction, her eyes big and fearful and yet a swirl of lust within them as his wolf produced a strong alpha scent to entice her in. His head tilted to the side and in response so did hers making the corner of his lips pull up.

She wriggled beneath him slightly in an attempt to get him to weaken his hold which he did after squeezing her neck gently. He moved back for her to sit up, he watched as she twitched in anticipation, as she got ready to bolt again. But she didn’t, just remained on edge as he trailed his fingers along each curve of her body. Certain spots he touched gained different reactions, mostly whimpers and little squeaks if he pressed down too hard.

But she didn’t shy away from him, she allowed him to touch and feel every inch of her skin that he could reach and shuddered or shivered in reply. Her wolf’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as his hands left a path of fire in their wake. Both amusement and lust mixed through him as she practically crawled her way into his lap and he rubbed all along her thighs, hips, back, torso, chest, shoulders.

His lips brushed along the side of his neck as she whined quietly to herself before stopping just behind her ear and kissing the spot tenderly.

“Pretty puppy” he murmured as a soft purr rumbled through her. Her head leant back against his shoulder as she sat between his legs. His teeth nibbled her earlobe lightly making her lips part and a soft moan to leave her.

Another 20 minutes went by of his kisses growing rougher, her sounds getting higher and louder as her body arched and clung to him.

Of course until a loud shriek tore his attention away from the swell of her breast which he had nearly gotten completely out of her bra cup. He glanced up to find Caroline looking horrified at the display of hickeys and bite marks in her friends throat, let alone her enemy with his mouth around the omegas tit.

Y/n was entirely out of it though and still moaning softly as his hands groped her gently, his eyes daring Caroline to do or say anything.

She practically ran out of her house, straight on the phone and screaming down it to Damon in a fit.

But by the time Damon had arrived, Klaus had Y/n back at his house.

Her legs around his waist and arms around his neck as he buried his face in between her breasts while he carried her up the stairs.

He nipped and sucked along them greedily before dropping her onto his bed and crawling on top of her. And he was entirely ready to claim her right there and then, until he looked down and saw her sweet face.

Her eyes completely black and her body almost vibrating from how loud her purr was. The backs of her fingers brushed over her chest as he hummed gravely.

“You’re such a sweet omega aren’t you puppy?” He muttered seeing her pant and tug at his henley like a dog in heat. His lips pulled into a smile and he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. “Oh I think I’ll be keeping you my lovely” he smirked.

———————————————————————

And he most definitely intended on it.

He didn’t care how many times Stefan, Damon, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, Jeremy, Tyler, anyone came to try take her away. He had a firm grip on her at all times, keeping her at his side or pressed to his chest.

She was such a good girl for him, always doing as asked and curled up on top of him.

He would kiss her head and smooth his hands down her sides while feeling her face muzzle into his chest.

He carried her just about everywhere, whether it was to the kitchen or across town. There shouldn’t even be the slightest risk that she would be stolen from him. And he made sure of it.

Hands on her, arms around her, scent rubbed all over her and a range of sweet nothings and dirty somethings whispered in her ears.

She was his little pup until the day they both died, she would never leave him, not with how good he was for her.

He always kept her safe, protected, happy, loved and cared for.

“Hungry? Don’t worry puppy, I have your food on the way and your snack drawer is full.”

“Thirsty? Would you rather drink my blood or I bring you something different?”

“Sleepy little pup? That’s okay, you can curl right up here.”

Anything she needed, he could and would provide. Always…and forever of course.

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