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minjix · 1 year

Text

cherry pie → Vinnie Hacker x best friend!female!reader

summary: in which Vinnie risks it all whilst baking a cherry pie on stream

warnings: friends to lovers trope, Vinnie being insecure, few swear words. fluff ofc :)))

a/n: stopped writing because I got no engagement with my writing, no reblogs or comments, something that creators on this platform thrives on. This is not Instagram, you can’t spam like a creators posts and think that it’ll do anything, because honestly it’s all discouraging. with that in mind, i will block spam liking because it does nothing.

word count: 0.9k

masterlist

You loved Vinnie, ever since you two met it was love at first sight. You both were shy in nature, but the moment you were introduced you were so sure you’ve met someone from your past life. The conversation between you two came easily, no awkwardness, just a melody each time your eyes met.

Vinnie was special, his hand grasping yours so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd. Always keeping a napkin in his pocket since you always seemed to spill something. He often found himself comparing you to the sun, but quickly realized that not even the big star above his head came close in comparison to you. Vinnie loved you too.

Both of you kept silent, choked laughs and glances to one’s direction when the other wasn’t looking.

It was clear to everyone else, the love of which was growing everyday keeping you both prisoners in its grasp.

Vinnie was convinced he’d die if he never admitted it, his chest tightening as his heart grew and doubled its beats when you were around. But he was terrified of losing you if he spoke the truth, so he hid, despite his world crumbling every time another content creator asked for your number, which you always declined with a reserved smile, the smile you promised Vinnie was his.

—————————

Vinnie wanted to do something different for his upcoming stream that weekend. Instead of playing the usual games he wanted to bake a cherry pie with you, and you immediately agreed before the tattooed blonde finished his sentence. So there you were, flour coating your cheeks and clothes after Vinnie decided to throw some at you.

The whole kitchen was a mess, eggs and crushed cherries staining cupboards and clothes. Vinnie’s eyes were on you whilst you spoke to the viewers. You were a mess, but you looked so fucking beautiful with that smile that Vinnie would die for. He scolded himself when his thoughts crafted a world in which you stood before him, dressed in white and his ring on your finger. It stung, so deeply that he had to take a deep breath to come back to reality, the reality where you were only his friend and nothing more.

He remembered Noah telling Vinnie how he was his own worst enemy, and now he wholeheartedly agreed as he watched you in this perfect light, a beckoning for him to tell you his deepest secrets, but yet his tongue remained still and a bitter feeling grew in his stomach as he continued to watch you.

You were his opposite. Vinnie bore a dark cloud over his head, sometimes it’d rain or thunder, but now it was merely there, darkening his thoughts while you radiated sunshine and warmth. He stood no chance.

You gave the blonde a soft tap on his inked arm to bring him back from wherever his mind traveled to, something you were used to see happening. “You still with us?” You whispered, a smile on your lips but your eyes held a spark of concern.

To play it cool, the blonde gave you a wink with a cheeky smile, “for you? "Always." He looked back to the monitor so he could read the chat, but every time you let out a laugh his mind wandered to that special place again.

“Honestly, it looks pretty good,” you spoke as you glanced down at the cherry pie. “Why do you sound so surprised?” He laughed, knocking his shoulder softly into yours.

“Vin, have you met us?” He had to agree on that one. “Besides I’m no chef, and you’re always distracted,” because of you, he wanted to interrupt with, but he bit his lip to force the words back down his throat. “And when you’re not; you play around too much.” You continued.

He turned back to the chat with a exaggerated smile and waved his arms around, “you heard it here folks, Y/n and I are no longer friends,” you quickly grabbed his arms with a giddy laugh, “finally!” He stopped and turned to look down at you. “Bullshit, you love me too much.” He looked serious, but the corner of his lips twitching gave it away.

“Yeah, of course I do. Gonna marry you one day.” You mumbled but Vinnie heard it loud and clear. “Don’t say that.” He quipped. His heart was doing painful somersaults in his chest. “I’m serious, don’t joke about that.” He was sweating as he spoke, his voice shaking with each word. His stream had been long forgotten as you stood in front of him, eyes staring into his.

“Vinn-“ He didn’t let you finish. He compared it to blacking out as he told you how much pain he was in simply because you existed, and how he didn’t mind the pain because it made him feel alive. He came to when you told him how important he was to you too. “I can’t lose you Vin, I’m so scared that I’ll-“ he grabbed your face and quickly pulled you into a toe curling, passionate kiss. A kiss that warmed his heart and he could feel the cracks patching together. Your hands gripped his waist as the kiss continued to grow more passionate, and then you quickly pulled back in panic. “The stream!”

“Fuck em’” he smiled and pulled you back in for another breathtaking kiss. He couldn’t help the laughs escaping him as the kiss continued. He never felt like this and he knew that he would do anything to keep you in this life.

———-

comments and reblogs makes a different!

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undercoverpena · 4 months

Text

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction

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irishmammonagenda · 21 days

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Hi! Can i request MC with older brothers (i have four older brothers 😂) who are very protective of their little sister, and reaction of demon brothers, when MC wants to introduce them to her siblings?

hiya! ofc u can, im so sorry this is so late i saw it in my askbox like a week a week ago then forgot about it 😭😭 and then went away for easter and forgot abt it again😭😭

grma for the ask <3 fic dividers by @cafekitsune

MC With Older Brothers-Obey Me Brothers x Reader

When you had first been transferred to the Devildom, the inital shock of the new environment, the fact that demons and angels were actually real, the fact the fact that magic was actually real had made you forget about the reactions of your family back home upon realising yoou had just disappeared without a trace. It took you around a month to even remember, after the shock had worn off, and you had stopped living in survival mode. You hastily travelled to the Demon Lord´s Castle, and requested a formal visit to your family.

They were livid. Relieved but livid. Your parents, who were workaholics hadn´t noticed until around halfway through the second week. Your older brothers however, noticed the first day. And oh boy, did they want answers.

Going through Barbatos' portal was never a truly pleasant experience, although it wasn't unpleasant either. It was like that feeling in the pit of your abdomen when you're pushed too high on a swingset, but to a lesser extent. It almost looked like stars as the insides of the vortex falshed before your eyes before fading to reveal the park that you grew up near.

The reds and oranges of the leaves shone sparkling against the reddening sky with the morning dew. The early birds chirped, diving for worms, leaves fell gently down to the ground. You made your way home.

The familiar white door stood out like the gates of the Celestial Realm, your own personal paradise, everything you knew before the rug was pulled under you. You tried the doorhandle. Locked. Sighing, you looked under the entrance mat for the spare key and unlocked the door, walking into the hall. You had entered the kitchen and saw Evan, your second eldest brother making a sandwhich.

"Hiya!" You greet him. "Whatcha makin', Evs?"

Evan, who had just picked up his plate turned around and dropped it, his jaw slacked open, eyes wide. He stared at you, not even caring that his sandwich had fallen. "Y-you…where the fuck have you been?!"

"Uh...I-"

"Y'know what? Don't answer that yet." He steps away from you, moving out of the kitchen to the base of the stairs. "Sammie! Ben!" Evan shouts a few times, before hearing a pair of 'what?!'s back. "Get your asses down here now!"

Soon enough, reluctant thuds sound from the top of the stairs, getting louder as two of your brothers thunder down the stairs, you gulp. Lord Diavolo, you were in for it now.

Samuel appears downstairs first, the baggy MCR shirt he always wears to lounge around half hidden by his stained jacket. Ben follows soon after, phone in hand, no doubt open on the game he had been testing out. They both stall when they see you, Ben trips, and starts to fall, taking Samuel down with him.

“I-…MC..” Samuel swallows thickly. “W-where have you been…”

Ben parrots this.

You gulp. Adam—your oldest brother—would no doubt be the worst. And he wasn’t even home yet!

When Adam, your oldest brother did return from his date with his girlfriend (as you found out), he had demanded answers, and a hug. You try to explain it away, saying you found a scholarship at a college in another country, you must've just forgot to mention it! Silly you! Atleast that's what you were telling your older brothers, they didn't need to know you were taken to hell and the scholarship wasn't too far from the truth!

"Why didn't you visit? Or call? Or anything?" Was a question you heard parroted back to you multiple times.

"I...uh...it was just the craziness of it all....I forgot to call..." You rub the back of your neck. "I had to get a new phone anyway..." You say, giving them your number. It was a reasonable excuse. They couldn't exactly argue with it.

Samuel grabs your hand, the rough callouses of his fingers comforting. Permanent dents from his mastery of the guitar, he swings your arm back and forth, reminding himself that you're not in a ditch somewhere. "As long as you're safe...."

Evan huffs, Adam stares at you, eyes following your every move, he grumbles, "You're coming home every holiday you can. And calling us regularly. No more dropping off the face of the earth."

"Haha alright!" You laugh nervously, he didn't need to know that you technically did fall off the face of the earth.

"And I want to visit this College." Adam adds, Evan nods in agreement, as do the two younger of the brothers.

Shit.

Ben stretches, before sitting forward. "So tell us all about your dorm. Got any roommates?"

And boy, did that cause a few heated discussions. Though in the end you got away pretty much scott free. Though you had to visit bi-monthly, and call atleast bi-weekly.

On one of these bi-monthly visits, you'd decided to bring one of your 'roommates' along with you....

Just how would that go?....

LUCIFER

"Oh?~ Care to repeat that, MC?"

It had been a busy day in the Devildom for the Avatar of Pride. He was finishing up on paperwork when you came into his office asking him to come to the next visit to your brothers with you.

He acts a bit cocky over it, with his signature smirk and all, but agrees almost instantly.

Despite the fact that you asked HIM to meet your family, and that he was feeling quite flustered, he still somehow managed to make your cheeks burn and make you feel much more flustered about the situation.

"Hi everyone, this is Lucif-Lucius...! He's one of my roommates!"

"Lucius?"

"...My parents were Greek."

"Yeah, Ben, his parents were Greek don't be racist."

Lucifer relates to Adam on the sole basis that they're both the eldest, though he does feel second hand embarrassment anytime said brother would do anything a little too like him.

Overall its a pleasant time, your brothers were quite charmed by the Avatar of Pride, and it makes your pact mark buzz.

Lucifer fights the urge to place his palms over his face and re-contemplate his entire life and every single action he'd ever taken as he watches Adam, your eldest brother, lecture Samuel, the youngest of your elder brothers. The older man is glaring exasperatedly, Samuel hides his hands in his pocket, clearly uninterested. You watch on and feel a sort of deja vu, so does Lucifer. Does he seriously look like that when he gives out lectures? No wonder his brothers are so unruly! You pat his back from where you both sit on the sofa, he glares at you, though there's no bite to it. The second hand embarrassment is very strong.

MAMMON

"WHA- ehem...I-i mean of course ye'd want te intreduce yer b-brothers to the great M-mammon...!"

If Mams has a tail it'd be wagging like a helicopter propeller thingy.

You want HIM to visit your family?!

He's super tempted to go back and buy the engagement ring he'd saw in a jewellery shop window when shopping now!

He had been too nervous at the time....was he moving too fast...?

He's a nervous wreck, all the way there he's muttering things you can't understand in irish (gaeilgeoir mams agenda)

You can pick up the word 'focáil' (fuck) being thrown about a lot.

What de ye mean MC? He IS calm! Calmer than the sea on a stormy day...but thats still sort of calm!

The name Mammon isn't really known to anyone outside of the occult, so he doesn't change it.

"Mammon?" Evan says raising a brow, "What kind of a name is that?"

"He's Irish Evs don't be racist."

"Oh."

The dinner is quite awkward, but in the end, he somehow manages to win over your brothers.

and hey, if Ben gets more donations from people when he streams, Adam gets more costumers for his personal training, and Samuel and Evan get promotions at their jobs, well he didn't mean to! Honest!

Mammon sits at the dinner table with about as much nervousness as a schoolboy waiting outside the principal's office, he answers every question with a stutter, and tries his best to remember his table manners, your brothers are eyeing him suspiciously, until a clang sounds through the small kitchen, you had dropped your fork. Mammon perks up, happy to be 'useful' to you, "I'll get it!" and he practically dives down to get the utensil before washing it off and giving it to you. Your brothers relax slightly, deeming him too whipped for you to truly be a scumbag.

LEVIATHAN

"You want ME to WHAT?!"

bros panicking more than mammon☠️

Are you sure you want a stinky smelly otaku like me to-😰😰😰😰😰

It takes ages to calm him down enough, then he just feels flustered.

This reminds him of an anime with an insanely long name!

When you arrive at your house, he's so fidgety and nervous someone give this man a hug (dont he'll scream)

You introduce him as Levi, no one bats an eye to that one, hooray!

the atmosphere is very awkward until he notices the sticker on Ben's phonecase.

He finds out that your brother is a streamer, MC how could you never tell him?!

its a lot less awkward a lot more nerdy now.

"O-oh well I see where you're coming from, the mechanics and graphics on the game were great, but the lore needed work!" Levi says, stuttering far less than you'd expect him to. Ben nods, "I mean, I just kind of stayed for the boss fights, but yeah the lore was a bit..." He makes a face. Leviathan leans over, eyes sparkling, you admire them freely, normally he'd notice by now and be too flustered to continue talking. "Yeah! It had so much potential! But it just seemed so rushed!" You look around the room, Adam and Evan are conversing amongst eachother quietly, whilst Sam is trying his best to follow the conversation that Levi and Ben are having.

SATAN

"Oh? I'd be honoured..."

He's giddy, you wanted him of all of his brothers to come with you? Take that Lucifer!

This reminds him of when the love interest brings the protagonist to meet their family!

He reads up on the scenes as a sort of revision, though his natural charm is going to win them over anyway...or maybe not...

"Hello my name's Satan." He reaches out to shake Adam's hand.

Adam swallows, "Satan?"

Satan chuckles, having made a rookie mistake in his nervousness, "My parents were...devout satanists...I've had a hard life..."

Samuel pats his shoulders, "Oh you poor thing..."

He's honestly quite the gentleman, your brothers quite like him, despite his 'unfortunate' name.

"So S-satan..." Adam begins, "What was it like growing up with Satanist parents?" Satan sets his for down, "Oh, not as bad as one would think..." he quickly bullshits, "I did grow up in a very gothic style house though.." Your brothers nod, Evan intterupts, "So did you ever sacrifice any cats?" Satan grips his knife tightly, you feel rage bubble up in his pact mark. "No, satanists--atleast sane satanists--don't do that..." "Oh right..." Evan raises his hands in defense, "Just curious." "Oh no you're fine..." He says smoothly.

ASMODEUS

"Oh my Devil!~ I'd love to!"

Posts about it to his devilgram.

He's geniunely honoured, and sososososo excited.

"Hey guys, this is Asmodeus!"

"..Asmodeus?"

"...His parents are french..."

"Poor thing..."

ofc he wins them over, who do you think he is?

Adam loves him now, and Asmo is his goto for relationship advice.

Adam growns, looking at his phone, you give him a knowing look, "Trouble in Paradise?" "I forgot about our anniversary coming up! It's tomorrow!" He looks geniunely stressed. "There's no way I can get a restaurant reservation in time!" He says, stressing about his upcoming anniversary, it was his turn to do something. He didn't want to disappoint his girlfriend. Asmo shrugs, "So don't." Adam looks at him incredulously. "Excuse me?" "Don't go to a restaurant...the weather forecast says it'll be nice tomorrow, do a picnic or something." Adam gapes his mouth, breathlessly replying, "Yeah that could work...that could work..." A day later, Adam rings you, the picnic was a success! He demands Asmo's number.

BEELZEBUB

"Oh? Yeah MC I'd love to." :D

He's a little bit nervous, but happy that you asked him to go

Plus there's food involved.

Things that are important to you + you + food? He's in heaven (figuratively, last time he was in heaven he got thrown out, literally thrown)

Overall he's really sweet, has to eat a lot before he gets there so he doesn't accidentally eat one of your brothers.

"Hi I'm Beel."

"Beel?"

"He's Russian Evan, don't be racist." You bullshit, Beel looks at you, then smiles because he's looking at you :D

Your brothers love him, he's such a gentle giant.

Beel smiled happily, "This food is amazing." He says, closed eyed smile. "Thanks!" Evan grinned, "Cooked it myself!" Samuel scoffs, "No you didn't you microwaved it." Evan hits him over the head, "Shut up." He grumbles. Beel smiles again, they remind him so much of his own brothers.

BELPHEGOR

"No."

"What do you mean no?" :(

"I'm not going."

"Please."

"No."

"Pleaseee."

"Still no." He groans, putting his pillow over his face.

"I'll just have to ask Lucifer then..."

He jumps up. "Like fuck you will...c'mon, we have a family dinner to attend."

As per usual he is a bastard.

The waling talking definition of a bastard.

Your brothers hate him at first, but as the night goes on, they find out he's actually kind of funny.

"This is Belphie!"

"Belphie?"

"He's Russian don't be racist." You lie.

"Poor thing."

Belphie glares at you.

Belphie groans into his pillow, finally home, he drags you and pulls you onto the bed. Holding you in a vice like grip. "I'm never doing that again." He says tiredly, using you as a teddy bear to go to sleep. Bastard.

im experimenting with post designs :D

'gaeilgeoir' means irish speaker, i've seen it spelt other ways tho

#sorry lads i just really hate europeans #especially irish people😔✊#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor x reader #asks #requests

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krahk · 16 days

Text

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Three

(Or Alastor learns it’s never to late learn your kinks, hell welcomes all)

18+ from here on out to be safe.

Warnings: entering smutty content near the end, written by an amateur. No smutty smut, but it’s beginning from here on out. I am opening that can of worms.

You really hoped you were harder to kill in hell, because these people simply had no sense of preservation of life in them. First full day in hell and you had been invited to a BDSM club, thrown off of a roof and hid from gunfire trying to keep the creepy little janitor from jumping into the crossfires. Trust exercises were not supposed to be life threatening, but the mania of the day had certainly made it harder for you to focus on your situation for the time being. Back at the hotel you gratefully accepted a drink from Husk as the group recapped the day they had just gone through. For a bunch of terrible sinners, they were pretty alright. Like when you were all alive, the group of you was simply trying to get by day by day.

You had learned that Angel was a porn star in Hell, Nifty’s kinks were both frightening and dangerous (mostly to her, but still), Husk you were certain liked nobody, and Vaggie was an aggressive woman who had no issues throwing you through the fire if she thought it would make you a better person on the other side.

You supposed there were worse people to attach yourself to given your situation. Part of you was grateful that you landed in a place that offered you a place to stay, food to eat with a generous host who made sure you were dressed and comfortable all around. Even though you had processed your death fairly quickly (that was normal, according to Angel) you did know that you could have it so much worse and be dealing with everything alone.

Grateful that everyone was heading to their own quarters when Alastor had returned with the little egg creatures, you made sure to avoid hovering your attention in his direction and ran upstairs after Angel, who had the room next to yours. While passing by Alastors room he had pointed a finger towards his open mouth and gagged, to which you could only respond with a forced chuckle. You waved goodnight to him as you opened your room door and found yourself falling onto the bed and passing out before your head even hit the pillow. Day one, over.

After a few weeks of Hell, you had settled into a comfortable routine. In the mornings you would join the others in the lounge for breakfast and coffee, you would all chat and discuss the next redemption plans before everyone would set off on their own plans for the day if Charlie and Vaggie didn’t have an exercise planned. You still had not left the safety of the building, knowing from your first day that it was strictly mean streets out there. Charlie had grabbed you a few more articles of clothing to complete your meagre wardrobe, and you were not picky in the slightest so you accepted your role as a doll she could dress up. She had picked a lot of modest, but cute A-line dresses, shorter skirts with turtlenecks, a suit - she had a clear preference of clothing seeing as your new items closely resembled her and Vaggie’s overall style. One thing you were grateful for was that the shoes she chose you didn’t require you to wear socks. Like your arms, your legs were black from the end of your limbs until your joint, where the black faded after it passed the knee. So it always looked like you were wearing little stockings. In your time in Hell getting comfortable in your new skin you had also discovered a scattering of black and white freckles on your shoulders and upper arms. You found yourself to be one of the luckier sinners, because your feet were still feet. Many souls like yours had come to hell with hooved feet, but you received a tail instead, which was not quite as common.

Angel had been your link to the world outside, he was constantly on his phone and for some lucky reason the underworld had a similar system of communication like earth. Cell phones, social media, advertisements, etc. It was truly not a far cry from what you knew. He had given you an older phone of his to use, the hotel members being the only contacts in your phone (minus Nifty & Alastor, for which you were grateful) and the two of you texted on the daily, him quickly becoming the closest member of the group to you. Even though Husk was the most recent being to die aside from you, Angel was the most willing to adapt to change. He effortlessly weaved through this complicated lifestyle with ease. He was confident, smart, and an all around great guy. If he would consider easing up on the partying and perhaps manage a way to distance himself from his industry he really would be an excellent candidate for redemption.

Alastor had still not spoken with you since your initial confrontation. Not that you were complaining but it was getting to the point that Angel had noticed his distance from you. It was if he was deliberately avoiding any chance that the two of you would end up in the same room. When asked about the radio, you found that even if you wanted to mention what you thought were unimportant details of it, your tongue snapped to the bottom of your mouth, preventing words from coming out. You had lamely said it was a motel item that got caught in your descent and you really had no idea why it followed you. Charlie had simply declared that possessions must occasionally follow a soul, but usually souls don’t fall in a space with decent people who won’t steal your stuff. It was simply considered an anomaly and after the first week thankfully people seemed to forget about it.

And while Alastor might have prevented you from mentioning anything to anyone about the symbols that were in the radio, it didn’t prevent you from researching the symbols. Charlie had a very extensive collection of books in the hotel library that you had been working your way through. Since you had no job and minimal expectations, you were sifting through the books quickly. And because Angel had left in a rush for a shoot earlier in the morning, your recent hobby started a few hours earlier than usual. You had made your way through a large portion of the ‘Historical Literature’ section before hearing a commotion outside of the library. With your ears being so sensitive it was easy for you to not make a sound while honing in on what was being said. It was more Husk and Angel bickering, but this one sounded worse than usual, ending with Angel storming out of the hotel and Vaggie immediately harping on Husk about his behaviour.

You shot a quick message to Angel by text, getting a read notification but no response. Oof, he was really in a mood. You sent another one telling him you were there when he was ready and a heart emoji, which resulted in a heart being sent in return. Husk had followed him shortly after so you weren’t too worried about how his night would go.

You had started sifting through the next category of books, which appeared to be something of a ‘Human Magic’ section. It appeared to start right at the beginning of humanity’s creation, which meant this was another hefty subject you’d have to filter through. You were only going shelf by shelf because you had started with ‘Runework’, ‘Salem Witchcraft’ and ‘Hell’s Overlords’, hoping to find the information right away with no luck.

Your phone vibrated and you absentmindedly opened the message from Angel, and your stomach dropped.

‘I need help.’

You tried calling and the phone went straight to voicemail, disconnecting as his mailbox was full. You shot out of the library and looked around. With Husk going after Angel, was he in trouble as well? Damn you wished Husk carried a phone. Vaggie and Charlie were also absent from the hotel or at least very very quiet with whatever they were doing.

You decided there was no time to hesitate and you went out the front door, running straight for the Vee’s district in an attempt to remember every bar that Angel had mentioned frequenting in the past. He was a famous porn star, surely someone had noticed the giant spider passing by them on the street. It wasn’t as if he was capable of being a wallflower after all.

You had started into a light jog as soon as you hit main street, the people out and about making you nervous. You were grateful that your new form allowed you to run without any difficulty, the benefits of being a deer hybrid being in your favour today. You ran quickly towards the bright district, making it there in a short period of time, and merging with a larger crowd entering. It seemed dangerous making it obvious that you were out on your own. You were due for trouble after all, it had been a fairly calm life since keeping your distance from him.

The group you had followed went straight into an arcade bar. Great. You were certain that Angel wasn’t here, games weren’t his thing but the giant windows peering into the establishment made it easy to recognize that he wasn’t present. You had made it a few blocks before trying to call Angel again, with it still failing. During your second attempt you noticed that there were a few people heading your way on the sidewalk so you shrunk over to the edge of the building to give them room to move past you.

But you found yourself bumping into one of them who deliberately stayed in your path, and when you looked at their face you came eye to eye with a wolf demon smiling and growling down at you. You glanced around you and noticed that you were surrounded by two additional wolves and your back pressed against the wall behind you in an attempt to create some space away from them.

“Hey baby,” The one you ran into started, “Eager for a good time? Can’t keep your hands off of me?” The other two laughed, one even licking his lips before his friend continued. ”You look cute, how about we find some privacy?” He stepped towards you with his arm reaching for yours and you took a step away, right into the other wolf. Shit. The three laughed at you shoving the one aside and walking backwards to try and make a gap, but they were advancing quickly. Panicking, you threw the only thing you had on you - the phone - with which the corner smacked one of them squarely in the eye, making him shout in pain. Another jumped at you and you quickly dodged his lunge by bracing a hand on his head and leaping over him to start into a sprint once your feet hit the ground.

Note for next time: Heels are super cute, but super terrible to run in, because they caught up to you quickly, despite your quick escape. One wolf immediately punched you in the face, causing your nose to have a minor explosion of blood shoot out of it, which made your brain rattle.

”You might just be cuter like this,” One guy said, pulling your arm so hard you lost your balance and was dragging behind him as the three took you into the closest alleyway. “We could have had a nice night, but you had to go and fuck it up. Now you’ll get what’s coming to ya.” The one who held your arm roughly lifted you back to your feet and slammed you against the brick wall, making your head hit it just as hard. It was getting hard to think about a way out, your head was so foggy.

“Hey this bitch was texting Angel Dust!” One of the guys said, probably the one who had her phone thrown to his face. “She’s got to be a dirty slut! Have you seen any of his shit? It’s messed up man, we got ourselves a wild one here!” He cheered, whooping with the other demon who wasn’t holding you up. You made eye contact with your captor and he was growling low with a sinister smile on his face.

”Lucky us! Prime meat for free? Baby I’ll make your night better than anyone you’ve ever been w-“ his words were cut off, as his neck suddenly had a black tentacle wrapped around it, squeezing so hard his eyeballs were protruding out of their sockets. You fell to your ass, legs bent on the ground, hands trying to steady your swaying head. Looking over you saw the bodies of the other wolves, already separated into a few pieces, some appendages being swung around by the tentacles.

Looking forward you noticed who came to your rescue. It was Alastor, and he was pissed. Thankfully not at you, although you certainly had a concussion so there was a chance you were misinterpreting the situation. He said something to your assaulter about how to be a gentleman and ‘perhaps he would discover how to treat a lady in his next life’ before all the tentacles had wrapped about his and his friends bodies before disappearing with them into the ground. Your surroundings now quiet except for your heavy breathing, you watched Alastor take even, steady steps towards your fallen form.

“Well now! Haven’t you got yourself in a bit of trouble, hmm?” He taunted, entirely too chipper. Closing one eye and squinting the other to avoid seeing double, you noticed that he had blood on his face, under his nose, which you apparently pointed at, because he raised a brow and questioned it.

”Blood on your face.” You said with a bit of a slur, “S’little bit here.” And pointed to your own nose, fingers getting coated in blood. His hand reached up to his face and he touched his nose, only for blood to begin to flow from it. Shocked, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at it while he frowned at you before offering a second handkerchief to you. You shook your head, well tried too, and said something about being sleepy.

”Now, now, sleeping after a head injury is most certainly bad for you!” He chirped, putting his handkerchiefs away now that his face was clean. He leaned over to inspect your injuries, taking note of your head and nose specifically.

“Care to explain why you are wandering about on your own my dear? Itching for a second death?” He asked in a condescending manner. “Quite foolish of you really, to come without an escort - why you are quite lucky I happened to be around, darling!” He waved his hand about in a dramatic fashion before offering his hand to you, lifting you up. On your feet you dusted off what rubble had got on you, found your phone settled on the ground a few feet away and began to try and walk to it only to find that your balance was way off course. With one hand holding your head you reached for your phone, noticing new texts from Angel.

‘with my script later, are you free?’ Followed with: ‘Sorry babe! That first message didn’t send all the way, love ya xoxo’

For fuck sakes.

”Hmm?”Alastor hummed, looking down at your phone, reading the messages. “Oh-ho! So you were on a rescue mission were you? Noble indeed, considering your naivety and lack of knowledge of any part of Hell outside the hotel.”

You shot him a nasty glance. “I was worried.” Augh. Pathetic response.

“Very stupid thing to do, really.” Picking at one of his claws, attempting to be indifferent. “Very stupid indeed, especially since I have just had an unfortunate revelation.”

”Hmm?” You responded, still trying to get the throbbing in your head to settle down. “I know it was stupid,” agreeing with him made him in a good mood, Husk had told you, “But I had to try and find him, I don’t think he has many people to depend on.”

He gave you a look of contempt. He really did not care for anyone other than himself.

“You and I need to have a chat darling.” His eyes narrowed as he wrapped a hand around your upper arm, painfully putting pressure on a new bruise from the previous baddie. He dragged you alongside him, holding you so close to him you could feel the heat of his body through his jacket. “Say nothing until we make it to the hotel my dear, there are always eyes on us out here.” He gestured with his microphone cane in a wide sweep, indicating literally every where could be listening. You obeyed him by not responding which kept Alastor in a good mood during the walk home.

However upon arrival, he dragged your sorry ass through his shadow travel again, but thankfully to your room. More specifically your bathroom. He gestured for you to sit down, which you did on the edge of the tub, and watched him gather a pathetic amount of first aid. He removed his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his right hand, almost all the way up to the elbow. You noticed his arms were covered in scars that stood out from his black skin that was similar to your own pattern, except fading away before the joint of his elbow. The scars were all thin and bright white, a stark contrast. However what he was looking at intensely was a large bruise that had formed right below his elbow, right above the fade of his black skin. He then turned to you and grabbed your right arm and lined up the two. You had a much darker bruise that matched his. Weird. Didn’t Pentious say that no one had landed a hit on Alastor before? And that a small piece of coat was all he himself had managed to get? So how did those stupid wolves get up on him? And when?

The room had a massive chill fill the air as Alastor processed what he was thinking. What was he thinking? Could you talk now? Should you? You should at least thank him.

”Thank-“

”Quiet.” he interrupted. No filter on his voice for that one. Just a deep, sharp command.

Your lips tightened into a thin line and you nodded despite your killer headache. He released your arm and went back to the counter. With his jacket off you could see that he, too, had a small deer tail on his backside. It was red and black, much like his hair. It was probably the only cute thing about him, and you’d die before you said that out loud. Alastor came back to you with a warm wet cloth and some antiseptic. He instructed you to wipe up the blood on your face and he wiped a few of your more surface scrapes that were on your legs and knees. You narrowed your own eyes, why on earth was he doing this? It was as if he was trying to memorise every little injury you had received. Once you felt as if you had removed all the dried blood from your face you braced both hands on either side of you as you watched Alastor tend to your wounds. When he was quiet and focused he wasn’t too terribly frightening, but in the way that a poisonous snake might be. Obviously dangerous, possibly venomous, and could certainly kill you given the chance, but still captivating to watch. He released a huff of air when he was done checking out your head, just a bump he said, he moved to your nose. He had gently grasped your chin and moved your head from side to side, where he traced some of the worst damage with his free hand.

“Not broken, my dear, but guaranteed to have a couple of black eyes by this evening.” He announced. “You shall not be leaving your room until you have healed or found a way to cover those up.” Man was he bossy. He put his coat back on and leaned into the mirror to check his own face before tapping the floor with his microphone for your attention. His shadows enveloped the small room, and it was as if you were sitting on a void of nothingness, large symbols hovering around you in green. And just as quick as the dark arrived it disappeared with another few taps from his cane.

“Preventative measures darling, we cannot have anyone listening in on us.”

”Uhh…okay? Okay. Why?” Why are you so creepy?

”Creepy keeps the fear alive darling.” Well shit, that last bit was said out loud. Stupid concussion. “I think it is time to discuss the Radio, because you have proven to be a thorn in my side that I cannot simply be rid of with my usual methods.”

You nod along with each word slowly and focus on the last bit - the usual methods? “Do you mean eating people?” the statement escaped your loose lips, feeling drunk from the head injury .

His smile turned even more wicked if that was a possibility, eyes and teeth glowing like dim lamps. “Among other things…” He trailed off, closing his eyes and being sure to cock his head up in a very proud manner. He seemed pleased you had heard some of the more…graphic methods of dealing with other demons. His cool composure only lasted a moment. Once he opened his eyes, his mood was icy, eyes sharp and narrowed as he came a little closer without overwhelming your personal space and spoke bluntly, radio voice effect gone, “It appears as if you have linked our souls into an agreement that even I am unable to break.” He stared into your eyes, his fury palpable. You frowned in response out of both confusion and fear.

“What do you mean? I don’t even know who you are! I still don’t know who you are, how can we possibly be…like that…?” You ended lamely, hands wildly gesturing between the two of you. He had surely made a mistake, because this sort of thing just didn’t happen. Besides, you had only met him after death, so there was simply a misunderstanding. You shook your head in denial, causing blood to leak out of one nostril.

“A-hem” He said, getting your focus back on his face. His nose, same nostril, now had a slow trail of blood trickling out. He stood straight and a handkerchief appeared in his hand to dap his face while you grabbed some bathroom tissue off the roll beside you. It was hard to meet his eyes as it was obvious he was upset with you.

Attempting to end the silence, you spoke up. “Did you get hit as well? Your nose has been bleeding just as much as mine.” His eyebrows arched so high it was lost within his hairline, the stretched skin the only visual evidence of his reaction.

“No. I do not get hit.” He scoffed. “This is a result of the damage you incurred today my dear.”

Your lack of reaction, compounded with the cold molasses that was currently your brain, made him sigh and begin his explanation.

”The Radio was mine as a young man. It never worked quite right, so I was constantly repairing it. But this was before my Radio Show! So fixing instead of purchasing new was all I could do at the time. I would have kept it forever if I could, it was one of the only things my mother had given me on her own.” He had started picking under his middle finger with his thumbnail, trying to appear indifferent to his admission. You caught on to the way his voice softened when his mother was mentioned but you weren’t inviting death over tonight so you kept a straight face.

“Just before my career took off, I had been dabbling with some other gifts that came from my mothers side. Her ancestors were practitioners of creole magic, something that I am familiar with, but not proficient enough to use in my day to day.” Eyes back to you, he continued on. “The symbols in the radio were a deal I made with it, naively, early on in my practising. I was certain I would become a radio star, first of my kind, and well, sometimes we do questionable things while drinking.” He rolled his eyes at that, resulting in a smirk on your own face. “A friend and I had quite a night out! She knocked my radio over and the back panel came off. I cut myself on a stray piece of metal inside, cutting myself quite deep-“ He opened his palm with the scar to stare into it. “Beyond my better judgement I wrote, in my own blood, symbols I was not familiar with and apparently created unfinished magic that was only completed and sealed when your blood went over my runes.”

Still confused, you gave him a look that caused him to roll his eyes at you, as if you were the malicious force at play here and continued.

”What was a foolish act of an immature man at the end of a bottle of rye has now tethered our souls together. Akin to,” he shuddered, “Soulmates. However where fate might have chosen different paths for our souls, we have become united through dark magic powered behind the power I hold now, which is significantly stronger than when I wrote the symbols within the machine.” His smile was tight, still present as always, but certainly not the smile of a happy man.

But wait - “I don’t have any magic though, so why…?” You started, trying to steer the conversation away from the dreaded admission of the demon.

“Your being has little to no effect, my dear. The deal I was attempting to make with the Radio relied on magic supplied by me and me alone, as one cannot make a Radio respond to such a request.” One hand came up to his temple to put pressure on it, like you would do when you had a headache. “Foolish, foolish man.” He said, quickly and quietly, your ears picking it up as if he made no attempt to remain unheard. “And because the deal was made in blood, with the same instrument, on the same hand, even - I suspect that blood is our tether. Some link love or minds, so they can reciprocate feelings and thoughts to a person of their choice. And due to my being well, dead, the only thing we were able to link was our blood. In layman’s terms, darling - you bleed, I bleed. Your blood rushes to an impact, my blood rushes to an impact. You blush and, augh, etc. Do you understand?”

”Yes. But that honestly sounds ridiculous, and would be hard to believe if I didn’t die and land in hell a month ago. But I will admit, my knowledge of creole magic is absolutely zero, straight up nothing, so this was honestly just an unfortunate…mistake, that we can possibly undo?” You said with hesitancy at the end, but Alastor shook his head before you were even done speaking.

“I have looked into it extensively, and I am afraid it is not something we can separate - not even with Death. You die, I die. And I have far too much unfinished business to bow down to death just yet.”

“Oh, super duper!” You replied, chipper like Charlie. His face dropped at your tone, frowning down at you.

“No, not ‘super duper’, finger quotes around his snarky repetition, “Quite terrible for me actually. You have become my greatest liability. I am not worried I will get either of us in any kind of danger, but as we have both learned this evening, you are incapable of even walking on your own without getting into trouble.” His microphone now bracing both of his hands in front of his body.

Well excuse you for being a basic, simple individual without knowing everything about everything in the whole wide world, and also not knowing anything about the thing that Alastor told you not to talk about? This guy was an asshole on so many levels that you missed when he just left you alone.

”Well, I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me, because it was totally my plan for this to happen.” Giving him a deadpanned look that made him smile tighter out of…well, you didn’t really know. He wasn’t that easy to read when he wasn’t angry.

“That is quite enough funny business for today, I am afraid that your galavanting around Hell will stop immediately. You will stay within the confines of this hotel. You will stay in your room during the extermination-“

”This is bullshit! I am a free person to do whatever! You can’t control me like this-“ He was growing again, filling the small bathroom with his demonic figure.

“Foolish girl, I can do whatever I want with you!” He growled, tendrils coming up from the shadowed ground to wrap themselves around your calves and wrists, another wrapping itself in your hair to control your head, forcing you to look right into his demonic eyes.

“I have been kind, considering your unfortunate and pathetic self has been on my nerves since the moment you arrived. You are a senseless creature who-“ he choked on his words, pausing as his smile lowered. You were breathing much harder now, and suddenly it made sense why you were so unbothered by the BDSM club Angel brought the group to. This was turning you on, being helpless and controlled by such a force like Alastor. Still staring at each other face to face, you could see a blush start to spread like a brand across his cheeks. His breath began to match yours, and you shifted your ass that was still seated on the bathtub edge in a vain attempt to get comfortable. In record time you had become wet from the situation. You were turned on, girl, and he was feeling the same effects. Wherever the blood rushes was no lie.

You started to laugh at the situation, manically as you realised what had happened. He was still frozen in place, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He needed to teach you a lesson, to know who was in charge of this unwanted union but obviously this was doing nothing but cause your blood to rush to your cunt, because he felt a pressure almost unfamiliar to him below his navel. He was disgusted that you were causing this reaction from him, he was an elevated creature with no need for carnal pleasures. And now you were laughing at him.

The tendrils released from your person so quickly that the movement caused you to slide back into the tub, hitting the bottom of the tub with your ass, but catching the sides with your elbows to prevent your head from smacking backwards. Alastor had returned to his usual form, blush still visible on his cheeks but definitely going away as you yourself had woken from your horny stupor.

“I believe I have made my point. Perhaps I am being far too protective of you, we will have to discuss a proper method to exist in spite of our situation. I expect reasonable suggestions when we revisit the topic. For now I will leave you be, as your injuries have been attended to and have already begun the healing process. Does all of this sound reasonable to you?” Wow, how quickly the tables have turned, being turned on was obviously not something he had thought of dealing with, and it was easy to get you going. Certainly more so now that you had so much more peach fuzz on your skin as a deer hybrid - you were extra sensitive to any touch. Perhaps that was why Alastor disliked physical touch as well? Your smiling of this thought clearly made him wary of you at this moment. He repeated his last sentence again.

”Yes, Alastor, it sounds reasonable. We can talk about a game plan later, and I promise I will try to make it as easy as possible.”

He nodded at your answer and narrowed his eyes with a slight smile, “Good Girl.”

You felt the shocking return of arousal at those words and released a very small “oh!”, and he sank into his shadows immediately, leaving you alone in the bathtub bruised and turned on.

Well, turns out you had a praise kink too.

***********

First three parts is over 11K word wise. I can’t stop writing, I’m at 32k now, I just keep plugging away editing/writing/thinking. I’m so grateful for all the likes and comments.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #soulmates trope #alastorxreader #Alastor x ofc

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archangeldyke-all · 2 months

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Weird AU idea I had randomly:

What if reader and Sevika were like..co-stars on an adult romcom or romantic drama as the two leads? They spend a lot of time together on set and some of their scenes get a little heated (they ofc have a dedicated intimacy coordinator to help). And things just...lead to another off set.

What if Reader is the intimacy coordinator responsible for helping Sevika and her co-stars feel comfortable and they just....hit it off, off-set or after shooting ends. Everyone ofc remains professional on the job, but ya know...not unheard of for folks to start dating after working together 😏

LOVEEE

men and minors dni

seeing people in various states of nakedness is literally your job.

it's vital that you remain professional and responsible while you're working-- both on and off set. you need to be an advocate for healthy boundaries and responsible film-making, there's no space for you to be flustered or uncomfortable or god forbid, turned on.

and usually you're incredibly good at it.

whether it's men or women, whether you find them attractive or not-- you keep your cool and keep it responsible no matter what.

but this is sevika.

sevika, whose interviews you watch before bed-- just to hear the lovely timbre of her voice.

sevika, who has been your celebrity crush for years.

sevika, who's filming her first ever intimate scene, and has no idea how it works.

you find out who you're going to be working with a week before, and you spend the entire week in denial, confident that if you ignore it, you won't freak out about it.

but then you meet her.

she's even more attractive in real life, sleepy from the early morning call-time, hair a little messy and eyes a little droopy, make up free and cuddled up in a white robe. it's like seeing an angel.

the second you introduce yourself to her, closing the door to her trailer behind her, sevika drops her white robe and puts her hands on her hips. when you turn back around, you get an eyeful of a completely naked, completely unbothered sevika. you nearly pass out.

"uh." you say eloquently. sevika blinks at you.

"you're the intimacy coordinator right?" she asks. you gulp, ripping your eyes away from her body to stare at the ceiling.

"y-yes. you don't have to... i mean, you can put your robe back on." you say. "it's just-- we're just talking today." you choke out.

sevika snorts, laughing at herself as she pulls her robe back on. you try to catch your breath as she casually pulls the belt tight and flops onto the couch behind her.

so, it's a rocky start.

and no, you don't jerk off to the image of a naked sevika that's been burned into your frontal lobe when you get home.

that would be completely unprofessional.

(okay, yes you do. three times.)

sevika's charming and funny and down to earth in a way a lot of the celebrities you work with never are. she's got the prettiest smile you've ever seen, and she asks you about your life and listens to your answers, and your crush only gets worse and worse as the days tick by.

you and sevika spend several lunches going over her own personal boundaries.

she's filming a scene with a man, which makes her cringe and stick her tongue out as she says it. (you have to keep yourself from squealing at the confirmation of her very publicly debated lesbianism.) she's not totally uncomfortable with it-- it's her job-- but she 'would like to keep it pg-13' where she can.

she's comfortable with nudity-- she obviously knows how good she looks-- but you explain to her that in scenes beyond the full frontal, she'll be wearing some coverings just to keep everyone comfortable.

she's fascinated by your job, constantly lobbing you with questions.

'what other movies have you worked on?'

'do pornos have intimacy coordinators?'

and then, inevitably, 'who's the hottest celebrity you've ever seen naked?'

this makes you choke on your spit. sevika raises an eyebrow at you as you hack up a lung, and when you finally catch your breath she grins. "me?" she guesses. you just huff and flip her off.

it's amazing watching her act-- she's insanely talented. she's funny too, just naturally, off the top of her head, always spitting out improvised lines that make you and the entire crew laugh. she's also a huge fucking flirt.

she's respectful of all the boundaries you outlined for her on set. always covered unless she's filming, talking frequently with her co-star about the script, triple checking before they film that they both agree with the direction they're taking their sex scenes. but that doesn't stop her from trying to get a rise out of you.

she claims she has no idea how to work the nipple pasties-- insists you do it for her. you've done it for plenty of clients-- sometimes the adhesives or angles can be tricky-- but you know she's just doing it to get you to touch her tits. it's in the way she smirks each time she asks, the way her eyes sparkle as she watches you nervously, shakily press the tape to her flesh, trying to avoid touching her skin at all costs.

she's insisted on taking all her lunches with you once she finds out that you tend to eat alone in your car. she'll tag along with you in the passenger side of your car, teasing you and fiddling with your radio and ducking in her seat when you pass by herds of paparazzi, as you drive the two of you to taco bell. she always pays-- 'i'm the superstar, you're driving a camry-- no offense.'

and she's always touching you.

never inappropriately, never without your permission-- but she's always got her hands on you in some way.

playing with a strand of your hair as you check in with her between takes. wrapping an arm around your shoulders when the two of you walk to your car. fiddling with your fingers in the back of a bus as the two of you and a few crew members ride to a local bar for drinks. each time, you stutter and stumble over your words, biting your cheek and awkwardly avoiding her eyes as she grins at you. she knows what she's doing. she loves it.

you assume you're just a pillow fluffer of sorts for her. just someone for her to flirt with between scenes-- a place for her to put all the residual emotions that filming a rom-com requires. it's happened before-- occasionally clients will need a bit of intimacy outside of the shoot to keep their romantic mood going all day-- and you're happy to receive a few flirty compliments and lingering glances in order to keep your clients happy.

when filming wraps, you assume that you'll never see sevika again.

you say goodbye to her with a hug in her trailer, wishing her luck in her career and hoping that maybe you'll have the pleasure to work with her again in the future. when you pull away, sevika's looking at you with a furrow in her brow.

"what?" you ask.

sevika bites her lip, and for the first time since you've met, she looks... shy.

"nevermind. 's stupid." she says.

you scoff. "sevika, i custom dye thongs to match various skin tones for a living-- i'm used to stupid." you say. she huffs.

"do you... i mean-- how familiar are you with the dating policies on set?"

"uh... not super? i can put you in contact with debbie from HR if you--"

"no nevermind. it's dumb."

you laugh. "having a crush on someone isn't dumb. you should go for it! filming's wrapped, so i doubt there's any hoops you'd need to jump through."

sevika bites her cheek. "i don't know if she'd be into me." she whispers, still not looking at you. you bark a laugh, and sevika's eyes dart up to look at you.

"don't be ridiculous." you say. "you're a fucking a-list actress, i know you know how hot you are, she'd be a fucking idiot not to be!"

"but it's... it's kinda been her job for the past few months to flirt with me."

"what?" you ask.

sevika's co-star is a man-- and he should be the only person flirting with sevika on set.

"i dunno. she's gotta touch me and talk to me and make me comfortable all day-- i don't know if she'd be doing that if it wasn't her job."

"sevika, who's been touching you? nobody's supposed to touch you." you say, anger bubbling up in your stomach.

it's your job to protect her from this happening, and you're starting to panic as you think about all the ways you might've failed her.

sevika huffs a laugh, and you blink at her. "it's not funny, sev, it's serious-- your boundaries--"

"it's you." she says. you blink. "i... it's okay if you... i mean it's basically your job to, like, take care of me, so it's cool if you don't--"

"me?!" you ask, cutting her off. sevika shrugs. "a-are you fucking with me?" you ask. sevika blinks.

"no?" she guesses.

"so this isn't some kind of prank ran put you up to because i told them you've been my celebrity crush since your first movie?" you ask. sevika's worried expression melts, a smug, self-satisfied smile taking its place.

"no." she says again. you sigh.

"o-oh." you say.

"so..." sevika starts. "i know you're all about boundaries and consent and stuff-- do i have to ask before i kiss you or...?" she trails off. you giggle, a little giddy as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"yeah. you have to wear that thong and the pasties to bed with me too." you tease. sevika laughs.

"damn, that's horrible. i'm not gonna be able to do any of the things i wanted to--"

you cut her off with a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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darling-i-read-it · 10 months

Text

Right Family, Wrong Malfoy

Lucius Malfoy x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: toxic relationship !!!, age gap (legal ofc, reader is in her mid to late twenties), you dated draco and then lucius lol, insinuations to smut

Author’s Note: I DONT KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. i think i like it and i went a slightly spookier/intense route but idkkkkkk. I love writing for lucius though so this was a fun little twist

Requested: by @russian-soft-bitch, Hello love! I'm officially requesting that Lucius idea you had, I HAVE to read it 😤 Thank you and have a good day!

Summary: What started as a revenge plot against your ex boyfriend Draco ended up with you in Lucius Malfoy’s bed.

Song: Back to Black by Amy Winehouse

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Lucius wrapped his hand around yours. You were sleeping soundly beside him, breathing evenly. Your expression was peaceful. Serene. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen you at such peace. You were always stomping around Malfoy Manor with such umph that he would’ve thought you ran the place if he didn’t.

Your lips were parted ever so slightly. The same lips that had touched every part of him, the same lips that left marks on covered places, the same lips that whispered things to him that would never be said in the daylight. Your presence here was something he had never expected but something he granted with open arms.

Narcissa had left him in the dust years ago. She was to raise Draco. There was no need that Lucius put himself into affairs that had nothing to do with him. Truthfully, Lucius had no real interest in raising Draco any longer. It was a project that continued to fail him. He was too much like his mother.

Which meant he had Malfoy Manor to himself most of the time. The help walked around without making a sound. It was him in the large place and it was never lonely because now he had you.

“Lucius,” you whispered. He hadn’t noticed your eyes open. You squinted at him for a moment and then your expression turned into a doe’s. Wide gaze, looking at him like he had all the control in the world. “You’re starring.”

He raised his hand and brushed your face.

“I’m admiring,” he promised. His voice was gravely. It wasn’t even light outside yet. It was still dark outside, the moon the only thing illuminating the crevices of the room. You nuzzled your head into the silk pillow.

“Go to sleep,” you whispered. Your eyes shut again. He lost the doe look he had savored so dearly for a moment. He dragged his hand down your face to your chin, raising it. Your eyes opened again at the sudden movement. “Lucius…”

He dipped his head down and kissed you. It was a hungry kiss, something to be relished. There was nothing like an extremely early morning with a Malfoy. You would know better than most.

You gripped the back of his head, scrunching up his long white hair. You brought him to you so that you didn’t have to strain your neck kissing him. He was a much better kisser than his son. He was more attentive. He was cautious with his words, knowing the weight of them.

For all of those reasons it was easy to slip from the youngest Malfoy boy to the eldest. It was easy to forget all of Draco’s vein promises when you had new ones being made by someone who would keep them.

You opened your mouth, gasping at his cold touch. The icy night left the imprint of his hand on your cheek. He worshiped at your bare skin, making it a point to touch every inch of you as often as he could.

There were no thoughts of Draco as he kissed down your stomach, moving lower with each deliberate kiss.

There was a letter on the table. You opened it with a Malfoy letter opener. You knew that it was addressed to you before you even checked the name. Draco had always left you a special seal, one that dripped red as it dried. You wondered if he knew you were staying at the Manor or if your owl had brought it.

You tossed the envelope back onto the table and sat down on top of it. Your black dress flowed nicely onto the ground, just barely touching the hardwood. Lucius had gotten it for you.

Please answer my owls. I can’t speak to a wall any longer.

It felt like a waste of paper. You tossed it aside. Draco had been an awful boyfriend, one that you grew up beside and all you had known. You had never understood what love was actually supposed to look like because Draco had promised you that he knew.

He did not.

You were doomed to him from the second he stared at you in the Great Hall. Slytherins were naturally tethered to one another, based on their shared personalities and pride. Draco had chosen you far too young.

Now you were older. You had grown to be more mature. Draco hadn’t. He didn’t understand that it was truly as simple as that. Draco had hurt you. You recoiled. The relationship ended.

“Your son sent me another letter.” Lucius walked from the kitchen to the dining room. The walls were clad with portraits of the Malfoys going back decades. The most recent was of Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. It was slightly tilted, as though someone had tried to take it down.

“Are you going to answer it?” he asked, uninterested.

“No.” He kissed your forehead as he passed. You watched him go to the head of the table. Dinner would be served soon. He had invited you to stay, though you likely would’ve stayed without any invitation.

“Good girl,” he grumbled.

What had started as a revenge plot against Draco had started to become a domestic relationship. The secret was thrilling. The only people that saw you were the help, who were sworn to silence.

“I have to leave in the morning,” you said as you approached your seat. “Work is calling.”

“Work seems unnecessary,” he said curiously. “You could stay. I’ll give you an allowance.”

“I’m not your child. I can live my own life.” He leaned back in his seat. He had a hand wrapped around his staff as his eyes narrowed on you.

“Those statements have nothing to do with each other,” he observed. “Stay. Just a while longer. Live in his honeymoon, finally allow yourself to know what it’s like to be worshiped.” His words were alluring. “I have to go to Knockturn Alley tomorrow. You could come with me, get out of the manor if you insist on leaving.”

You half smiled. You had never assumed Lucius to be the type to come up with other options to spend time together. You were so used to Draco who had endlessly forced you to follow him along like a lost pet and lose you in the corners like you were a joke.

This whole thing was so cloudy.

“I have been meaning to stop by the apothecary.”

“It’s settled. You’ll come with me tomorrow.” He clicked his water glass with his fork. Someone brought food through the doors. You wondered what it was like to have so much power.

Knockturn Alley was permanently dark. At least, it seemed that way. The people rushing by never rose their faces and when they did they were indistinguishable. It was as though everyone had enchanted themselves to become mundane and unremarkable. Lucius had a hood over his head but made no attempt to hide his blonde hair. Your hood kept you shrouded, even as you walked closely beside him. He had a list of things he needed to get and you looked through the windows of the shops at things you had never studied before.

Stores selling human fingers were of interest to Lucius. He let you go inside first as he pursued. You had never been inside a place like it before. It felt like a forbidden realm, something that was locked off to you because you had no reason to enter it.

“Fingernails,” he muttered. “Do you see the fingernails dear?”

You looked around, trying to stifle the reaction you had to being called dear in public.

“Here,” you breathed. You raised your hand and he approached. “Aged,” you read from the small note card. “What do you use this for?”

“Severus sent me a potion he’d been testing. I wanted to try it.”

“What kind of potion?”

“An unnamed one,” he muttered. “Perhaps you could help me with it. Draco said you were rather good at potions.” You were reminded of the age difference suddenly but quickly brushed it aside.

“I was the best in my class. Snape seemed to like me,” you said proudly. It was a fact you took pride in. Snape didn’t like just anyone.

“I should’ve asked you to tutor Draco,” he muttered, grabbing what he needed off the shelf.

“I tried. He was often distracted.” Lucius’s hand brushed your side as he walked past you. Like father, like son.

You could feel prying eyes. You glanced around the dark shop that was illuminated only by floating candles. The shelves looked like people. You had to search to find anything actually moving. Your eyes landed on the sales clerk, another man who had been shrouded in a dark hood. You couldn't see his eyes but you could feel his gaze on you. You raised your chin, as though in defiance. Lucius didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed your hand and dragged you along to the next row of shelves.

You avoided eye contact when Lucius checked out.

You returned back to the Manor later that night. The sun was setting behind the peak of the house. It was like you were living your life shrouded in darkness nowadays and you couldn’t say you were complaining. It was slightly like you were constantly hidden from anything important. The door opened for Lucius. By the time it shut you couldn’t see who had been the culprit of moving it.

Living in the house with Lucius was vastly different than living in the house with Draco. Draco knew the best hiding places but Lucius didn’t need them. You felt the most in control as you ever had.

Lucius put down the bag of things onto the dining room counter as he walked into the room. Sitting in the chair at the other end of the room was a face you hadn’t expected to see, one that stopped you completely.

Toying in Draco’s hand was the letter you had discarded.

“You aren’t scheduled for a visit,” Lucius said. His voice was strong. There was no hint of weakness. You raised your chin to match his attitude.

“This is why you haven’t been answering my letters?” Draco questioned, staring at you as though his father wasn’t there. “You found a different Malfoy to follow around like a lost puppy?” He sat forward, accusatory.

“Draco,” Lucius snapped. You met the young Malfoy’s gaze with ice.

“I haven’t been answering your letters because I have no interest in speaking with you.” Draco set his jaw, chewing on his cheek. Lucius took a deep breath.

“This isn’t a ploy to make me jealous? To get me back?” he questioned but it felt more like he was stating a fact.

“Why would I want you back?” you asked him. “Why would I beg for your forgiveness and your kindness when I know I can get it from someone I like far more?”

“My father?”

“Yes Draco.” Draco stood up. He put his palms down on the table, leaning forward. He shook his head, a signature scowl on his face.

“Were you plotting to steal the Malfoy money through different means because I tossed you aside like a piece of trash?”

“I wanted someone who would treat me like a woman and not like a charm to accompany his pride,” you seethed.

“This is ridiculous. There’s no way you’re entertaining this father,” Draco said, his eyes now set on the older Malfoy. Your eyes followed his as well. Lucius had taken off his cloak and set it on a chair. He was acting completely unbothered by the conversation.

“Draco, you’ve always been too much like your mother.” Lucius raised his chin. He eyed his son, knowing he would cower under the gaze. “If you intend on being a pest, I’ll have you escorted out of the manor.”

“Father.”

“You were a stupendous failure Draco,” Lucius said lowly. “You took something great and you botched it with continuous frustrations. There is no need to take out those frustrations on someone who salvaged the situation or the woman.” Draco’s jaw set. “Go back to your mother. Maybe she’ll teach you some manners.”

Draco choked on whatever words he intended to say. He took the letter he had written to you and ripped it in half. He left it on the table, dramatically. He gave you a lingering angry look before walking past the both of you out the room. The manor was so large that he could return to his room and neither you nor Lucius would ever know.

The tension in the room defused.

“I’ll put away the things we got,” you said, grabbing the bag from him. You took a jar with you into the kitchen. He followed you.

“Your son is impossible,” you muttered. There were no feelings resurfaced at seeing Draco again. You wondered how long you had been over that relationship, if it had been longer than you even remembered.

“His mothers fault.” Lucius raised his hand and brushed your hair off your shoulder and onto your back. He leaned forward and kissed your neck. You let out a soft sigh.

“You’re distracting me from the task at hand.”

“My fault,” he muttered against your skin.

“You have no reserves?” you asked. You turned around to look at him. He had his hands on your sides in an instant. “Your son's ex-girlfriend in your bed every night?”

“Do you have reserves?” he questioned. You weren’t sure why you were even asking the question. Lucius had done some morally challenging things in his life. There was no way this was a concern of his. You found that realization quite freeing.

“No,” you said finally. You meant it. He nodded once, proud of himself. He traced your jaw with his finger.

“Then I don’t see any issues.” You glanced at the door Draco had left. You knew he was likely still in the manor. You kissed Lucius like it was the last thing you would ever do. You didn't care if this was a relationship that would fizzle out, all you knew in the moment was that you wanted to kiss him. You devoured his lips, holding his head so he was as close as you could get him.

Everything else felt like an afterthought to him. It occurred to you that in the past you had had the right family, but the wrong Malfoy. He hoisted you onto the counter, pushing aside everything you had gotten from Knockturn.

#lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy x fem!reader #lucius malfoy imagines #lucius malfoy fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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mandomaterial · 10 months

Note

I LOVE your Miguel x Reader fic so much! Can we please get another Miguel x Reader where they are complete opposites again, but she isn't use to seeing a scary/violent Miguel. So when she finally sees him like that she gets a little scared and Miguel has to reassure his little angel that he would never behave this way with her. Fluff please because i love your fluff fics!

OFC BBY! I changed it a little so that reader didn’t only see it but also experience it, yk? U’ll see :3 I hope you like it pookie!

Miguel scaring and accidentally hurting you

Like this? Check out my Masterlist

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were on your way to visit your boyfriend of a few months at work, with a little Tupperware box of fresh cookies in hand, you knew that he was Spider-Man and you knew all about the spider-verse. You also knew that Miguel worked very hard to keep the society intact and that it put an immense strain on his mood and health.

He’d come home all grumpy and annoyed, just wanting to cuddle you to death, he wouldn’t even let you get up to make him some food or treats, so today you decided to bring him something to cheer him up. You’d made a variety of cookies, some frosted and others shaped like animals and stars, to some people it might seem like something from a kids birthday party where a trottle ran off with the sprinkles and went crazy with them but it was just how you liked to bake. You knew that some people thought you were weird for dressing in bright colours and having fun hairstyles, sometimes older people would whisper when you walked past them but you didn’t mind, to you the worst possible thing would be being called normal or plain. You didn’t let anyone stop you from buying or making the clothes you thought were cute and today you decided to show off the new skirt you made. You spent all of last week sitting at your desk with your sticker covered sewing machine, securing the fabric and hemming the edges.

It was truly adorable and you loved how it framed your butt and thighs! You matched it with the off white cashmere sweater that Miguel gifted you after only two moths of dating. He knew that you liked cute things so he had little bows added to the sleeves and it warmed your heart every time you thought of his attentiveness. You packed the cookies into a little shoulder bag and set off.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the main office and there you almost crashed into Jessica who you always enjoyed having a little chat with, you always asked how her baby was and if everything was going as planned at HQ, but today she decided to give you a little warning, Miguel had been a little agitated and stressed today, because Gwen got stuck in a mess and brought back a Teenage boy who was never supposed to know about the Spider-verse and how said boy was causing a bit of trouble. You thought nothing much of it and continued looking for him.

Your first stop was his main office, to be honest it looked like the bat cave, with a floating platform that was his favourite. It always made you giggle when you compared Miguel to batman, but he wasn’t there, so you decided to just walk around and see if you’d find him, when you suddenly heard a loud bang. Instinctively you whipped around, running to a large window and what you saw shook you to your core.

It was thousands of spider people chasing after what seemed to be a small figure in a black suit, it was a sight that you’d never seen before, was everything alright? Was that an anomaly? Why were so many chasing it? Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you sprinted down the stairs to the ground floor to get a better look, but everything was moving so fast that you lost sight of them as that disappeared behind another building.

You rushed through the halls, trying to catch up with them and somehow you ended up in the room with the go-home machine, all while everyone was surrounding Miguel and the young boy who was in the midst of being “sent home” and Miguel had his talons dug into the electric walls of the capsule, almost tearing it apart while growling and yelling. You’d never seen him like this, as if he were a feral creature hunting its prey with cruel intent. Your body started shaking a little as you took a small step back, maybe this was a really bad time. In that moment the capsule fully closed itself, sending the teen home and leaving Miguel seething with rage, ready to demolish anything he got his hands on, when he suddenly noticed his wach showing signs of an anomaly or something that wasn’t supposed to be at headquarters standing only a couple meters behind him.

Without a second thought and with pure rage and will for distraction Miguel lunges backward, his vision blurry with fury as he sunk his claws into the floor, propelling himself closer and closer to his new victim. All the while you didn’t even have time to think, fear filled every fiber of your already tensed body, he made the decision in split-seconds, not even realizing that it was you, his partner, as he rushed closer to you. You started stumbling back, screaming his name, but nothing helped clear his mind. Miguel stretched out his right arm, talons out as far as they could go, ready to tear you to shreds.

His usually gentle fingers wrapped themselves tightly around your neck, nicking you and squeezing tight, you felt him almost crush your throat but that wasn’t the end of it. Miguel flexed his arm, lifting you up into the air and just as he was about slam you down with all his force, he had a moment of clarity, his heat almost stopped as he recognized your face, albeit it was contorted in ear and pain. He noticed how tight his grip on your neck was and how you were scratching at his hand for a single breath, as he cut off your air way. His eyes widernd, fear and regret washing over him. Instead of glamming you to the ground, he quickly let go of your neck and pressed you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his suit and he heard you cries. Your cries were pain filled and your voice hoarse as he tried to comfort you by rocking you back and forth gently. He knew that it was his fault. What had he done? What if you never wanted to see him again?

He did something he swore to never let happen. He hurt you. He made you fear him. Miguel commanded everyone to leave, so that the two of you could calm down and as soon as it was only the two of you, he collapsed to his knees. It was like your tears were never ending and your fingers weakly grabbed onto him, barely able to hold on as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry…” Miguel whispered, his voice cracking as he continued muttering “I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.. I didn’t mean t-to…” he whimpered, but it was like you didn’t hear it, way too caught up in the scenario that played out just minutes ago. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you were hyperventilating, not being able to calm your breathing. Minutes passed and Miguel was still rocking back and forth, as if comforting a crying child, the horrid scenes kept replaying in his mind and he didn’t know how to make it better.

Your cries slowly turned to whines and hiccups, you moved around in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position when he gently lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, he opened his mouth but said nothing for a few seconds until he finally whimpered “I love you, you know that, right?” He pulled you into a close hug, not even waiting for your response, he squeezed you as close to him as he could, his anger long gone. “P-please don’t leave me…” he continued, he sounded utterly broken and that only made you shed more tears, you didn’t want to be sad, you didn’t want him to be sad, this was just a stupid accident right? He didn’t mean it…

You nodded a little and tried to speak, but nothing audible came out, only whimpers and whines. Miguel pulled the two of you apart, gently placing his large hand onto the crown of your head, carefully lacing his fingers between your hair as he looked at your little form that was dwarfed by his own. “It was and accident… please forgive me…” he muttered as his eyebrows scrunched together in regret. You replied with a little nod, your lower lip still wobbling a little. Miguel caressed your hair a bit before moving lower to your neck, he pushed your hair back and revealed a couple red scratches going almost all the way around. He felt so ashamed that he’d hurt you, that he was the cause of your pain. Ge gently brushed his fingers over them and you let oust a little wince. He’d take you to the med bay right after this, he promised.

Only then did he notice what you were wearing, first he looked at the sweater. It was the one he had custom made for you, when he saw it in the store window he thought about how’d you look like a fluffy baby alpaca in it and he just had to get it for you. He touched the soft fabrics and slid his grand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with your slender ones. Next he noticed the skirt, ha hadn’t seen it in your closet or anywhere else?. Did you buy it? No it fits too well for that… you probably made it. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile cross his face. The room was almost silent so he tries to shift your attention to a different topic “Did you make this?” He gently rubbed the b fabric between two of his fingers.

You looked around quite confused for a moment until you found what he was talking about, you rubbed your eyes a little and gave him another nod “y-yea, i finished yesterday.” Your voice was barely audible and littered with hiccups.

“It’s cute” he replied, placing his hands on your hips and shifting your body so that you were sitting sideways on his lap with your head leaning on his pec. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled closer, almost purring. You liked sitting like this, on his lap and utterly surrounded by him, it made you feel small and soft, like a precious delicate possession of his.

You could feel how worried he was, it washed off him like waves and you wanted to make him feel better, so you cupped his jaw and whispered “I’m okay Miguel, you didn’t hurt me” as soon as he heard, you could almost physically hear the stones dropping from his heart and his spirit lifting. The two of you were definitely feeling better but there was still a bit left to talk about, so Miguel decided that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet but kept you in his arms, you rolled over a little and decided to play with his hair as he walked out of the now silent room. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the little short curls at the back of his neck, it was one of your favourite parts of his hair because it was so much more curly than the longer pieces.

Miguel felt your little fingers and could stop the lopsided smile that formed on his face, sure he still had work to do, but to be honest, for once in his life, he didn’t care. He’d do it tomorrow and surely get an ear full from Jessica.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Once Miguel stepped through the doorway a long sigh left his chapped lips, he still felt quite bad about what happened today, but he knew that you’d forgiven him and that you weren’t upset. You fell asleep in the car, so he decided to be the good boyfriend he was and carry you up to his penthouse. You often slept over at his place because you liked the big windows and loved his comfy king sized bed. Normally you fell asleep earlier than him and once he got to bed, he’d find you in your cute pink jammies, laying starfish with one of your legs over the blanket and the pillows long thrown off the sides. He couldn’t help but snap a little picture, you were just too adorable.

So now he careful layer you down on the side you preferred to sleep on. He took off your socks and reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra and pull it off you so you wouldn’t wake up in pain, before covering you with his blanket. Once you were tucked in, he strode over to one of his cupboards in the bathroom and pulled out one of the first aid kits (he has multiple stocked) and pulled out a salve. He rummaged around further until he found your favourite bandaids, the ones with the cute shapes on them and walked back to his bedroom.

You were sleeping soundly as he sat down right next to you, careful not to dip the mattress too much, he gently stroked your hair back so that he could tend to the little wounds on your neck. Guilt shot through him again once they were revealed, t be honest they weren’t even that bad, but he knew how sensitive to violence you were and he knew that the scare was probably worse than the pain. Nevertheless he dipped his fingers in the salve and started softly rubbing it over the red marks and covered them with the bandaids after. After a few minutes he was satisfied and snuggled up to you, making you the little spoon, he wrapped his arms around your wast to pull you close. And just like that, all cuddled up, the two of you fell asleep, meeting again in your dreams.

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gojofavho3 · 6 months

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Hi there i have a little Gojo req in mind; Gojo x male reader but reader is like,, taller than him, bigger yk? maybe a bit buffer, arms big enough to throw Gojo over his shoulder hehe. Maybe Gojo is infatuated by the idea of climbing on top of Reader and absolutely WRECKING himself on him 😍 alright okay that got out of hand i hope thats okay but ofc if not i understand and you can just ignore this req, but if you DO do the fic then i am FOREVER IN YOUR DEBT 🙏🏼

Heyyyyy, thanks for the request!!! Sorry to keep you waiting, I had a math test, so I had to put all my focus on that, and that shit was so easy mann

A/n: It probably won't be long, trying to discover other types of writing tbh, because my writing in English is not as good as my Portuguese yk? And dyslexic also doesn't help a lot

There aren't many people who are taller than gojo, At least that he knows personally

gojo is 1.90 centimeters tall, any taller than that you will have to bend down at doors

When you two started dating, he was the happiest man alive, there's is not much people close to him that live so long so, he tries his hardest to protect you and make u become more and more happy every day of your relationship

He just loves you too much

He lets you do anything with him, first time you put him in your shoulders he was surprised. he didn't know what to say or what to do, he was blushing so bad that even a rose couldn't be that red, he was caught off guard not using infinity. Eventually, he got used to and sometimes he doesn't use infinity so you can grab him and put him in your shoulders

He also loves the warmth of your body, especially when it comes to cuddling, he won't leave you alone, not even for one second. You being bigger then him and probably with a bigger chest, he will put his cheek on your chest and rub his cheek against your chest, very close to your nipples, all his problems in the world almost fade away in that state

And thats one of the reasons you have the so called the "strongest" on your dick rn!

" Satoru gojo desperate for a dick so bad. who would imagine?

The so "strongest!"... strongest hoe that's for sure "

The white hair has his cheeks red, red and red, he was on top of you, some of his sweat going to your stomach and pre cum too

In this angle the white moon made him look glorious, the shadow makes his blue eyes glowing like the stars.

It was a dark night, and a cold one too! With autumn the winds start to get stronger and stronger

And what's more warm to made two body's sweat than sex?

"c-can't you he-help me a little ah-awh!"

" nopee! You tied my hands, your the one who wanted so bad to do it alone "

Your hand points to your hands, tied up to the bed by Satoru with one of his blindfolds

He pouts, but continues to go up and down on your fat cook

Every time he goes down he lets out a moan and whimpers, closing his eyes shut tight with his head looking up

Up Up Up Up Up

Down Down Down down down

He goes down and sucks your nipples until it becomes red and purple, he loves hearing you whimpering and creaming, he could feel you getting more close in the seconds

Sometimes he letted it leave his hole put he slip it back again, with the most care in the world

He stopped sucking it and goes to your face, giving you a honest smile, with his eyes close, and then giving you silly kisses that he knew you loved

Satoru could feel your cheeks being heated as he played with them, like a granny, making you made silly faces too.

"why are you making my face look silly in the middle of fucking?"

"b-because..."

"because..?"

"because I cann! W-Why~~? Wanted me to slap them?? Agwh!.."

"no sir!"

You says Ironically as he stops after a while and continues to bounce on your dick

His ass cheeks slapping with your lower part, making the clap sound over and over

You could feel he was cumming, you could feel how tight his hole was becoming and the sounds he was madding becoming more loud

" c-ca-can I I cum.. mhm! "

" n-no need to ask, jus come, I'm also close..."

You say already feeling your cum starting to leave your cook

Up Up Up Up Up Up upupuupupupup-

Downdowndowndowndowndowndown-

Splash!

White

Everywhere

You two were heavily breathing, with white splashed on your stomach and the covers

He falls in your chest, cum dripping down on his hole going to your cook and traveling to the covers

His hair is all messed up like yours

He kisses you, a kiss really heated out, until you two become with almost no air, painted out

" d-did... did you g-get warm...? "

Satoru nods as he can't talk yet

" good.. "

You say finally taking your hands of his blindfold, going immediately to his ass, slapping with all your strength, making his ass red as fuckkk, letting it jiggle, yes, he has some cake there

He whines and lets out a loud moan that even your neighbours could hear

He had a confused and hot look on his face as he puts his hand in his hair wires, messing it more

"w-why..??"

" to get you ready for round 2

It's good that you warm but! This shit ain't over love!! "

Hope u like it! And now your in debt with me 😈

Kidding

This was funny to write

I don't understand people who say the moon is yellow, like the only colour I see is white there

And for knowledge, I'm not colour blind, I think

And now, I'll farm for sampo, my big titties man 😋💖

See you, till next time!

@heart-lovees

#jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jjk #gojo satoru x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut

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remediesremedy · 7 months

Note

Hello Hello!

so I've been reading your work and I'm obsessed🤩 Could I request foolish reacting to his s/o being a really quiet and shy person but like a total freak in the sheets???(like choking kink, spit kink, stuff like that) If not that's totally okay!

TYSM<3333

anon you sound so sweet!! ofc i wanna bring your idea to life, and you’re earning some major brownie points by telling me you’re OBSESSED? with my work? i’m smiling rn!! that’s such an appreciated compliment. anyway, enough from me, let’s get into the good stuff :)

ENAMOURED BY FILTH

foolish x gn reader

warnings: pure filth, spit kink, rough, choking, biting, breeding

foolish having a typically shy partner who is a freak in the sheets is so funny to me.

they come onto stream often, sitting content in the background, sometimes quietly humming when foolish speaks to them, and smiling at chat when they say something funny.

their words are soft, so delicate and smooth that even foolish immediately quietens down when he senses they’re about to speak.

the relationship had been pretty slow, the furthest they had gotten was clothed grinding, and that got cut short when foolish got a phone call, relating to a sponsor for his next stream. He wasn’t too thrilled to answer a call with his hard cock straining in his boxers, tip leaking precum and begging for some attention, but he cleared his throat and moved his sight away from his partner’s needy face.

that instance had left foolish absolutely flushed and eager for more, but he didn’t go past kissing. He refused to move at a pace that was too fast for his partner, but his partner was convinced that foolish was the one needing to take it slow.

one night, after a long stream, foolish is exhausted and stumbles into their shared room when he spots his partner bare. They’re stood next to the bed with a towel draping over their thighs as they carefully dry the water on their skin. Foolish’s mouth felt like parchment, and the only thing that would satiate the dryness would be his lover’s attention. With a cough he announced himself and his partner turned around bashfully, and then laughed quietly.

“oh c’mon you’re blushing like a virgin.” they teased, shimmying the towel over their most private areas, “it’s okay, im covered now.” their eyes softened, reaching a hand out to grasp his, “we’ll move at your pace okay?”

Foolish couldn’t contain his disbelief, “my pace? i- i thought you were the one who wanted to take it slow?”

“me?” and with a sultry smile, it was the beginning of their heart racing endeavours.

•their first time being so gentle, foolish’s skin is on fire as his lips capture his lover’s, his heart hammers as his partner reaches up and tugs on his raven hair, the gasp he lets out is delicious. When he aligns his aching cock with their entrance, and slips into their warmth, he swears he sees stars. His high approaches quicker than he would like, and he can’t control the utter filth that leaves his lips as they moan out delightfully, “fuck, you wanna be good for me?”. Foolish wants nothing more than to be perfect for his partner, “yes, yes, what is it?”

“spit in my mouth.”

foolish cums, white blinding his vision as his seed coats his partner’s warm walls. Breathlessly, he collects saliva in his mouth and spits, it lands perfectly on the centre of their tongue, and he can’t help but to keep bucking his hips. He watched in awe as they swallow it in bliss, he ruts into them, until his poor cock is aching and his balls are empty.

They are both satiated, they’re filled with cum, with loving marks all over their skin. and foolish is spent, legs twitching and coursing with electricity.

#qsmp foolish #x reader #imagines #lgbtq #fluff #anons are open #anons open #foolish smut #mcyt foolish #foolish x reader #foolish gamers #foolish dsmp #mcyt #dsmp smut #qsmp smut

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just-jordie-things · 11 months

Text

[intro] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting. series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist ___

(y/n’s) cursed technique: [Hexing Eye]

Once she is in close quarters, she’s able to place a hex on her opponent, by conjuring her cursed energy and touching them. Thus rendering her able to teleport herself to them- or rather, her hex.

This gives her the ability to move about a larger territory with ease.

She currently hopes to place a hex without touching someone, in order to warp without the extra step. She hasn’t been able to master this ability yet.

[ introduction ] : "Find The Star Plasma Vessel" ___

[shoko<3]: this mission sounds more serious than the last few you guys have been sent on. you’ll be safe?

[(y/n)]: ofc i will be <3

[(y/n)]: besides, i can do this on my own, i don’t have to deal with those idiots this time.

[shoko<3]: that’s why i’m worried.

[(y/n)]: you think i can’t protect myself?

[shoko<3]: i know you can protect yourself.

[shoko<3]: but i don’t like the idea of you being alone out there.

(y/n) chuckled, sending back another sarcastic remark to her over-worried friend. She was starting to sound like a certain white haired sorcerer that she would just hate to be compared to. But she worked herself up over nothing. (y/n) was more than capable at carrying this assignment on her own.

Tucking her phone back into her pocket, she returned her attention to the task at hand.

Being perched at the top of the building across from where her target was made it easy to scope the ground below for anyone trying to get in the way of her plan.

The Curse User Group Q was nowhere to be seen, unless they finally ditched their ridiculous costumes. This was a relief, as they posed more of a threat than the other group Yaga had warned her about in his debriefing. A religious cult of some sort that worshiped Tengen as their god. (y/n) assumed even if she did cross paths with them, it wouldn’t have even been a fight. They were non-curse users after all, so what threat could they have possibly posed?

Standing, she double checked that her blades were sheathed properly on both hips, and once certain they were secure, did a quick round of stretches. Using her cursed technique to teleport into the building across the street wasn’t a simple feat, and she was still new to the method. But this was bound to be the most difficult task in her mission, so her confidence in completing it didn’t waver for a second.

After her muscles are loose and relaxed, ready for the travel ahead, she steps up to the ledge of the building, and closes her eyes.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

She tunes out any background noise in the city below, cars honking, loud laughter or chatter that bounced off the surrounding buildings and echoed towards her. The first task was clearing her mind of any distractions, no matter how minor. Even a chirping bird passing by could throw her off and be a danger.

Alright, Riko Amanai, where are you?

Clasping her hands together, folding her fingers delicately between one another, she brings her index fingers to her forehead, trying to better conduct her cursed energy, she keeps her mind clear of all but one thing.

Find the Star Plasma Vessel.

It takes a moment, as she does her best to ignore the gentle wind whispering against her ear, and focuses every ounce of her energy on her technique.

She was far from mastering Hexing Eye, but there wasn’t a chance of her getting into the building to retrieve the girl without breaking in, and her technique was the quickest way in without causing a scene.

Her eyelashes twitch. She pinches her eyes shut tighter.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Find the Star Plasma Vessel.

___

Meanwhile, a pair of Special Grade sorcerers are strolling casually towards the location Yaga had given them.

“Why didn’t he send (y/n) with us?” The white haired boy grumbles. “Would have been more fun than partnering with your rude ass. Again”

His partner chuckles, and shakes his head, not taking the insult to heart. He knew Satoru was just being whiny as usual.

“Maybe he sent her off to something else,” Suguru suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. “She wasn’t back at the school”

Gojo’s brow furrows, puzzled at where she could be if she wasn’t at Jujutsu Tech. It wasn’t like her to be sent on a mission without saying anything about it to them, but he doesn’t voice his concern to his friend, not in the mood to be teased for thinking too much about it.

“Don’t worry about it. She can handle herself” Suguru says, as though reading his mind.

“Not worried” Satoru grumbles under his breath.

Yeah, right, Suguru thinks, but doesn’t tease him for it. Now wasn’t the time to distract him with silly remarks on his silly crush.

He would find the time to bring it up later, once the assignment was complete.

“Suguru,” Gojo speaks up again, his tone heavier than before. “We should talk about this kid”

Curiously, his friend raises a brow.

“What about this kid?”

“They’re just a kid,” Satoru says. His sunglasses cover his eyes, but Suguru can tell that he’s gazing off somewhere else, deep in his thoughts. “If they don’t want to be Tengen’s next vessel…”

“Are you suggesting we harbor them?” Suguru asks, amused at the idea. More so amused that such an idea came from Satoru. “The elders will have us killed for treason, you know”

Despite the grave consequence on his mind, Suguru shrugs a casual shoulder, still pondering the idea over.

“We’re stronger,” Satoru replies, finally turning to look at his best friend.

Suguru doesn’t say anything, but the smile on his lips tells Satoru that they had a deal.

“Whatever the kid wants” The white haired sorcerer says decidedly.

The pair were suddenly jolted from their separate thoughts, the sound of an explosion jarring them both and taking all of their attention. To their dismay, they turned to see smoke seeping out of the window of the building their target was supposedly residing.

They cursed, and in a blink had jumped into action.

____

The roar of the explosion instantly removed (y/n’s) focus on her cursed technique, and her wide eyes watched as smoke plumes poured into the air from the window she was just about to teleport through.

Oh no.

In a moment of pure adrenaline, she unsheathed one of her blades, and leapt from the building she was stationed at. Luckily any civilians who would have gawked at a young girl falling from such a height were too busy screaming and pointing at the apartment that had just erupted into flames.

The thrill of the fall lasted until she was about halfway to the ground. Gripping her blade in a tighter fist, she shoves it deep into the foundation of the building beside her, slowing her descent to a safer speed.

Her feet hit the ground soon enough, and she’s ripping her sword from the cement and breaking into a sprint across the street. If anyone shows any shock at seeing a woman with a weapon on hand racing towards the commotion, she doesn’t notice. Her only thoughts are on completing the mission.

“I don’t want to add any more pressure on your shoulders than you’re already carrying,” Yaga had said, before leaning forward over his desk. “But this mission is dire. I am only sending you as backup because of it’s importance”

“I understand” (y/n) bows her head before her teacher.

“I want this to be a milestone for you. A learning curve, I suppose,” He continues. “Gojo and Geto will be there, they’ve been tasked with the same assignment, but I have not told them that you will also be after the same goal,”

(y/n) lifts her head, brows furrowed in question. Her teacher answers before she could ask.

“I want you to work on developing your technique,” He explains. “And I want you to accomplish this out in the field. While you’ve made great strides in your training, there remains a great amount of untapped potential inside of you. I think this mission could be just the push you need to unlock the full extent of your abilities”

Her heart races in her chest at the thoughtfulness of her teacher. She admired Yaga greatly, so hearing such confidence he had in her made her own confidence strengthen.

“I’ll do my best, Yaga” She nods curtly.

“Now, I should warn you, there will be others searching for the girl,” Yaga folded his hands on his desktop as he continued with his debriefing of the assignment. “The Curse User Group Q are bound to make an appearance. For decades they’ve been trying to end Tengen’s cycle so he loses all sense of humanity as time goes on. The Star Religious Group may also pose a threat, but I would worry more about outside factors”

“Outside factors?” (y/n) repeats curiously.

“There are many enemies to our way of life,” Yaga speaks in a gravely low tone. “Even those who live in it”

Other members of the Jujutsu Society? (y/n’s) throat feels dry at the thought, but just as quickly, her heart begins to pound excitedly at the notion of taking on such an important assignment.

“I understand,” She states. “What else do I need to know?”

Before she can break down the door of the building, her heels skid to a stop. Suddenly, there was a large shadow cast over her, darkening a suspiciously large portion of the ground. She notices that the civilians around her don’t react to the shadow before she even looks into the sky, seeing a familiar sorcerer floating through the air on his shikigami.

And there was a girl in his arms.

“Tch!” (y/n) scoffs, her brows furrowing in annoyance as she sheaths her sword. Of course Suguru got to her first.

Despite her frustration, she follows after the shadow with quick feet, zigzagging through the crowd of people who had gathered to gawk at the explosion.

Yaga had put his faith in her for this assignment.

Her thoughts are bitter as she takes off in a faster sprint to keep up with the fast-flying shikigami a few hundred feet above her.

And she hadn’t even put her cursed technique to the test.

Her eyes darted up into the sky, hoping to gauge if the Star Plasma Vessel had been hurt in the damage.

All she’d really done was some simple recon. This was going to be an embarrassment to her record.

Geto and the girl were too high for her to gauge her well-being, but (y/n) assumed she must still be alive if he was flying away at such a speed. He must be taking her to a safe location. She feels some relief at least that the mission wasn’t a total failure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of something else suspended in the air, just outside of the smoking window.

Fuck.

No matter how fast she ran, she wasn’t going to outrun the man that could literally teleport himself down to her as soon as he saw her racing in the opposite direction of every other person around her.

“(y/n)!”

He was before her in a flash, and she nearly tripped to the ground from his sudden appearance.

“Don’t do that!” She barked. “I could have run straight into you!”

She was more annoyed with his ability to easily teleport himself wherever he so pleased. Showing off was always his style, but today it got under her skin more than ever.

Gojo just laughs at her.

“Well then I could have caught you in my arms and we could have run away together!” He declares.

(y/n) rolls her eyes.

“You’re slowing me down” She spits back at him, before pushing past him and pushing her legs to go even faster to make up for the lost distance between her and Geto’s shikigami.

To her surprise, Gojo doesn’t teleport away. He runs after her, catching up in just a few strides.

“What’re you doing here anyway?” He hollers as he reaches her.

(y/n) doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even look at him. Unlike him, she was focused on this assignment, and didn’t care to explain herself.

He doesn’t push her to answer him, knowing that they were both working towards the same cause. But his mind does become occupied with trying to figure out why she was here.

Had Yaga sent her?

Had she overheard the assignment and come to scope it out for herself?

Was she paid by an outside party?

He shoots a quick glance in her direction. She had her swords with her, but she was in street clothing, which confused Satoru the most of all. (y/n) always wore her uniform when on an assignment, and it wasn’t like her to break the rules.

Besides, she was in jeans and a tightly-fitted black tee shirt. It couldn’t have been any more comfortable to complete the task in such attire.

It truly was a mystery to him.

“You know if you asked me nicely, I’d teleport us up there,” He says, finally earning a glance his way from her. “But only if you ask nicely”

“I’m not owing you any favors!” (y/n) bites back. “Not after last time!”

She stops suddenly in her tracks, her mind mapping out the city before her faster than Satoru could figure out why she stopped. In a mere seven seconds, she was turning the other direction and taking off at full speed.

“Where the hell are you going!?” The white haired sorcerer called, not bothering to follow her this time. Not if she was going to run off in the wrong way.

“Shortcut!” (y/n) called, throwing a grin his way over her shoulder, before she faced forward again and pumped her legs faster.

She didn’t need to be distracted by Gojo Satoru and his perfected abilities for a second longer. The jealousy coursing through her was enough to kick her adrenaline up a notch.

Running throughout the streets of Tokyo was going to be just the workout she needed today. ___

It had been days since getting the Plasma Star Vessel to safety, and Gojo hadn’t seen or heard from (y/n) since. The bounty on her head had finally lifted, but this girl still proved to be a real pain in the ass, so it would have been nice to have an extra set of eyes so Gojo could take a damn break already.

Shoko had texted him (y/n) had only briefly gone back to the school, just yesterday, but she was certain that she hadn’t spent even a moment’s rest there. The thought troubled him. If she wasn’t here protecting Riko, and she wasn’t at the school, where had she spent the last few days?

He didn’t realize that agreeing to this mission meant signing up to play babysitter.

While Riko demanded to be taken to her school one last time, Satoru pulled his phone out, and took a step back to try to discreetly send a text.

Geto notices.

[satoru]: shoko’s worried. if you don’t tell her what you’re up to soon, she’s going to come for my neck and then yours.

It wasn’t a total lie. Shoko had left a threatening message in his voicemail about making (y/n) a priority in the midst of this assignment. She made quite a few remarks about how if she wasn’t returned to the safety of the school tonight, she’d come for all three of them- Gojo, Geto, and (y/n)- herself.

Shoko Ieiri may not have the Limitless technique, but she was a force to be reckoned with. Especially when it came to her best friend.

Satoru hopes that (y/n) would respond right away, but she doesn’t. He can’t spend too much time on his phone, so with a sigh he tucks it back into his pocket and turns back to Riko and Suguru.

His friend gives him a knowing look.

“What?” Satoru hisses back at him.

“Nothing,” Suguru replies, but the tone of his voice implies that he’s going to tell him his thoughts anyways. “It’s just interesting how you can’t go five minutes without wondering where she is and what she’s doing”

Riko’s eyes darted back and forth between the odd pair, curious as to what they were talking about.

“That’s not true!” Satoru snaps back. “Shoko keeps spammin’ me. It’s distracting”

“That so?” Suguru replies calmly. “You’ve been like this all day. She’s fine. She probably went back to the school”

“Why hasn’t she been there to begin with?” He questions. “Why didn’t she just come with us if she was on the same assignment?” Satoru adds. “And why would Yaga send her and not tell us?” His curiosity was getting the better of him.

Or maybe it was his unease.

Geto shrugs his shoulders, his relaxed expression not wavering.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t worried about her, he could admit he, too, had some wonderings about her involvement in collecting Riko. Particularly why it was kept hidden, and she’s been MIA ever since she crossed paths with Satoru a few days ago. However, he had faith in her abilities as a sorcerer to fend for herself. Whatever she was up to, he knew it was for good reason. She had a knack for sniffing out suspicious leads. (y/n) may not be a Special Grade like him and Satoru, but she had proven time and time again that she deserved her placement at Grade One with her sheer intelligence and willpower alone.

It was only a matter of time before she mastered her Cursed Technique and took her place beside them at Special Grade. Geto believed in this completely.

“Whatever the reason, it doesn’t concern us now,” Suguru spoke kindly, but the look on his face told Satoru that he was trying to move on from the conversation. “Right now, we should just focus on Miss Riko and-”

“You have a girlfriend?” The child asked, hands on her hips as she sized Gojo up, not believing it.

Suguru burst into laughter, throwing his head back and openly laughing at the idea of (y/n) being anywhere close to Satoru’s girlfriend.

The Six Eyes user scowls at his so-called friend.

“She’s not my girlfriend” He says dryly.

“Oh. Makes more sense” Riko said, grinning at her own little quip.

“Brat” Satoru scoffs.

While Suguru is busy laughing, Satoru pulls his phone out again. To his surprise, (y/n) had actually sent him a response.

[(y/n)]: been busy.

Ouch. When was she going to learn that sending a period at the end of a text instantly makes it bitter? Gojo frowns. She probably did it on purpose.

Another text popped up while he still had the chat open.

[(y/n)]: i’ll catch up with you later.

Later? It already was later, it had been three days for crying out loud! Gojo scowled at the dry response that didn’t provide him any relief, or lead on what she was up to.

She must have still been annoyed with him from the last time they’d spoke.

They didn’t always have the friendliest of relationships. Most of the time that Satoru spent around (y/n) was unwanted, and she made that clear by shooting down his stupid jokes and meaningless flirtations. But at the root of their strange friendship, they were partners first, including Suguru and Shoko. The four of them had an unbreakable bond that no matter how annoying Satoru got, she still always had his back. And no matter how cruel (y/n) could be in trying to get him to leave her alone, he would do the same for her.

There were brief instances where the pair wasn’t a completely dysfunctional friendship. If he could be quiet long enough to watch a movie, or after a particularly draining mission, they could last maybe four hours without Satoru trying to mess with her, and (y/n) trying to start an argument.

It was rare that (y/n) was the one to annoy him, though. Usually he was amused by her abrasive reactions to his relentless picking. But for some reason, he felt annoyed with her now.

It just wasn’t like her to disappear for multiple days. He didn’t like not knowing where she was. Not knowing if she was safe. ___

On the day of the assignment, (y/n) had been taking a shortcut to catch up with Geto faster. She wasn’t lying when she told Satoru that.

But she never made it to her destination, getting sidetracked by another player in the game to catch the Star Plasma Vessel.

He wasn’t in any special attire giving him away, so she knew he wasn’t here on behalf of Q. But the blade strapped to his broad back was enough to tell her that he was involved, somehow.

And he likely wasn’t an ally.

He was probably twenty feet away from her, on his phone, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk while he spoke bitterly to whoever was on the other end of the line. Even if he wasn’t carrying a weapon, he still would have stood out with a tee shirt that tight clinging onto every muscle in his back and arms.

Curiously, (y/n) crept a little closer, hoping she was hidden enough in the crows of people between them that she could close and overhear his conversation.

“I told you,” His tone had a bite to it as he growled into the receiving end of the phone. “It’s Fushiguro now. Call me Zen’in again and I’ll forget the child and come for you first”

(y/n) froze in place.

From those few words she could make out, she knew exactly who that was.

Every bone in her body told her to turn around, and run. An instinct, deep in her blood, crept up her spine in a chill.

That was Sorcerer Killer Toji Zen’in.

Or apparently, Toji Fushiguro.

She’d never seen him before, only heard of him when teachers or upperclassmen would share hushed rumors about the deranged man. And even what she’d heard of him wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to know that if her suspicions were correct, she was in the very wrong place, at the very wrong time.

But, a voice at the back of her mind chirps. But maybe there was an opportunity here.

If her classmates were here, they’d call her foolish, and tell her to turn the hell around and walk the hell away. But they weren’t here. She was alone, and this was her decision to make, alone.

(y/n) was no coward. She was never one to shy away from a fight, even when she was outnumbered. She would put everything she had into fighting for the things she believed in.

And she certainly believed in taking a man like this down.

So with quiet steps, she drew nearer to the assassin, listening in to what else he had to say to the stranger on the other end of the call.

“You think that I could give a shit about those rugrats?” He snarls. “What happens to them is none of my concern. They’ll get a check in a few days when this bullshit assignment is up. And then I’m taking the rest to the track”

Who was he talking about?

It’s quiet as he listens to whatever is being said through the receiver, leaving (y/n) to try to quickly decode half of a conversation that she had only barely heard.

The man scowls down at the ground, his hand tightening around his cellphone. (y/n) wonders briefly if it was going to shatter from the death grip he had on it.

And then he says something that has her turning and walking away, like she should have done in the first place. Her heart pounds in her ears and her stomach drops harder than it had when she’d leapt off a building just fifteen minutes ago.

“They’re not that young. The girl is old enough now to take care of the boy. Don’t ever question me again on my parenting abilities”

As she makes haste in her steps, she’s certain of two things.

One, whether it was wise or not, she was going to be involved, and follow this odd lead that piqued her intrigue. And two, if she was going to follow this man, she was going to have to keep very, very quiet about it. ___

a/n: well that's the first part !! i hope this catches some of y'alls interest, i'm really excited about this series :) angst to come!

xoxo - jordie

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fanfiction #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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hotvintagepoll · 27 days

Text

Propaganda

Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!

Hend Rostom (Cairo Station, Eshaat Hob)— Egyptian movie star called the "Marilyn Monroe of the East", need anyone say more

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hend Rostrom:

Deborah Kerr:

I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.

Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.

Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.

Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!

Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"

She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS

#deborah kerr #hend rostom #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 1 month

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Please enjoy some filler fluff as a reward for your patience

The January cold was a biting, painful thing, with the uncanny ability to burrow its way deep beneath any clothing, regardless of the layers everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had desperately piled on for protection. Thick, wool socks and scarves were always in order, and a few of the elderly women in the village had begun to make a pretty penny by selling them on to disgruntled pilots who had never before experienced winter outside of California.

Major Kidd had given her Egan's sheepskin jacket. Well, he less gave it to her than he did leave it in the mechanics' hut for her, but she appreciated the gesture nevertheless. The sleeves were too long, but she made do, as it was loose enough on her to fit comfortably over her work overalls. Combined with the wool tights she'd stolen from George, and the fingerless gloves she'd found at the bottom of a drawer somewhere, the weather was almost bearable. Almost.

It had snowed overnight. There was too much ice on the roads to cycle without endangering life and limb, so Frankie had been forced to commandeer a phone and summon Lemmons in one of the jeeps. The man had looked so miserable upon his arrival, that it had been impossible not to laugh. Hat tugged down past his eyebrows, scarf pulled up over his chin, his face was only half visible, and what sliver she could see was contorted in a frown. His gloves were made of bright orange wool, and she suspected the women in the village had run out of the more appealing colours by the time he sought them out. Grinning to herself, she clambered into the jeep, stomping snow off of her boots as she sat down.

"I don't like this country anymore, Frankie," Ken complained, voice muffled by his scarf.

She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, if you think this is bad..."

He was stricken with a look of complete and utter fear, and Frankie let out a snort. "It gets worse?"

"Probably!"

This information put him in a foul mood for the rest of the drive, muttering and grumbling to himself about 'goddamn snow' and 'goddamn ice' as they pulled up to the runway, tyres gouging fresh marks into the undisturbed blanket of white. They were both left sorely wishing they had finished their work the night before when the weather had been more palatable, but there was no getting around what they had to do now.

The metal of the planes' exteriors was frozen to the touch, bare fingertips left raw and red as they worked away at replacing and tightening various bolts and rivets, breath blooming in frozen clouds in front of their faces. Every five minutes they would have to step away from whatever they were doing and run a few laps around the place just to warm themselves up, aware of what a ridiculous sight they must have made.

"Think they'll go up again tomorrow?" Ken asked, panting as he jogged on the spot behind Frankie, occasionally pausing to throw in a few star jumps.

"Not if the weather doesn't clear up - they'll need better skies than this if the navigators want to get anywhere," She shrugged, pausing halfway through tightening another bolt to jump up and down, attempting to restore feeling to her legs.

"Everyone else is in bed right now," He complained.

"Lucky bastards."

The pair must have appeared entirely absurd, chatting away with stony, irritated expressions as they stomped and jumped around entirely out of synch, and they counted themselves lucky that there wasn't a single other soul out there that morning to bear witness. A lit cigarette hung from between Frankie's lips, the embers only just succeeding in warming her face. Their cheeks and noses had both turned red after only an hour out in the cold, and by the end of their second, neither could justify staying outside any longer.

Kicking the snow off their boots, they shut themselves in the mechanics' hut, the light that hung from the ceiling swaying in the drafty breeze - the result of a ceiling gap that they were unable to locate. Turning on the gas stove that was usually only used to make terrible coffee, the pair pulled up their chairs beside it, holding their frozen hands above the small flame until feeling returned to their fingers.

"I forgot to ask you about your Christmas," Frankie huffed, rubbing her palms together, creating heat from the friction.

"That was nearly a month ago," He pointed out.

"I know. Just felt a bit bad about not asking."

"It was good, yeah. Sammy's folks had a goose, I dunno where they got it from," Lemmons chuckled, pausing for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. "How was your Christmas?"

She frowned at him. "I told you before. Good."

"...Mhm."

A sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, heads snapping towards the unexpected sound. Brows furrowed, they glanced at one another, neither one wanting to get up from their spot beside the stove. "Door's open!" Ken called.

They could hear the sound of someone awkwardly fumbling with the door handle, and Frankie was about to get up when it finally opened. Rosie had to use his foot to pry his way inside, a steaming cup of Red Cross coffee in each hand as he shuffled through, flakes of snow still resting unmelted in his hair. His face was flushed pink, and he wasn't wearing anywhere near enough clothes to protect him from the cold, snow encrusting the soles of his boots.

"Hey!" Frankie beamed, pulling up another chair for him between her and Lemmons. "Jesus, were you trying to get hypothermia?"

"Brought coffee," He said simply, voice still slightly shaky as he sat down, holding the tin mugs out to the mechanics. "And uh-" Reaching into his pocket, Rosie produced a crumpled paper bag containing a couple of doughnuts. "Don't tell Helen. Was only supposed to take one."

"Gee, thanks, Cap," Lemmons nodded gratefully, shooting Frankie a pointed stare that she pretended not to have noticed. She nodded in agreement, both hands wrapped around her cup, feeling the heat seep through the metal. The Red Cross coffee always tasted so much better than the crap they had in the mechanics' hut, and she resisted the urge to grin at the gesture, especially as she realised he had brought nothing for himself.

They drank in silence for a while, the only sound the jagged, laboured breathing of one trying to wear off a chill. "...So, uh..." Rosie began, hands folded in his lap as he looked between the others. "...Work going well?"

"Y'know, I can go somewhere else if you guys want," Ken pointed out, peering at them over the rim of his mug.

"No!" "No!" Frankie and Rosie blurted simultaneously, assuring him hurriedly. "You need to keep warm, Ken," She told him.

He had slurped down his coffee quickly, the winter cold cooling it down so that it wouldn't burn his throat. Shaking his head, he pushed his chair backwards out of the little semi-circle they had created, scraping loudly across the floor. "The fuel cans we asked for arrived yesterday, I should go pick them up before I forget."

"You sure?" Frankie asked, getting up to trail after him as he made his way to the door. "The snow'll probably start melting soon, you should wait until it's not so icy."

"No, no. Now's good," Lemmons nodded determinedly, smirking at her as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing its way inside. "Thanks again for the coffee, Rosie!"

"No problem, Ken," He nodded, tipping an imaginary cap at him as the mechanic disappeared outside.

Frankie paused a moment to process what had happened before letting out a huff of laughter. Rosie was still sat beside the stove, watching with a smile as she crossed the room towards him. She leant down, and he craned his head up to meet her, their lips meeting in a quick kiss, as casual and comfortable as a long-married couple.

"He definitely knows," She pointed out, lowering herself back into her seat and propping her legs up across his lap, his elbows resting gently on them.

"Oh yeah," Rosie nodded in agreement. "Have you properly told anyone yet? Only, I haven't - I was waiting until you wanted to."

"Oh, I've only told George, she won't tell anyone. But I tell her literally everything, so y'know."

"Yeah, yeah, I expected that," He continued nodding, pausing after a moment as a stricken look of realisation crossed his face. "Wait, does that mean you told her about when we-"

"No! No, not about that, Jesus," Frankie giggled, nose creasing as she took another sip of her coffee. A smile spread across Rosie's expression as he took a moment to actually take in her appearance, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the hem of her trousers.

"... Is that Egan's jacket?"

"Mhm," She hummed, wiping her top lip as she put down her mug. "Kidd left it for me. It doesn't fit-" Frankie flapped the ends of her sleeves to illustrate the point, making him chuckle. "-but the thought was nice."

"God, I absolutely humiliated myself the first time I met Egan," Rosie shook his head slightly, his cheeks reddening. "Kept talking about flying in my goddamn skivvies, I was pretty sure he only brought me to meet you so that you two could both laugh at the weird new Captain."

She laughed, taking one of his hands in hers, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers as she spoke. "I'm sorry, you flew in your what?"

"Jesus, I'm doing it again, this is like a recurring nightmare. It gets real hot in Texas, right, so we practised flying in our underwear to stop us from over-heating - but of course I decided that was the best possible story to introduce myself to the Majors with. I mean, Christ, I still don't know what I was thinkin'."

"Well, the first time I met him I absolutely destroyed him in a drinking contest, so he's been offered his fair share of public humiliation."

"That... does help, actually," He admitted, and she grinned, running a hand through his hair and messing up his curls as she rose to her feet. His gaze followed her, tilting his head upwards, a few loose curls hanging in his face. "Where are you going?"

"Funny thing is, I actually have this thing called a job," Frankie teased, zipping up Egan's jacket as she headed for the door. "I have to, like, do it, and everything."

"Wow, that sounds really hard, I'm so impressed," Rosie replied flatly, a smirk curling his lip.

A gust of wind blew a cloud of snowflakes in through the door as she opened it, flipping her collar up to her chin against the breeze as she stepped outside. Lemmons was waiting there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his unexpected presence startled her, snow crunching beneath her feet as she jumped, sucking in a sharp breath.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ken shrugged. "Thought I oughta give you a minute - didn't wanna interrupt anything private."

Frankie's eyes narrowed, glaring at him as they made their way back towards the hardstand. "Oh, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong?"

Turning on her heel, she stared at him, their gazes locked for a long, awkward moment of silence. She gnawed at her lip, saying nothing, until suddenly she broke, scoffing as she stomped away. "Fuck you, Ken."

"Told you!"

Before he could move, she had slung an arm around his neck, forcing him into a playful headlock. Lemmons squawked, wrestling against her unrelenting grip until he dug his fingers into her side, and she released him with a yelp, their hair both dusted white with snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took three days for the weather to subside - three days of icy roads, relentless snowfall, and trying not to freeze on the hardstand. Every day like clockwork Rosie had brought the mechanics fresh, hot coffee, filling flasks with the stuff to satisfy more and more of the ground crews, who were growing steadily more irritable with each inch of snowfall. The pilots were grounded for the duration, but even the pub seemed too great of a trek under such circumstances. The only sanctuary was the small, cylindrical heaters inside the Nissen huts, and in the evenings many took to sitting around them to keep warm.

Early morning birdsong came as an unwelcome sound as Frankie's eyes peeled open, adjusting to consciousness as sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed. A gust of air hit her face as her bedsheets were ripped off of her, and she flinched as she waited for the sudden chill to grip her. But it didn't.

"George. What the fuck," She grumbled, pressing her palms against her eyelids as she sat up, hair knotted and sticking out at random angles on one side of her head.

"Get up. Snow's thawed, they'll be flying today."

The woman had a disturbing knack for always looking immaculate - golden hair falling in perfect curls, red lipstick that never smudged, and clothes that always fitted perfectly. George always told her that it was just that she put in the effort, but Frankie tended to suspect some sort of witchcraft.

"Well fuck me, in that case, why didn't you wake me up sooner?" She huffed, her hairbrush getting stuck halfway through a knotted patch. For a moment, she couldn't quite bear to deal with it, and just let it hang there, weighing down her scalp on one side.

"Thought you should get some beauty sleep before you see off your darling pilot," She teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Although admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to wake up looking like you'd been dragged sideways through a thornbush," George added, and Frankie let out a cry as she yanked on the hairbrush, dragging it forcefully through her hair until it fell straight.

"I'll drag you sideways through a bush in a minute," She muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on her scalp with one hand as she pulled on her coveralls with the other.

"I just think it took you long enough to finally snog him, you might as well try not to look like a dying cat whenever you see him."

"Oh, piss off!"

Huge meltwater puddles lined the roads on both sides, the grass reduced to muddy swampland, sodden with what remained of the snowfall. Frankie pedalled slowly, careful not to slip, calling out in greeting to the men who passed by in their jeeps, tyres kicking up water, spraying her legs and staining her trousers.

Her breaks screeched loudly to a halt as she stopped in front of a half-melted snowman on the side of the road, the last remaining evidence of the village children's play. Their laughter had filled the air since the first snowfall, the only remedy to the constant, freezing misery. The snowman's head was close to toppling off, its carrot nose drooping pathetically. She couldn't help but chuckle as one of the pebbles they had used for eyes slipped from its perch, landing with a thumb in the damp grass. She wondered if it had snowed back home, if Alice and Jill had made a snowman of their own. As a child, she'd used her mother's old scarf and gloves, the scent of perfume still lingering on them after so many years.

Another jeep rolled past, cutting it too close and too fast, a spray of puddle water splashing all the way up her back, the cold soaking through to her spine. Frankie let out a yelp, her train of thought lost as she flipped off the driver in his side mirror and began to pedal again, resuming her steady, cautious pace as the airstrip came into view.

The Riveters were gathered around their B-17 when she arrived, packs slung over their shoulders as they readied to board. Letting out a huge yawn, Frankie dismounted her bike, letting it lie on the tarmac as she approached, the uncomfortable stick of damp fabric against skin making her squirm. The moment Pappy saw her, he frowned. "D'you just get up? They've run the checks on our bus already, right?"

"Your plane's been ready to fly for days, Pap - I was out here in the snow making sure of it while you lot were warming your feet by the fire," She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

Rosie was visibly fighting a grin as she approached, Bailey shooting him a confused look at his expression as he passed, clambering into the belly of the plane. One by one, the flight crew filed inside, hauling themselves up through the hatch in a series of grunts, until their Captain was the only one left standing on the tarmac. The moment they were alone, he let his smile show, a red tint flushing his cheeks. "Ma'am," He teased, tilting his cap at her as she approached.

Frankie smirked, stepping forward until their fronts were pressed together. "So... what number is this now?"

"Seventeenth mission," Rosie nodded.

"Hm. Not too shabby."

"Why thank you, dear," He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers. Just as Frankie began to reciprocate the kiss, a thought popped into his mind, and he pulled back, eliciting a tut of disappointment from her. "Y'know, I had this idea earlier that I'd bring you flowers, but it's too damn cold for 'em. Thought I'd let you know anyway, so you can appreciate the thought."

She hummed. "Duly noted," Grinning, she resumed the kiss, her teeth accidentally grazing his lip as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Hands grasping at her back, his brow furrowed at the sudden dampness, but he figured she might send him away if he ruined the kiss again. He could smell the oil on her clothes, but the scent he had once found acrid now only succeeded in reminding him of her. Even miles up in the sky, hanging perilously over enemy territory, there was something calming in that smell, a constant tether to home.

The pair had been so engrossed in their embrace, that they had failed to notice Pappy reappearing through the hatch, sent to retrieve something they had forgotten in the jeep. But the moment his feet hit the tarmac, and he took in the scene before him, he froze, releasing a sort of strangled grunt that alerted them to his presence, springing away from each other, hands raised to wipe any evidence of the other from their mouths.

Wide-eyed in a mixture of shock and horror, he spoke in angry whispers, closing the hatch most of the way to muffle the sound. "Are you kidding me?!"

Rosie held up his hands as if begging for mercy. "Look, Pappy, I was gonna tell you, it's just-"

"I owe George so much money," Pappy huffed, running a hand across his brow.

Frankie frowned. "... You what?"

"We had drinks last week, we were betting on how long it'd take for... this to happen."

She resisted the urge to laugh, noticing how Rosie seemed to be suppressing a smile. "George already knew about this last week."

His expression was horror-stricken, face growing ever-redder with every second that passed. "... Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Rosie let out a chuckle. "I think you just got scammed, Pappy."

Brow furrowed, expression contorted in fury, Pappy muttered to himself in indecipherable fury as he marched over to the jeep, retrieved his forgotten cargo, and stomped back towards the plane, pausing briefly to interrupt his incensed murmuring. "Happy for you two. Or whatever," He sighed, waving a hand in their general direction as he failed to meet their eyes.

As soon as he was safely inside the plane and out of earshot, they collapsed into laughter, his utterly outraged frown seared into their minds. Rosie wheezed as he caught his breath, "I think George is using your friendship for evil," He pointed out, succumbing to laughter again as Frankie let out a cackle.

"I am not letting her collect on that debt," She shook her head, face flushed red, cheeks creased with a smile. Frankie looked up as she felt his hands against her face, palms cupping his cheeks as he brought her face to his, their foreheads simply resting against each other's as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I will see you later," He spoke softly, the tip of his nose brushing against hers.

"Yeah, you better," She reached up, straightening his tie. "I'll be really pissed off otherwise."

"And we can't have that."

"Nope."

With one last smile, Rosie pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Frankie scoffed as he pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He smirked to himself as he climbed up into the plane, arms burning with the weight of his body as he hauled himself up through the hatch. Navigating his way through to the cockpit with ease, he slid into the pilot's seat, feeling Pappy's gaze burning into the side of his skull.

"...Yes Pappy?" He asked after a moment of silence, his co-pilot shaking his head side to side, never retracting his penetrating stare.

"I fuckin' knew it."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #pappy lewis #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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