#you can't do the stupid hinting they do one day
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LEVEL UP | STREAMER!SOOBIN X READER
︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
"NO NO NO NO," you heard your boyfriend, Soobin, yell in despair.
Glancing at the Snoopy-themed clock, it read 2:30 AM, marking five hours since he started streaming. You recalled his excitement about being sponsored by the game, hoping for future offers if it goes well.
Rising from your spot on the shared bed, you crossed the dimly lit hall to quietly open the door to his room. He remained intensely focused on the screen, the soft clicks of his mechanical keyboard echoing as you entered. Frustrated sighs followed each demise of his character on screen.
"Chat, you don't understand," he started, setting aside his keyboard and mouse. "No username, I am not taking backseat gaming or any advice from you. The last time I did that, it made me restart the ENTIRE game."
You chuckled softly, watching your boyfriend ruffle his hair in frustration. His slouched shoulders hinted that he was nearing his breaking point and pretty ready to end the stream.
"Binnie," you called out, settling into the beanbag adjacent to his desk.
Soobin perked up instantly at the sound of his name, swiftly removing his earbuds as he rose to approach you. "When did you come in?" he asked, crouching down to your level. Leaning in, he planted a kiss on your lips before gently settling on top of you, eliciting a surprised yelp at his sudden weight.
"You've been at it for five hours, hun," you said, poking his side playfully until he squirmed and finally got up after the tenth poke.
"Come here, and I'll show you why," he motioned you over, patting his lap. His followers knew about you because he couldn't help but talk about you at times, and they have seen your face from the times you brought him snacks or a drink during his streams.
"Hi Chat," You smiled, bringing your face closer to his webcam and giving them a little wave when you settled on his lap.
"Okay," Soobin placed his chin on your shoulder and returned his hands to the keyboard and mouse. "Just watch and see why I just can't get past this stupid level."
You weren't as big of a gamer as Soobin, but you knew your way around from the games he played or even those you tried yourself from the days when he didn't want to be at his computer.
One of the perks of having a gamer boyfriend who was also a popular streamer was having access to his Steam account and his credits to buy games that piqued your interest, often discovered from TikTok.
Your eyes analyzed his movements, and you couldn't help but giggle when he dropped his head, hitting the back of your neck. "I don't understand why it's not working," he sighed in frustration.
"Well, it's because you're not hitting that when you're doing your runs," you explained, gently removing his hands from the setup in front of you. Slowly, you moved his character over to what you believed was the key element for him to pass this level. "See, it's breakable with that TNT sign on it."
You restarted the level and began to execute your run. As you played, Soobin's eyes moved back and forth between his main screen and your side profile, a lovestruck smile spreading across his face, just as his chat had claimed always happened whenever you were in his peripheral vision.
His smile widened as you cheered, successfully passing the level he had spent the majority of his time on. "Wait, babe, you're crazy good," he exclaimed, his jaw-dropping in amazement at the winning transition.
"I'm just better than you, Soobie boobie" you teased, twisting slightly to face him and sticking out your tongue.
He shook his head, laughing, and wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, giving you a quick peck on your cheek.
His joyful expression quickly shifted to one of furrowed eyebrows as he read his chat.
"Chat, she IS NOT replacing me," he groaned, "And stop asking if she's single. I'll literally make out with her right here, right now."
an | there is no specific game I'm referencing, I couldn't really think of one but if anyone has an idea, I can make it for another one!
#kpop#iicehoon#iicehoon writes#kpop drabbles#kpop imagines#tomorrow x together#txt#txt post#soobin scenarios#soobie boobie#choi soobin x reader#choi soobin fluff#soobin imagines#txt drabbles#txt imagines#txt fic#txt fanfic
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Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
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Fourth part here:
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«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known»
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are.
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible- neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself.
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket.
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style.
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately.
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women»
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant»
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm.
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand.
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty»
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence.
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted:
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
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#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod fanfic#fanfiction#writers on tumblr#ghost x reader#ghost x you#johnny soap mctavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#writing dialogues is so funny#Price is basically becoming more and more the pscyhologist of the team#Task Force 141 is a close team of gossiper#don't know if ou've already noticed but i don't know shit about miitary life#it will be something more spicy sooner or later#for now just hints about sub/dom relationship
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Agree with you on all your unpopular takes. But curious about your take on them breaking up in 2022. Why Grease for Harryween 2022 then?
Cause harry needed that extra larrie dollar.
I don't think any of them has hinted for years and when they did it was cause they needed our coins. and before 2020 it was fine cause it did seem they were together but now it's just gross when they do.
#anons#you can't do the stupid hinting they do one day#and throw us under the bus the next#that is why I am begging people to stop giving them money#and to stop creating engagement around their careers
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Girl dinner - Carmen Berzatto
Content Warnings: THIS IS MY MEAL. I CALL IT GIRL DINNER ✨️GIRLLLL DINNNER✨️
Inspired by this post I saw by @thebearer (i hope you don't mind me adding to the concept)
"What the fuck is girl dinner?" Carmy sounds more than frustrated, and confused as he stares down at you, sat comfortably on the couch with your choice of meal. It's an apalling assortment of things from his point of view, though your wide smile shows you think the opposite.
"This is girl dinner." You wave down at your food before stabbing a fork into the meal, eyes drifting to the tv.
"No, no, no, I can't let you eat that." Carmy seems a little distraught as you make eye contact with him, putting more of the dish you prepared into your mouth, chewing slowly as though to make the point 'but I'm eating it anyway.'
"Fuck, please stop with the girl dinner." You love how he's adopted the phrase himself, reaching down to pull the plate away from you, though you dodge him well.
"You eat peanut butter and Jelly for dinner almost five nights a week, so don't you dare scold me for this!" You're defensive as you stand with your plate, still spooning the disaster into your mouth. It doesn't taste as good as anything Carmy would make for you, but you're stubborn.
"At least that has substance, just let me make you something—Jesus stop eating it! There's no way that's nutritious at all!"
"Fuck nutrition!" You shout back, sounding almost like a child in your defiance.
"Fuck girl dinner!" Carmy counters expertly, though there's a hint of a laugh within his words. In the phrase coming from both his lips and your own, he finds a sort of hilarity, though the point he's trying to make is a genuine one.
"But I love girl dinner." You raise your brows as if that's the perfect blow, the one that will win you the fight, despite the statements lack of foundation.
"Well, I love you, and I can't let you eat cheese string and oreos—is that a slice of fucking orange?"
"What could you make that's better than this?" It's a stupid question, and one you know that answer to as you gesture down at the plate with one hand.
"Anything, fucking anything!" Carmy runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. "What d'you want, I'll make you something, anything, just stop with girl dinner."
You take the slice of orange and bite into it, eyes locked on Carmen's. "The point of tonight's girl dinner is that I don't want to cook, and I also don't want you to cook."
"That's my fucking job."
"Exactly, you spend all day cooking, i don't want you to have to come home and cook for me too." Your voice is softer now, sweet and soothing, Carmy letting out a sigh at the sound of it.
He moves forward, taking the plate from you and placing it on the stool beside the couch. "Look, I don't mind. I don't mind making you something every once'n a while. You deal with all my shit all the fucking time, it's the least I can do." He takes your hands in his own, pressing his forehead to yours. "Just let me make you something."
"You're ruining the point of girl dinner." You mumble, pressing a short kiss to his lips as Carmy's hands run soothingly up and down your arms.
"Don't care." His mutters back, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen, your other meal long abandoned on the stool to be disposed of later.
Days pass, Carmy is still thinking about it, and when he gets to work, he has to say something to the others. "Caught my girlfriend eating fucking orange slices and oreos for dinner the other night." He mutters whilst searing a steak in prep for a menu change. He glimpes Sydney nodding, and as Fak moves behind him, the man decides to speak.
"Girl dinner, good for her."
Carmy turns so fast to face the man that he almost sets his shirt alight on the element, thinking over the utter complexities of the term. "But what the fuck is girl dinner? How do you even know about–never mind."
"You know," Fak begins as Carmy runs a hand over his face in frustration, "this is my meal, I call this girl dinner" He's reciting something though Carmen has no clue where this is going, and when Fak starts singing it all seems to get worse.
He's repeating the phrase, and yet it still means nothing to Carmy as he moves away, leaving Fak to harmonize with Sydney as he picks up the phone.
Pressing call on your contact is like muscle memory, and the sound of the first few rings leaves him impatient, though you pick up eventually.
"Hey," he mutters into the phone, listening to your voice as you parrot the word back.
"Hey, what's up?" You sound preoccupied, and Carmy swears he can hear the closing of a cupboard door, the rustling of a packet of chips.
"Uh, nothing, I just... I wanted to call and ask if you're all good for dinner tonight." He's closed his eyes, leaning against the door of his office as the quiet settles over him. "D'you need anything?"
You answer almost too fast, suspicion creeping through the line with its grasp on your voice. "No, no, I'm good. Dinner's all good."
Carmy catches the tone, a small amused smile wriggling upon his lips. "Cool, so uh, what're you having?" He scared of the answer, if you decide to be honest—which you don't.
"I was thinking tacos, maybe, I haven't decided."
"Nice," Carmy chuckles, "so none of that girl dinner shit? No orange slices and string cheese?" Carmy can almost picture it as the words come to mind, the plate of horrors he'd witnessed not a week before. There's silence over the phone, and Carmy can hear you heave a sigh, loud and final, as you come to terms with your lie. You don't say anything, though, so Carmy fills the space.
"I'm coming home t'night," he whispers into the receiver, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he adjusts his apron. "Me, you and the tacos, okay?"
His voice is so gentle, the affection dripping from the words like honey, and he's truly never spoken to someone with as much care. It scares him sometimes, just how much he loves you.
"Carmy, I make the worst fucking tacos." Your smile is hidden within the sentence, and it reaches Carmy like a wave washing the sand, though you're so far from him right now.
"Yeah, I uh, I know. That's why I'm cooking." The kitchen is starting to get loud outside Carmy's office door, and he knows he has to get out there soon to save whatever is left of the peace.
"You don't have to do that, Carm," you exhale, and he can almost picture you, leaning against the kitchen bench, strands of hair loose that, if he was with you, he would be dying to push back into place.
"I want to." He means it, the words he says. "You're important to me, and I want you to know that. I do."
Carmy doesn't know it, but you're grinning on the other end of the line, blood rushing to your cheeks at the thought of his affection. His love.
"Okay." You whisper, "you're important to me too, Carm."
That means everything to Carmy, and he's so desperate to hold onto this, so desperate to not mess this all up. Not after Claire.
"I love you." It's unusual for him to say it first, but he does this time, and his voice soothes any stress you might have. He can hear you smile when you speak again and knows he'll be thinking about the sound of your words for the rest of the day.
"Love you too, bear, see you tonight."
CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef
THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique
#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto fanfic#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto fanfiction#the bear#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#the bear fanfic#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto fanfic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto one shot#carmen berzatto drabble#carmen berzatto one shot#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy the bear#sydney adamu#neil fak#the bear imagines#the bear imagine
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sober me up
(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)
characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.
portgas d. ace
"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”
you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.
“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”
he pauses. “can i?”
fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?
so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.
when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.
“let’s do that again.”
trafalgar d. water law
law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.
he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.
“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”
“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.
“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.
"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.
at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.
"ah, young love." penguin sighs.
sanji
being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.
"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)
the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."
miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"
... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.
though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)
"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.
"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.
sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.
the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.
#one piece x reader#law x reader#portgas d ace#portgas d ace x reader#sanji x reader#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar law#sanji#one piece fluff#one piece x reader fluff
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Polluted
Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.
A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)
Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer
Word count: 1.9K
Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.
You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.
Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.
"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."
His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.
You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.
"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"
You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.
One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.
"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"
His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.
"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."
You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.
"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"
You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.
You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.
"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."
Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.
"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."
You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.
"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"
Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.
"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.
Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.
"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom.
You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler
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━━ [ 𝟒:𝟐𝟗 ] ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
✧ cw :: fem!reader (bkg calls reader 'my girl' once), fluff, bkg calls you ‘babe’ once, hinted at that denki has a crush on you, you just wanna braid his hair
✧ a/n :: finally some fluff 🤭 i actually really liked writing this one !!
“your hair is actually a curse.”
your words come out a little above a whisper, absent-minded as you play with his hair, his head resting in your lap. granted, the blond hair is softer than it looks, but its uneven spikes barely allowed for any diversity in hairstyles.
“like, what do you mean i can't braid it?” this isn't the first time this exasperated complaint is voiced and you hear bakugou snort, the corners of his lips tilting upwards in a half-grin.
“thank god, i’d look like shit with braids.” you try to envision them on him, but the fact that his face is upside down doesn’t help at all. what you do see is the light from the warm day peaking through the thin curtains to kiss his face, and you're reminded of how unnecessarily pretty your boyfriend is.
“who said you don't already look like shit?” you can't help it, and when he looks up at you, eyebrows raised as if you both know better, you grin and raise yours back— as if to suggest that maybe he doesn't.
“don’t think you'd be here if i did, babe.” his grin looks boyish and you can't understand why he prefers contorting his features into a grimace.
it's your turn to snort, fingers sectioning some of his choppy bangs off to as to fiddle around with them specifically. “maybe i’m into guys who look like shit, katsuki. ever think about that?”
“if you were, you would be in dunceface’s room right now, not mine.” it's too quick of a response to not have been thought of before, and you flick the top of his forehead. he's done it to you many times before, and you understand why— it was a little fun.
“kaminari is actually really nice, katsu, leave him be.”
bakugou rolls his eyes— of course you'd think he's nice. “he’s even better when he's not hitting on my girl— he should try that sometime.” you chuckle at his grumbling, eyebrows knitted together to frame his eyes. he's cute when he's harmlessly jealous.
“even if he was— i fear my heart is already taken.” you fake a look of sorrow. “a shame, really.”
katsuki's eyes gleam in daylight as he scoffs. “‘a shame’ my ass— you're so in love with me it makes you look stupid.”
he's right, the both of you know he is. neither of you would have it any other way.
“you say that as if you don't kiss the ground i walk on, katsu.” your smile is softer and it sends a pang to his heart.
“and you deserve every kiss.” it's a cheesy line, one a past him would likely cringe at, but he finds no shame in making his devotion to you well known.
you dip your head down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning. the heart eyes he gives you when you're that close has the butterflies resting in your stomach kick up. “that’s what i thought, katsuki. now... have you ever thought about straightening your hair?”
you laugh at the horror that crosses over his face, scowl settling in his face as if to tell you to not even think about it— it doesn't matter how badly you want to braid it.
katsuki's whipped. he knows from the way he thinks you laugh like a summer afternoon, warm and excited, but even he had his limits.
✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
taglist (fill in this form to join!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay @k0z3me
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zoro + too sweet
i told myself i wasn't going to write something based on this song since everyone's doing it but here i am!
masterlist || commissions
tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @risenwrites @atanukileaf @cloudzoro @kaizokuniichan @sanjisprincesswifey @mirillua
"luffy, where did all the honey go?" sanji yells in frustration; he had just bought a two pound container on the last island, and it was already nearly half-empty. zoro is more than content to let the stupid cook pin the blame on their captain, but he can't help but smile to himself—he knows for a fact that the supply of the viscous sweet liquid always dwindles because of you. at least twice a day, you take a heaping spoonful with each cup of tea you drink, sloppily licking up the excess from your fingers and the rim of the jar to avoid wasting any sugary goodness.
you always swear up and down that you don't have a sweet tooth, but zoro knows you better than that.
you're the soft, blunt edge of his blades, a dampened echo that rings in the air and muffles his harshness. while he drinks his sake purely distilled, you prefer yours infused with a variety of fruits as you try to hold your own alongside him. though your resolve to reach your dream is just as strong as his, there's a quiet, more reserved confidence you carry about you that zoro admires more than he lets on.
and though you're too shy to voice it aloud, you have a craving for saccharine affection—one that zoro tries his best to keep sated as he spends each night with you nestled snugly in his arms. at times, as the warmth of your skin melts into his aching bones, he feels like he needs this even more than you do and tries to pinpoint the exact moment he turned so soft. he comes up empty; falling for you happened so gradually that he hadn't even noticed until he was neck-deep. however, though the love he feels for you came unexpectedly, he appreciates it—you, your company, everything—more than you'll ever know.
so, when you wake up in the morning with bleary, crusty eyes, he brings you a cup of tea supersaturated with honey, just how you like it—though he thinks it's a little too sweet for his taste when he catches a hint of it on your lips.
#one piece x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x you#roronoa zoro x you#zoro fluff#zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x y/n#one piece fanfiction#one piece fluff#roronoa zoro#x reader#one piece drabble#one piece scenario
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⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.
with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.
when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.
silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.
theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.
he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.
theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.
and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.
every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.
ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.
then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?
theodore nott destroys.
he destroys other living beings,
being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.
when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.
everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.
... he destroys himself.
which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.
smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).
consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.
so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.
and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.
to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.
what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?
would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?
theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.
... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.
a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.
in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.
theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—
of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.
of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.
theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.
so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.
but then?
then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.
( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )
but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.
and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.
౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡
run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .
🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.
— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.
the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷
#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#harry potter#harry potter drabbles#theo nott x reader#theo not x you#slytherin boys react#angst#angst headcanons#theodore nott dating#dating headcanons#angst with a happy ending#mentions of abuse#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#slytherin x reader
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ANNE DONT MIND ME PLS you write so good and reading these drabbles made me want to request one of my own !!
imagine professor!dazai giving u an extra lesson after class 🤭 it's 12 from the list btw <3
CHIYO MY DEAR♡ i'm so happy you requested this one. hope you like it. I made Dazai a literature professor👀♡
12 — Professor!char giving you an extra lesson after class
ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: lowkey unethical, sex toys, semi-public space, creampie
"Keep reading, bella, you're halfway there."
Your professor's voice carried a hint of mockery as he soothed your thigh with a hand, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. You winced at the sensation, shooting Dazai a desperate glance over your shoulder.
Osamu Dazai was the new literature professor at your college– some prodigy kid who finished his PHD by the age of 25 and whose novels sold like hot cakes and now everyone was singing him praise. Frankly, you weren't too impressed by his accomplishments, but he was the only professor in the whole faculty who actually encouraged you to write something different, out of the norm; so you did anything to stay on his good side.
Even if it meant helping him around the office and fucking him from time to time. Not that you'd complain, Dazai was incredibly good looking and knew how to please a woman.
So naturally, when your professor asked you to come to his office after class you expected a quick fuck, as usual.
But the smug bastard had you bent over his desk with your panties lowered mid-thigh and a vibrator shoved up your pussy, making you read the assignments your colleagues turned in while he made snide comments on the side.
"Was that supposed to be a metaphor? 'The mist of the summer evening' what's that supposed to mean? God, I swear these texts are getting worse and worse..."
"Ngh– 'samu please" you whined, shifting your hips "Can't we just do this later?" The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, you needed him inside you, not that stupid toy.
"Sorry, bella, I have to grade this paper by 6. The kid's coming to discuss it" he mused, watching your walls clench around the toy with keen eyes. God, your pussy was divine– his pants were tightening just by looking at you.
Reaching a hand towards you, Dazai touched your folds, gathering your slick and smearing it all over the inner part of your thighs. "My, my, you're dripping, dear. Better hurry up and finish reading if you want me to fuck you properly" His deft digits found your bundle of nerves and gave it teasing flicks.
Your mind was starting to get foggy, the sentences melting into a jumble of letters as you struggled to read the last paragraph out loud. It was painfully embarrassing, the way your body jolted up as he drew slow circles on your clit with his thumb, how desperate you were to have him inside you. All the while, Dazai was toying with you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite toy.
The second you were done with your paper you let it fall on the desk next to you. "Done, I'm done." you huffed out, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's teasing smile.
"Good job, bella. I think it's worth at least 60 points. I mean, it's a progress from the last assignment he turned in. What do you think?"
I think you should stop messing around and fuck me already– you wanted to say back but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy yes, sir. i'd say so too.
The man got up from his chair and slowly ran a hand through your hair. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants, your hips swaying in anticipation. "You're such a pretty girl" he hummed, removing the toy from your pussy with a wet pop and alligning himself at your entrance "And obedient too. I think you deserve a reward ah shiit—"
A broken whine slipped from his lips as he slammed himself inside you, the grip he had on your hips growing fiercer. Fuck, your cunt was basically sucking him in. You were so damn perfect he swore he could spend all day fucking you and it wouldn't be enough.
Your moans filled the tiny office, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air, fueling the man's need. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "Y-you're so tight bella think 'm gonna– fuck i'm gonna cum soon"
"Me too me too 'samu" you mewled as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you came around his cock, soaking it in your juices.
It wasn't a surprise you came so fast, he'd been edging you for hours and you were so sensitive. Even now as your walls pulsed around him, Dazai's fingers found your puffy clit and your body jolted up. "W-wait 'samu you can't I just–"
"Want you to cum again with me, donna. Can you do that for me?" he huffed out and your pussy fluttered at the sound of his breathy, whiny moans, pressure building up in your core again.
When the two of you reached your high again, his hips halted flush against yours, his milky cum shooting deep inside you. The man's breath was ragged and he hissed when he slightly pulled out, watching the sticky substance form a ring at the base of his cock as it dribbled out of your hole.
Something sparked inside him at that moment and he quickly flipped you over, caging you between his arms as he leaned over your frame. Droplets of sweat clung to the tips of his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours "Can we do it again?"
"But Dazai we just–" you wanted to protest but he cut you off with a deep thrust, making you choke out a moan.
"Don't care bella you don't understand what you do to me I can't get enough of you" he sighed, slowly, almost lovingly, rocking his hips against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw and down the expanse of your neck, making you shudder. You'd lie if you said that his confession didn't stir something inside you too.
Before you could answer, a knock on the door snapped both of you out of the intimate moment you were sharing. "Um... professor? You said I could come by at 6 so we can discuss my paper"
𐙚prompts closed
#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd smut#dazai bsd#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#dazai smut#bungou stray dogs dazai
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄… (𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬).
𝟎𝟎'𝟐: 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑
missing them every second they're gone, spoiling them with affection and material things, constantly feeling wanted and reassured, and willing to burn the world down just for them.
summary: a collection of ways on how the blue lock boys silently say "i love you."
note: i love this man so much that my fingers slipped and whoop- here it is. 2.1k words of tooth-rotting fluff by yours truly.
it's eight am in the morning and the air smells like blueberry pancakes with bacon. the blinds are drawn, sunlight filtering through the glass windows of kaiser's penthouse. the atmosphere is calm, street-level noise muted, and there are no neighbors to interrupt your morning.
or more like, you're glad he doesn't have neighbors otherwise he'll interrupt their morning.
"babe." you laugh with an amused look on your face, looking at your boyfriend of six years. "what are you doing?"
you watch as michael kaiser, bastard munchen's ace, places himself at your feet. he's wearing his pink panther pajamas, glasses still on his face after watching a rerun of a match. another thing on his face is the cutest pair of puppy eyes you've ever seen. but you aren't telling him that unless you want to cancel your plans for the week.
"i'm not letting you leave," he huffs as he wraps his hands around one of your legs, leaning his full weight onto the limb. "i'm not letting you leave me. how dare you!"
he looks like a snuggly koala, and you'd drag him back into bed for cuddles if you weren't already late.
"but we've been through this," you say with a quirked eyebrow, feeling him wrap himself tighter around your leg. "it isn't like i haven't told you about my plans. hell, you were the one who bought the tickets for me!"
his only answer comes in the form of a glare and a pout.
"sometimes i think i have a seven-year-old child as a boyfriend," you chuckle, equal parts endeared and annoyed at his behavior.
to be perfectly honest, kaiser is the perfect boyfriend. suave, charming, handsome. he ticks off every box on the ideal men to have as your husband list. even his tantrums, like the one he's having right now, are endearing.
"well tell your stupid friends that the stupid road trip is over. i'm not letting you out of the door."
ah, there it is. the reason he's been whining and pouting all day. you're due to leave for hawaii today, in an all-expense paid road trip, as a reward for getting a promotion at work. you didn't even think of leaving the country, perfectly content in rewarding yourself with a mini shopping spree. but your boyfriend, the one who's groveling at your feet begging you to stay, insisted on buying you tickets and a reservation to the most luxurious resort hawaii could offer.
looks like he's regretting that decision today.
"i would," you hum at your boyfriend, looking at him with mirth in your eyes. "but my stupid friends are already at the airport waiting for me."
he lets out a grumble at that. "then they'll just have to leave without you."
shaking your head with a hint of a smile on your face, you lower yourself to a squat. intent on teasing him back, you push him off your leg, laughing when he stumbles back with a yelp.
"what happened to you?" he glares with no real heat in his eyes, a small smile threatening to break on his face. he's enjoying this as much as you are. "you were so nice and obedient last-"
"don't!" you squeak as you tackle him, sending you both rolling to the floor in a fit of giggles. "don't you dare bring that up again!"
"i won't if you don't leave for the trip," he offers with a victorious smile, as if he's already won.
"you know i can't do that." you shake your head, sitting on your bum as he moves to lay his head on your lap. placing your hand in his hair, you play with the strands. "you've already bought the tickets and booked the resort. i don't want all that money to go to waste."
he grumbles, his head so deep in your lap that the words are muffled.
"what did you say?"
"i said." he springs up, moving into a sitting position in front of you. "i don't care about the money. i just want to spend time with you before i have to go back."
your heart beats a little faster, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "i'll only be gone for three days," you say with a soft smile, leaning in to press a hand to his cheek, which he nuzzles into. "besides, i'll be heading to germany with you. remember?"
"i know," he sighs at the touch, leaning into the warmth of your palm. "it's just- you know i'll be busy with games when we're back in germany. and i won't be able to spend much time with you..."
you feel your heart grow three sizes larger to fit in the amount of love you have for this man.
biting your lip at his pouty expression, you're quick to pull him into a sweet kiss. tilting your head to deepen it, you make sure to pour every ounce of your love into the one connection.
"how about.." you start-off, whispering against his lips. you giggle when he huffs and pulls you into another before climbing on to sit on his lap. "i go for two days and come back on the third so we can spend some quality time together?"
"how about you just stay right here, in my arms," he offers back with a mischievous grin as he leans in to press kisses on your neck. you sigh as he makes his way down your neck, nipping little love marks on your collarbone. "what do you say, mein liebling?"
"mikka.."
he stops at the sound of his favorite nickname. looking up at you with wide eyes and a hopeful expression that turns into a pout at the shake of your head. "how about i buy you that dog you've always wanted? what was it? the shiba inu?" he tries again with a cheeky smile. "i'll even buy you a panda!"
you raise an eyebrow at his words. "a panda? can you even buy a panda?"
"i'll have one imported from china," he says with an excited nod, the grin widening on his lips. "waddya say?"
"deal." you watch his face break into a trophy winning smile, his boyish charms swaying you just a little. "only if its a talking panda, though."
his smile drops and he glares as he pinches your bum with a finger.
laughing, you squeal at his little action before leaning down to press your forehead to his. "please?" you whisper as you nuzzle your noses together. "pretty please, for me?"
you see the hesitation in his eyes before he sighs, accepting defeat. "you better be home the second day, you hear me?" he says all through a ridiculous pout as he wraps his arms around your waist tightly.
"i'll pick you up from the airport." he nods to himself before groaning, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "you've got me weak, liebling. the things i do for you."
"thank you, mein kaiser," you say through a giggle as you tug at his hair, pulling his head back for a kiss. "ich liebe dich."
"i love it when you talk like that." his smirk is back on his face, his cheekiness shining its way through his small moment of despair. "makes you sound even hotter."
rolling your eyes, you get off his lap and tug him into a standing position. "seriously." you push him down onto the couch, pressing a searing kiss that has him groaning into your mouth. "you mean so much to me."
"you wouldn't be leaving if i meant that much to you," he says before laughing when you punch his shoulder with a glare. his expression is warm, love clear in his eyes when he pulls you down into one last hug. "break my heart. break it a thousand times if you'd like. it was only ever yours to break anyway."
"isn't that too much?" you laugh when he releases his grip on you, walking to the door where your suitcases are. you hum when he follows, his hand slipping into your back pocket as he stands by the door, ready to finally let you leave.
"i don't know what to do while you're gone," he says as he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. you watch as he looks at you from top to bottom, the pout seemingly forever etched onto his lips. at least, until you come back into his waiting arms.
"what do you usually do?" you ask, mentally rechecking whether you've forgotten to pack any of your things.
"wait for you to come back." the pout is replaced with a cheeky smile before it's gone again, the flirtatious glint in his eyes dimming. "i'll miss you. i miss you already."
"i'm still here you big baby," you say with a roll of your eyes before leaning in to press one final kiss on his lips. "but i'll miss you too."
you're halfway to the elevator, texting your friends to apologize for the delay when he runs over, shouting your name down the corridor.
you're really glad he doesn't have neighbors.
"can i kiss you again? this is the last one, i promise," he says, his hand making its way on your wrist when you turn to look back at him. at the irritated quirk of your eyebrow, he giggles.
"now?" you press, glancing at the watch on your wrist. "now? i'm already late. and i mean late, late. late as in, i might just miss my flight." you have an inkling feeling that's what he's trying to achieve.
"now is preferable," he nods with a determined look on his face, squeezing your wrist in affection. "please," he adds with a pout when you hesitate for a brief second.
sighing, you take a few steps towards him, watching as he perks up. "you know i can't say no when you look at me like that," you say as you drop your luggage to wrap both hands around his shoulders.
"like what?" there's a shadow of a smirk on his lips as he pulls you in by the waist, pressing you into his chest. "with my handsome face and charming eyes?" his eyes soften when you let out a chuckle. "ever think that's why i look at you like that?"
"oh, i know. you sly devil." you say with a cheeky smile. you watch as he closes his eyes, leaning in to press a kiss that has your heart beating out of your chest. "i love you," you mumble as he leans back, his hands retreating back into his pockets, fingers playing with something under the fabric.
"i love you too," he nods with a lovesick grin, lifting a hand to push you towards the lift. "now go before you actually miss your flight."
his sweet smile and wave are the last thing you see before the elevator door closes, and you finally leave for hawaii.
bonus:
"hi, baby." your laugh fills the airport as kaiser lifts you into a hug, his eyes twinkling, and his hand tight around your waist. you hum, following his lead as he helps with your luggage. "did you miss me?"
"do you even have to ask?" he rolls his eyes at your teasing tone, nuzzling his nose against yours. "let's go home. i want you all to myself for the next few days."
"few days?" you raise an eyebrow, leaning your hand on his shoulder as he leads you out of the airport. "what about germany?"
"eh," he shrugs with a mischievous smile, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on it. "wanted to relax a bit more before heading back."
he eyes your other hand and the small bag in it, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before asking, "what's in the bag?"
"oh right!" jostling, you take your hand from his and dig into the bag, pulling out its content. "i got you a panda!" you say with a grin, showing the black-and-white plush doll to his face.
"and the most important detail!" you tug at the label on the panda's hip, stretching it for him to read. "imported from china, babe."
the rest of the airport stares in confusion as kaiser laughs like a mad man.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock fluff#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser imagines#kaiser x reader#kaiser imagines#michael kaiser fluff#michael kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser x you#bllk x y/n#blue lock x you#bllk x you#bllk x reader#blue lock x y/n#kaiser fluff
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Icarus Has Fallen
paring: Azriel x Reader | type: fluff | words: 5,4k | warnings: none
playlist: can't help falling in love | la vie en rose | moving along | my heart will go on | I think I’m in love | you and I enchanted;
this story is dedicated to two of the most amazing people on this app @brekkershadowsinger @moonlightazriel thank you for all your help and support and love (now you know why I asked for the songs)💛
Icarus has fallen.
It was the sun that made Icarus fall, and it is a female as bright and beautiful as daylight that made Azriel fall. In love.
Deeply. Head over heels. No ground in sight.
He has never expected this sort of feeling. Not after Mor. Not after Elain.
But the first moment he lays eyes on you, the second he spots you, splashing around in the large marble mountain in front of the castle Azriel is gone. His gaze remains fixed on you all the way to the castle, not once averting his eyes. His is so focused on the sort of beauty he has never ever seen before, he doesn’t even realise that Cassian is talking to him. He doesn’t register what Rhysand answers, or what his High Lady adds. Everything around him fades into insignificance, becoming absolutely unimportant. There is only one thing on his mind - only one thing he can focus on and that is you and figuring out a way to get to know you. To learn your name. To find out who exactly you are.
He is only ripped out of his gazing by a deep male voice greeting the High Lord of Night and his entourage, including Azriel. He has to shake his head, his shadows calming a little around his shoulders.
"Welcome to the Day Court,“ Helion greets, his toga flowing around his strong thighs, his arms spread wide to welcome the visitors from Night to his court. Bowing their heads, they return the greeting and fall in line with the High Lord of Day who lets a casual eye run over each of them. "Where is Morrison?" he asks, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity, but also a hint of amusement. In the past, this question would have enraged Azriel. Not anymore. Not for a long time. He knows that Mor and him…there would never be anything between them. He knows this now.
Rhys answers him that she has business to deal with, and couldn't manage to come here. Helion accepts this answer with a smile and says, "Please, follow me. Allow me to show you my throne room where the discussions will be held."
Azriel’s gaze, one last time, moves over his shoulder, craning his neck quite a bit to catch one last look at you. You are engage in happy chatter with who he guesses are your friends, hair and the thin white gown that is damp from the water, leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. His breath catches and—
"If you keep staring any longer, you might break your neck, Azzy.“ Cassian fetches his best friend back to reality, nudging him playfully in the ribs and colour blooms high on the shadowsinger’s cheeks when he meets the general’s gaze. "Wh-at?" he stammers, trying to pretend he wasn’t doing anything, but obviously Cassian isn’t stupid and sees right through his bluffing.
"I wasn’t staring," Azriel growls, his forehead lying in furrows.
"I am only teasing you, Az,! Cassian adds when he watches Azriel’s expression, the cold and indifference creeping back into his features. The general chuckles and returns his gaze to his own mate, his large hand holding Nesta’s tightly. "But you totally were."
Azriel tries to ignore his friend, shaking his head slightly, shoulders squared, posture straight as he follows the others into the big throne room of the Day Court castle. He wasn't staring. He was…observing.
Everyone gathers around a large class table, the meeting starting a moment after, but Azriel is unfocused. Helion says something about Koschei, Azriel thinks. His High Lord adds something, and so does his High Lady. But his brain doesn't allow him to participate. Or is it is heart?
Yes, he found females attractive in the past. Many females. But it has always been different. He has never been so enthralled, so enchanted by someone he hasn’t even properly met. He has only seen you for a few minutes and—
"Tell Lady Y/N to come here. She should bring the Book of Death Gods and Dark Forces.“ Helion waves of his sentry and then focuses back on the conversation with Rhys.
Azriel swallows thickly, the name, it has struck a cord in his heart. It sounds oddly familiar and he has no idea why. Like his heart has heard it before, remembers it, almost like it evokes memories deep within him… Within his soul.
The discussions continue, Azriel contributes with the occasional dip of his chin. He can’t focus, his mind is too…he doesn’t actually know. But somehow, seeing you, has pulled a lever in his head. In his heart. In his soul and focusing on anything else then the sudden pull he feels in his chest becomes a sheer impossibility. He has never felt this tug before…it is a wholly new feeling that renders him dumb.
But he has to focus. This is important. Not only for the Night Court but for all of Pythian.
Azriel brings up a hand and folds it over his chin, trying to listen in, his shadows perched on his shoulders, gathering information.
"So what we know about Koschei is very little, but I truly hope that the ancient book in my possession can give us more answers.! Helion releases a loud sigh, his expression concentrated, posture rather stiff. He shakes his head, swirling pits of worry in his eyes.
He leans back in his chair and turns his head, acknowledging movement at the threshold. He lifts his gaze, "Ah!" he says, and waves you in with two of his fingers. "Come in, my lady."
Azriel, simultaneously to the High Lord of Day, focuses his gaze on the female figure appearing in the door - hair still damp, but the dress a new one. A dry one.
His breath catches, heart skipping one or the other beat and if he hadn’t been sitting down he knows his knees would have given in right in this moment.
As you enter the throne room, your curious eyes scan the room, taking the people gathered there. You curtsey to not only greet your High Lord but also his guests. His guests from the Night Court. Your gaze eventually settles on Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, engaged in conversation with Rhysand, High Lord of the Night, the opposite solar court to your own.
Next to him is his High Lady, Feyre Archeron, the first High Lady Pythian has ever seen. She smiles at you, polite and kind, and you dip your chin at her. And next to her…you find a male, his beauty not comparable to any you have ever seen before. He is the most beautiful male that exists in all of Pythian, you know this, and you are captured by him. His expression is cold and indifferent, but his eyes of hazel, sparkle when they meet yours. His composed demeanour seems to falter as his eyes lock with yours.
For a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still. Azriel is struck by your presence—your grace, your elegance, your beauty, your brightness. Could you be the light to his darkness, the sun in his endless gloomy days.
He's at a loss for words, captivated by you. It's as if the world around him dims, leaving only you illuminated in his vision. You are sunshine, and life.
You want to look away, focus on the task at hands - delivering the book, but you can’t. Your heart starts to sing inside of you, begging you to draw nearer to the shadowy male, to ask for his name, to get to know him, to—
"Lady Y/N, thank you so much for coming,“ Helion reaches out his hand. "I see you brought the book I requested.“
Your footsteps echo on the marble floor in the throne room as you approach your High Lord, finally averting your gaze form the beautiful male, holding the Book of Death Gods and Dark Forces in your shaky hands. He holds out his hand for the book, his attention momentarily drawn away from the discussion at hand. "Meet my guests, Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court and his High Lady, Feyre Archeron. Joining them, Azriel, and Cassian, the two best Illyrian warriors that there are.“
You smile politely, trying to greet each person again with the bow of your head. "It's my pleasure," you says, and then claim the seat on Helion's left, helping him open the large book and find the right page and then you start to read together, helping Helion and Rhysand filter out the important information (you are after all one of the head scholars of the Day Court, your wisdom and knowledge big).
Azriel’s gaze lingers on you. Gods, you are so stunning, he barely knows how to keep his breathing steady, how to avoid the constant subtle glances into your direction - those stolen glances every now and then that make his heart beat faster.
He wants to meet your gaze, accidentally, not make it too obvious he is staring. But you never deign him another glance, not once you look at him again, fully focused on the task at hand - going through the large book and some extra piles of parchment. Some other scholars, both young and old, have joined in as well, searching for any kind of important information.
Over time sentries deliver more books and papers, all splayed out over the table until nothing of the glass was visible anymore. Your delicate fingers traces over the written words and every now and then you bring a hand up to brush back a loose strand of hair that has fallen over your shoulder.
Azriel is fully enthralled by you - never ever has he seen such a beauty before, you are breathtaking and stunning. He doesn’t know why he is feeling so strongly, why the sight of you made his heart skip one or the other beat and why there is a sudden pull, a tug on his chest and then it hits him like slap.
Might this…could this be the bond? Could you be his mate. It would explain why one look at you was enough to pull out the rug from under his feet.
You work for hours, discussion everything that is noted about the old Death Gods. Azriel is unfocused and he knows it. He wants to fight against it but he can't — like some force is restricting him from it. Like it only wants to make him focus on you.
He doesn't even fully notice when the discussion comes to an end, not even registering what the outcome exactly is.
"Don’t you trust my strength that I can carry all those books and papers back alone, High Lord?" you ask with a hint of teasing in your voice. Your eyes sparkle while they hold Helion's gaze.
Helion chuckles lowly in answer, smirking. "I absolutely believe in your strength, but I am also a gentleman and wish that someone helps you with the books, so—"
"I can help." At least six pairs of surprised and wide-open eyes dart to Azriel. He slowly gets up, right now not minding the attention he normally hate so much. "I will help you with the , if I may."
Lips that have formerly parted due to your astonishment, form a smile - bright and happy. "You absolutely may, I appreciate it a lot."
You are strong enough to carry the books alone, you most definitely are. But, you have this absolutely breathtaking male offering his help, you would be a fool to say no. Maybe you can get to know him a little better, maybe you will talk on your way to the Grand Library - whatever it will be, you will spend time with him and that makes you feel happy, and excited.
So, Azriel gets up and walks to you, picking up some books (the heavier ones, leaving the lighter ones for you). Everyone is watching you, surprised about the scene unfolding itself in front of them, but before it gets to uncomfortable, Cassian manages to pull everyone into a conversation, wanting to help his best friend out.
Azriel is thankful, yet does not let it show, his sole focus on you. He nods his head at you when he has a tight grip on all the large books, signalling you he is ready to leave, and you should lead the way.
Once you are out of the door, out of earshot, Azriel exhales loudly and finally opens his mouth. "I‘m Azriel," the shadowsinger introduces himself, voice quivering the slightest bit, his palms so clammy all of a sudden, he would love to wipe them down his trousers weren't he holding the many books.
You turn your head and grin at him. A soft chuckle escapes you, "I know, Helion introduced you earlier."
Colour starts to bloom high on his defined cheeks, embarrassment passing over his features, so you quickly add, "But I am very pleased to meet you personally. It’s my pleasure, Azriel. I am Y/N."
"Such a beautiful name," he whispers. Perfect for such a beautiful female, he wants to add, but doesn't do. Not yet. That would not be appropriate. He barely knows you after all.
"So you are head scholar?" Azriel asks when you set out down a long pathway, at the end a large towering building and Azriel guesses it is the Grand Library.
"Exactly. But I am not the only one. The High Lord has a Head Scholar in every library of his court." You explain a little more while you walk over to the big library, adding some random details that you love to share and he loves to hear. Azriel is interested in the information you share with him and that warms your heart - no one has ever truly cared about those things.
From time to time, you find him marvelling at our surroundings, the large sunflower fields or the Pegasi that trot by, neighing and bowing their heads.
You set out for the last part of the path, pebbles crunching beneath your feet, creating a soft melody in the same rhythm as the beating of your hearts. You tell him that High Lord Helion himself helped build this Library, and it took them over a century to finish it.
Azriel gasps when he takes in the whole expanse of the gigantic Library, crafted from marble and glass, reflecting the sunlight and towering over him - not in an intimidating way, more in an impressive way.
"Welcome to the Grand Library, you tell Azriel upon entering, smiling him and his astonished face.
"Stunning," he breathes, his gaze brushing you. He is only partly talking about the Library.
"Where to?" Azriel asks and you look around, unsure. You wish he could help you put all the books away, but you don’t want to keep him here for too long.
"Just on my desk, if you please." You smile and tilt you chin into the direction of said desk. Azriel bows his head and follows without a word, shadows swirling around him, almost like they are dancing to a melody.
"The shadows. What are—?"
"I’m shadowsinger." He turns his head to you, a lopsided smile on his lips.
"Ah," you answer. "And what exactly does a shadowsinger do?"
He somehow looks happy over this question, happy to explain it to you. You listen in awe, his shadows skittering down his arms and reaching out to you, almost like they want to brush over your skin. Or pull you closer. To their owner. To—
"I think I should leave now." Azriel clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to leave. Not yet. But he has too. First of all, they need to return to the Night Court and secondly, his heart is beating so rapidly and he has been looking at you for so long he doesn’t know how long he can survive without his knees giving him.
You have changed something inside of him and he needs space and time to makes sense of it. He needs some solitude to order his thoughts.
"That’s alright," you say, a pang of sadness sparking in your chest. You want to spend more time with him, get to know him better, but your knees feel wobbly only when his gaze brushes you. You don't know what it is, but your are not dumb and suspect a larger force behind the emotions boiling inside of you. Could this be the Mother's doing. Could you and Azriel be connected through more than just attraction?
The shadowsinger starts to back away, slowly, hesitatingly walking toward the large entrance door, wings tucked in behind his broad back.
"Thank you for offering your help with the books," you call after him. You meet his gaze.
Azriel bows his head. "Any time you need me, I am here for you."
Cheeks turning rosy, and your heart skipping a beat, you place the parchments on the desk in front of you. You draw in a deep inhale, warmth spreading from your chest throughout your whole body.
Azriel is almost out the door, his footsteps hollowing through the large, empty library.
"Azriel."
You bite down on your lower lip. He halts on the threshold, one scarred hand braced on the door frame. It seems like his posture straightens and the shadows on his shoulders halt in their swirling, waiting for what you are about to ask.
"Yes." He turns to you, a smile on his lips, hope etched upon his features.
"Will I see you again?" Tension leaves your body the moment you voice your question and see his expression.
Azriel seems surprised about this question, even his shadows have stilled, no longer swirling around him. "Do you want to see me again?"
You grin and brace your hands on your hips. "I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to."
He smiles, yet doesn’t answer immediately.
"I would love to see you again," he eventually says, voice tinged with a rarely-there happiness. "Maybe we can work together again any time soon? There is still a lot to find out." He tilts his chin at said book, the one he carried back here.
Your heart flutters and so does Azriel‘s, heartbeat increasing, chest swelling with an emotion he has never felt before.
"I think that is a great idea."
He meets your gaze, eyes locking, the promise of seeing each other strong and steadfast between your hearts. "See you soon, Y/N."
You smile politely. "See you soon, Azriel."
His name on your lips - nothing has ever sounded more beautiful in Azriel’s ears and he can’t avoid the grin, reaching from one ear to the other. An expression hardly anyone has ever seen on his face. With a fluttering heart, he lets door fall close behind him, exhaling loudly.
He can’t quite say what has happened and why it hit him so hard when he barely knows you, but he is falling - heavily, deeply. Madly.
Will I see you again?
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"I would like to show you something, my favourite place. Then we can continue with the book. But right now, we deserve a break."
You are hopeful, really wanting to spend time with him alone. You and Azriel, joined by other scholars, have been dealing with several books surrounding the topic of Death Gods for hours, your necks and backs aching already.
"Are we allowed a break?" Azriel asks, raising his brow. He wants to say yes so desperately, but times is pressing and you need answers soon.
"Yes, because working too hard for too long without a moment of rest is not beneficial for making progress."
You have a point, Azriel decides. He closes his book and with a contented sigh leans back in his chair. "What do you want to show me?"
"A special place here in the Day Court. It’s not far from here, we can return shortly."
You step from one foot to the other, impatiently, because you really want to show him your favourite place. You know he will like it.
Azriel’s heart is beating a little faster when he gets up, surrounding the desk he was sitzing behind, spending hours being bent over paperwork. You want to show him something?
He is only a political guest so you showing him part of your court feels like a huge honour.
Heading towards the large marble doors, Azriel follows, his breath catching when his eyes follow the sway of your hips, how gracefully you glide over the ground. He has to shake his head, the tug on his chest so strong he worries his heart might rip right through his rib cage.
And he isn’t the only one feeling it. You need a moment, closing your eyes, his closeness doing something to your body. To your heart. And you very soul.
You close the door, waiting for Azriel to step away, to move, but he stays, his eyes running over you. They drop to your hand and then meet your own. He seems to hold his breath for a small moment, then inhales deeply, eyes still locked with yours, and parts his lips. "Can I hold your hand?"
You know that primarily he poses his question because of his scars. Maybe he has been rejected in the past, or he is genuinely worried you may feel disgusted?
But there is no reason for it, you like his hands - they are big and unique. And you don’t care about the scars, not in the way he thinks. If someone caused him the scars, if someone hurt him, you care because you want to make them pay - severely. With their death.
"You never have to ask for something like that," you say, voice tinged with empathy.
You extend your hand, grasping his gently, fingers easily sliding between his, intertwining them. "Your hands are so big," you tell him with a grin and it even draws a small smile to the shadowsinger‘s face. A beautiful smile, eyes glowing like you have never seen them before. "And our hands fit perfectly."
Azriel assesses your intertwined hands and with a sigh and the deep rise and fall of his chest, he eventually says, "They do. Like they were made for each other."
Your cheeks turn rosy, and you search his gaze. "Maybe they were," you whisper, voice tinged with a sheepish tone. Slowly you set out, one step after the other and Azriel follows, both silent. Both of you are too stunned by sensation sparking between your palms to speak - it feels like heat and tingles erupt, almost like lightning zips between your bodies.
You walk up a small pathway behind the Grand Library, through a canopy of large, towering trees, light dancing on every single leaf, and filtering through the branches. Your gaze moves over your surroundings, sometimes touching Azriel. He seems amazed, and to be liking what is presented to him which makes you happy.
You give his hand a gentle squeeze, just a small gesture but it makes his heart flutter, and a smile appear on his lips. Birds song in the distance, accompanying the rustling of leaves and the crunch of pebbles beneath your shoes. You inhale deeply when you come to a halt.
You are atop a small hill, overlooking most of the city below, and Helion‘s palace in the midst of it. Large fields of sunflowers stretch in front of you, Pegasi trotting on the paths in between.
"I think it is my favourite place. Here in the Day Court I mean." You turn your head to the side, already finding Azriel looking at you. His eyes shimmer with an emotion you can’t quite place - is it love? Admiration? Anticipation?
You smile at him, and he mirrors your expression. "I can see why." His deep voice is barely above a whisper, caressing your skin like feather. "It is beautiful." He pauses, but his lips part again, like he wants to continue. Azriel’s eyes run over your face, scanning every small detail, memorising it.
"Just like you," he finally whispers, and now you can see love sparkling vividly in his eyes. He lifts his hand, fingers halting mere inches from your face, "May I?"
You dip your chin and in a featherlight caress, the shadowsinger brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your pointed ear. "I’ve never seen beauty like yours before, Y/N,“ Azriel says, his tone sincere. "And before you try to object, it is the truth." The corners of his lip quirk upwards and he smiles down at you. "You are a bright ray of sunshine, and with your smile alone you could light up the darkest night. Your beauty rivals that of the sun herself."
That has strung a cord in your heart and you feel how tears brim your eyes, the back of your mouth starting to ache. You don’t want to cry. Not right now, but the compliment was just too beautiful - no one has ever said something like that to you.
"How fortunate that I thought the same about you when I first saw you - that you are the most beautiful male I‘ve ever seen," you whisper, voice a little hoarse. You lift your hand, resting it atop his, your soft palm touching his scars.
"One day you will tell me the story of how you got those?"
"I will," Azriel whispers, a tang of gloominess filling his voice.
"But for now, I want you to know that they do nothing to diminish your beauty, or your worth. You are beautiful and perfect the way you are. Scars or no scars, you are the most beautiful male I have ever laid eyes upon."
Bouncing up on your toes, you bring your lips closer to his, almost kissing him. "You asked me if you could hold my hand, now I am asking you if I can kiss you." Your soft breath tingles his lips and a low, amused chuckle leaves Azriel. "Please," he breathes, eyes fluttering shut. You connect your lips with his.
It is a delicate kiss, lips moving in a graceful dance of tenderness and longing.
The sun's warmth brushes your skin, intensifying the sensation, as if the Mother herself looks down on you, happy about this union. Time seems to slow around you, everything but Azriel and the feel of his lips against yours, fading into insignificance.
Azriel’s thumb gentle caresses your cheek, his tongue hesitantly gliding over your lip, asking for entrance which you grant him. The first stroke of his tongue against yours, elicits a gasp from you and you have to smile, pulling back from the kiss.
"That was—"
"I think we are mates!" The words just pour out of his mouth and he can’t stop them before they are already there, hanging in the air between you. He has lost control, his soul won the upper hand, and he couldn't stop his mouth from revealing the bond.
Everything stops, even your heart and breathing. Your mouth is agape with surprise, and slight shock about this sudden and unexpected revelation. Yes, you have felt this tug on your chest as well, but…
It still surprises you to learn about him feeling the same. So, it is truly the bond. Air gets caught in your throat and your heart hammers against your rib cage.
"I…I—"
"I am sorry," Azriel admits and shakes his head, "I shouldn’t have said anything."
He wants to step away, but you don’t let him.
"Don‘t be." You smile up at him. "I was just…the bond is a huge thing, and I…you just surprised me, maybe even overwhelmed me with your revelation. It was so out of the blue." You step into him, arms slinging around his torso. He has gone stiff and you want some of the former light to return to his eyes. "I probably need a moment to order my thoughts and realise what it all means, but I am happy it is you. I’ve been feeling a pull towards you as well, Azriel, and it all makes sense now." You press a soft kiss to his pectoral.
His arms curl tighter around you, holding you against him, marvelling at the feeling of your bodies melding. Not only your hands are made for one another, but also your bodies. You are equals, one half of the same coin.
"You don't mind it is me?" he asks of a moment and you can feel the sad thrumming of his heart through his chest. You tip your head back, trying to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on an undefined point in the distance. "No," you say, voice soft, "I could never be disappointed about that."
He finally lowers his gaze, eyes brushing yours. You smile and continue, "It might take us some time to figure everything out, to really get to know one another. To learn everything about the other person."
He bows his head. His shadows caress your upper arms, your face.
"I don't want to rush anything. I want to give us time to get to know the other. I don't want to give the bond the upper hand and make us forget about the simple things of falling in love."
"I don't want that either. I want to learn everything about you, Y/N, before we accept the bond." His lips brush your forehead. "But I already call myself the luckiest male in all of Prythian."
A grin appears on his lips, so bright, that now he is the one whose beauty rivals the sun.
The shadowsinger's chest heaves with a deep inhale, his chest brushing against yours, hearts beating in the same rhythm.
"I guess, Day and Night have at last found each other." You quip, nuzzling your face into his solid chest, his warmth so soothing to your soul, his scent bewitching your senses.
A bemused chuckle leaves Azriel as he tips your head back and gazes into your eyes, but soon the happiness fades from his face, a hint of worry and coldness reaching you through the bond.
"There is a chance for our love? Our bond?" Azriel‘s forehead lies in furrows, his chest aching fiercely all of a sudden. He hasn't considered this before, but you are from two different places of Prythian.
His throat works on a swallow before he continues. "We are from two different courts. Day and Night. We are—"
"Mates! Our souls belong together. So do our hearts. And when two souls belong together, there is always a chance for love."
You nip at his lower lip. "We will figure out a way to make it work, but we will stay together. We will be a couple. Our mating bond is stronger than the border of our courts!"
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
A loud chuckle parts your lips, your head tipped backwards, Azriel’s broad hand splayed out on your lower belly, fingers relentlessly tickling and teasing you.
"I love you, have I told you that already today?"
"Not yet, I think" you quip, giggling into his biceps.
Azriel leans in quickly, lips on your neck. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." Azriel’s hot breath fans your skin and leaves goosebumps in its wake. "More than my own life, more than anything in this world." He nips at your skin. "My mate."
"I love the sound of it," you whispers, fingers stroking through his silken strands. "I love that I can call myself yours. And that I call you mine." You grin, even though he can’t see it, face still buried in the crook of your neck.
"I love being called yours, my sunshine."
Azriel‘s hand slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing gently and then he lets himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling you with him, your head resting atop his chest. He has arrived and his heart sings happily within his chest.
The sun burned Icarus. Made him fall.
But Azriel is not afraid to get burned again. He is safe with you. Always. You won't burn him. And he won’t fall. Not in the literal sense of the word.
In love, though? He has fallen massively, deeply. He loves you with every part of his body, truly and fully.
You are his mate. His equal. His home.
~~~~~~
tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire
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how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight
gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.
he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.
and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.
you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.
so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.
and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.
sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.
"last night was crazy, huh?"
"..."
"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."
"..."
okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!
plan A--commence!
naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.
all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.
an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!
he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-
oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.
there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.
no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!
galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.
20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.
"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?
he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!
he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.
"hey."
"..." great.
"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."
for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.
"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."
"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."
you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.
"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?
"absolutely."
plan C: success!
who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!
#jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#headcanon#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo fanfic#gojo x gender neutral reader#gojo x y/n#reblog?#please?#this was so much fun to write#i love gojo i just want to punch him (lovingly)#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader
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Demon Brothers - Flirty (Male) Reader
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
So! While writing this ask I've very quickly figured out that I can't flirt for my life. Thus; this ask was translated into Headcannons instead of my original plan of a split between Headcannons and a Oneshot. I hope you enjoy this because that was a half hour of embarrassment that I can't get back. — Benny🐰
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☕ You're either very brave or very very stupid; there is no in between. The audacity that you have to flirt with the avatar of pride: Lucifer himself is absolutely appalling. This poor overworked demon goes through full 5 minute factory reset just to understand what the fuck you just said to him.
☕ Stop. Please, just have a normal conversation with him. It can be about literally anything— A dream you had last night, the breakfast this morning, Beel's Fangol practice, your homework, how you think he should send Mammon to rehab for his obvious Kleptomaniac tendencies... Lucifer will even indulge in speaking about those weird captioned images and short videos that you call memes; just, please... he understands that he's handsome, but make it quick; he has paperwork to do.
☕ Do you really think that you can flirt your way out of a punishment? First Asmodeus and Diavolo (after Asmodeus spent some time with him, Diavolo attempted to flirt his way out of his Princely duties to take a few hour break) and now you? Goodness, he's surrounded by idiots. You're going to give poor Lucifer gray hairs, you know.
☕ Lucifer may let you bargain your way out of facing his wrath, though. He finds the image of you being ripped from your flirtatious facade and forced to think about things that you could offer him as collateral as he patiently taps his fingers on his desk to be on of the most amusing thing he's seen in almost 200 years. He won't lie; your nervous figiting is pretty entertaining too.
☕ Though... you might want to be a little more careful going forward, lest you catch the avatar of pride on a day that he's particularly stressed; he might just take you up on one of your occasionally more... lewd flirtatious remarks. Perhaps he'll put an end to your flirtatious ways with a well deserved spanking? Lucifer is sure you wouldn't complain, given your very clear attraction to him.
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💰 You broke him; the minute those words left your lips he went completely offline. Of course; Mammon thought that you were just making fun of him at first and tried to see of you'd slip up and insult him like so many others have. However, you only doubled down and now, the poor, flustered avatar of greed can barely look you in the eyes anymore.
💰 Truthfully, Mammon can't help but compare you to Asmodeus with how seem to need to add some sort of flirtatious comment into every sentence. Though you're not as dramatic and not at all cruel like his younger brother. He doesn't see your flirting as a bad thing but he can't help but get jealous when you start flirting with his brothers, Barbatos, Lord Diavolo and that angel. You're only supposed to do that sort of thing with him! He's your first man, dammit!
💰 Flirting your way out of being roped into a money making scheme? Pretty unlikely, believe it or not. When Mammon gets a hint of money he's chasing it and no amout of compliments will get you out of being dragged along for the ride. However, you might be able to flirt your way into getting him to take all the blame when the plan inevitably fails. All you need to do is lay it on thick and he's sold. This demon is madly in love with you, he will do anything you ask and more.
💰 While your first man is okay with taking the fall for you in any situation; he expects you to nurse his sore body back to health after hanging from the rafters for 6 hours again. You'll convince Lucifer to give him back Goldie too, won't you? Of course you would, Mammon doesn't work for free, after all.
💰 Mammon may or may not practice pick-up lines in his bathroom mirror. While he's confident in the solitude of his bathroom; once he's face to face with you his anxiety skyrockets and he stumbles over his words like a drunk man trying to navigate a dark room. You have no idea what you do to him, do you?
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🎮 Sorry, he's dead. Unfortunately, you had to go and flirt with this yucky otaku demon and he keeled over and died from overheating. Leviathan blushed so violently that he liquefied his brain and he fainted right then and there, bonking his head on various objects on his way down. Ah... poor guy...
🎮 Please, please, spare this poor man, he cannot handle it. Leviathan is too precious so go easy on him or he may just never leave that little hidey hole he calls a bedroom ever again. He's not brave enough to face you when you're like that! You may be his Henry but it feels like he's gone in too deep now, he can't even look at his beloved Ruri-Chan like he used to because you wrestled your way into her place! Just what the hell are you doing to him!?
🎮 You want to escape one of his long winded rants on TSL? All you need to do is give Leviathan a lovestruck gaze and his brain is fried; then you can make your escape. Fat Chance! As if he'd ever willing let you opt out of letting him share his one of his passions with you! Malfunctioning or not; he'll keep on talking; whether it's just to continue the conversation or to distract himself from you, we still don't know. You'll let him right? Or... do you think he's just a gross otaku afterall...?
🎮 If you do ever get into trouble with Lucifer for whatever reason; just pop into Levi's room and hide under the blankets in his bathtub while he's distracted by whatever game he's playing at the time. His older brother will never find out and neither will he until he stumbles upon you when he's feeling tired after an excruciatingly long raid. Of course, even after he finds you, he won't tell a soul.
🎮 Leviathan may or may not be hoarding various cosplays of characters with flirtatious personalities that just so happen to be in your size. How he got your measurements for the alleged cosplays is information that he will take to the grave. (He actually just asked Asmodeus but he prefers to seem mysterious about for some reason...)
🐍•♡•🐍•♡•🐍•♡•🐍•♡•🐍•♡•🐍•♡•🐍•♡•🐍
🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄
📚 Are you sure you wanna do that? Do you really want to take that risk? Truthfully, Satan knows all he has to do is amusedly raise a brow and you'll be quite as a mouse. But he finds it funny that you try to hide your fear of him behind that meaningless banter that you keep spewing. He's almost immune to your antics due to his abundant knowledge of human psychology and the time that he's spent observing you... almost.
📚 You'll have to either say something very shocking or tie it in with cats somehow in order to have an effect on Satan. He hangs around Asmodeus far too often (a personal headcannon of mine is that the two are actually very close) to be very influenced by flirtatious or suggestive remarks too much anymore. Usually he'll either raise a brow at you or just send you a teasing smirk. Though if you play into his vast knowledge and offer him a risqué fact he doesn't know, he'll be very interested.
📚 Wanna try your hand at flirting your way out of being on the receiving end of one if his wrathful outbursts? Are you a fucking idiot? Do you have no self preservation instincts at all?? You best get to steppin'; or else Satan will rip your face right off in his blind rage. To be honest, if you do go and try that, you deserve what you get in return for your stupidity.
📚 If you ever get into trouble with Lucifer, all you need to do is go to Satan and he'll harbor you in his room so long as you keep your hands to yourself. Make sure to let him know whenever you plan on flirting your way out of one of his oldest brother's punishments; he'll bring himself some popcorn. Not only will he get to see you embarrass yourself, he'll also get to see you annoy Lucifer; it's a 2 for 1 deal!
📚 If you catch him in a really good mood, Satan might just flirt back at you. Resting his chin on his palm and looking at you with the softest eyes as he lets loose words so sweet you'd think he was made of sugar. He can be really suave when he wants to, he just has to be in the right mood, ya'know.
🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄•♡•🦄
🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂
🛍 Look, I'll be blunt; Asmodeus hangs out with literal sex demons on the daily, he's heard everything. He's the avatar of lust; he is unfazed. So when I tell you that this man immediately thinks your just wanting to either have sex or something close to it, I'm serious. There is no if, and, but or in between; you guys are either doing the sideways tango or making out. If you don't want that, don't bother flirting with him.
🛍 Asmodeus is 100% unfazed by your flirting. No matter how sweet or raunchy you get, you'll never pull a big reaction from him. It'll mostly just be little hums of acknowledgement, his well rehearsed smile or bedroom eyes. I don't know what you were expecting, to be honest.
🛍 You think you can flirt your way out of doing anything with Asmo? Haha, no, you silly little human, you.~ He'll give you an airy little giggle and then drag you along to either his bedroom or whatever place that he needed to take you originally. Sometimes he'll strait up ignore you and act like you hadn't even said anything at all. Other times he'll use his charms and make you feel guilty for even thinking about opting out of spending time with him. It's a lose, lose situation; or a win, win depending on how much you like the guy.
🛍 You think he'll let you flirt your way out of one of Lucifer's punishments? Absolutely not! Or, at least, not without him giving you a few pointers first. Truth be told, Asmodeus thinks you have almost no rizz (he still loves you regardless~♡) and as the avatar of lust, he feels like it's his job to fix that! Or... at least try.
🛍 Truthfully, Asmodeus will keep you at an arm's length (for a while until he figures out your true intentions) like he does all of his sex demon friends. He believes you only want him for what they want him for; his body and looks. He won't ever show it but it does take a toll on him. He can breath a sigh of relief when he figures out what you really want from him.
🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂•♡•🦂
🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰
🍔 It's like talking to a brick wall; Beelzebub doesn't get the implications of your words. And why would he? He's far too innocent and thick headed (in the sweetest way possible) to understand something like that. Why do you even want to flirt with this precious man? Are you trying to corrupt him, you heathen!?
🍔 If you want a flustered Beel, you'll have to drop the flirting all together. Say what you need to say in clear message so he can't confuse any meanings or insinuations even if he tried to. And boom. You'll get a cute, flustered giant with flushed cheeks and an angelic smile. He'll be like a school girl with a crush; shyly fiddling with his fingers and giddily shuffling in place.
🍔 Trying to flirt your way out of sharing your food with Beelzebub? Don't. Give him a portion, you stingy bitch. Flirting aside— how could have the heart to say no to this man, you monster!? Back on topic; flirting will just fly right over his head, so I wouldn't even bother. Just give him some of your food, it's not that hard. You'll get a cute, grinning avatar of gluttony out of it, so what's that harm?
🍔 You're trying to flirt your way out of a punishment from Lucifer? Well... Beel doesn't wanna make his eldest brother mad... but he also doesn't like the idea of not helping you when you need it. He's so torn! What should he do! Unfortunately for you, the poor man will be so caught up in whether he should help you or not, that Lucifer has already found you and now you're hanging from the rafters. Please don't be mad at him, he didn't mean to ignore you, it was just a really hard decision for him!
🍔 When Beelzebub "flirts", he usually offers you some sort of food item that he really wanted to eat. He'll take occasional glances to see if you've eaten it or not and to see your reaction to it so he knows what you like in the future. Accept it! Don't you dare turn down a gift from this sunshine, you'll make him sad!
🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰•♡•🪰
🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄
🌌 Hey, so... you remember how he killed you via snapping your spine like a toothpick. I really wouldn't recommend flirting with him in any capacity. I don't think Belphegor would appreciate you waking him up to flirt or if he's already awake, which is a rarity in it's self, he'd rather you be quite so he can nap. He's just here to use you as a pillow, not to hear you run your mouth.
🌌 The best time to "flirt" with this slightly homicidal demon is when he decides that you deserve to take a nap with him. (Read as; when he decides to sleep on your bed and use you as a pillow.) However; said flirting must be soft and sweet. Gentle praises in a soft voice. Comb your fingers through his hair. Belphie will drift off to sleep with small smile on his face. Expect him to be in a very flowery mood when he wakes up again.
🌌 You want to attempt to flirt your way out of stargazing in the attic for the nth time in a row? Sure! You do that! In fact, Belphegor thinks that your bones are looking mighty crushable right now. Don't get too ahead of yourself, he's not above physically holding onto you and keeping you in the attic until he's satisfied. You're not getting out of this one, hun.
🌌 On the run from Lucifer? Belphegor's got you covered! Just head on up to the attic while he goes to Satan for a hex he can place on the door to keep the prideful demon away. Anything to fuck with Lucifer will have him come running, so keep him informed, okay?
🌌 On some rare occasions, when you and Belphie are alone together, he can be real sweet to you. Calling you something romantic like his north star or something of the like. However, he quickly ruins the mood with an obnoxious yawn. Whether he does that on purpose or not is up to you.
🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄•♡•🐄
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
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#male reader#obey me#obey me x reader#obey me x male reader#obey me lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer x male reader#obey me mammon#mammon x reader#mammon x male reader#obey me leviathan#leviathan x reader#leviathan x male reader#obey me satan#satan x reader#satan x male reader#obey me asmodeus#asmodeus x reader#asmodeus x male reader#obey me beelzebub#beelzebub x reader#beelzebub x male reader#obey me belphegor#belphegor x reader#belphegor x male reader#hunn1e bunn1e's ask box#ask box#answered anon#answered asks#mystery anon
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GODS … mature one - shot | pt. one
pairing : emperor!san x princess!f!reader
genre : slight historical fiction, mature, dark, arranged marriage, second chance, slow burn, eventually smut
word count : 3.5k
warnings : language, blood / body gore, death / murder, hints of dismemberment, san is evil, name calling (stupid girl)
special birthday suffering tag : @sanjoongie please accept this as an early birthday present from your braincell
note : inspired by san's performance video that literally wrecked all of us. none of are safe from his power and this proved it. also this was getting a little too long so i decided to split it up into at least two parts
after your life is unrightfully taken from you, you take this second chance as a way to finally survive and make a difference for yourself. you were tired of being a prisoner and feeling unwanted.
the dining hall was empty except for you and a few guards and servants. not another soul sitting at the long dining table despite it being able to sit twenty people easily, if not more.
it bothered you that you ate alone. every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner was by yourself. honestly, a lot of things bother you, but you were never allowed to say what was on your mind. it bothers you that you eat alone, that you have no one to talk to, that your family willingly gave you up to some demon emperor. what bothered you the most is that your "husband" never even gave you the time of day and that you were forced to listen to the maids whisper and gossip about you.
you saw the look of pity in their eyes.
you don't want their pity. you've never wanted anything but freedom for the last three years you've been trapped in this palace.
you were supposed to marry someone who loved you. have a big ceremony and live happily ever after. instead... instead you were taken away from your family by emperor san and forced to marry him. you were a pawn to him in order to gain control over your kingdom.
a prisoner forced to spend the rest of her life trapped in a loveless marriage and life.
you do your best to push down the negative thoughts as you eat. not wanting to get choked up on tears and cry. you didn't want anyone to see you cry.
especially not these gossiping maids.
"i heard the emperor went to the brothel last night."
"again! does him and the princess not spend nights together?"
"of course not. his highness isn't interested in the princess. their quarters are on completely different sides of the palace. i'm surprised he hasn't killed her, yet."
"i am too."
you try your best to ignore them.
when you've finished eating, you get up from the lonely dining table and exit the room. the maids have their eyes casted downward as you walk past them, acting as if they hadn't just been talking about you. your personal guard, mingi, follows you down the hall.
you remember when you first arrived at the palace, san introduced you to mingi and explained how he will be your personal guard.
"don't try anything stupid, mingi has orders to kill you on sight if you do," san's words still haunt you. mingi wasn't here to protect you, but to watch over you and make sure you never tried anything stupid.
when you return to your quarters, you take your usual seat by your window. the window that overlooks most of palace's entrance and the palace wall that keeps you trapped. too high to climb and too far to even try to attempt to make a run for it. like san purposely chose this room for you as a way to mock you. to let you know that you will always be a prisoner.
still, you can't help but wonder if one day you'll be able to be free and live happily.
however, that will only remain a dream until san crushes it as well like he done to all your other dreams.
"ow," you hiss out, finger immediately coming to your lips to try and stop the small prick of blood. you guess that's what you get for getting lost in your thoughts while attempting to work on your embroider.
you look down at the small cloth with the flower design slowly being sewn into it. embroidering was the only thing that kept you sane in this prison. you're waiting for the day san takes this away from you as well.
"princess, are you alright?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up to see one of the other guards, yeosang, coming into your room.
"i'm fine. just pricked my finger," you say and he nodded his head.
"the emperor is here to see you," he says before stepping aside to let your husband enter your room. he walks in exuding so much power and authority and you hate it. you hate him for how much control he has. you're forbidden from entering the west wing – his quarters – of the palace, yet he's allowed to come in the east wing and even your room without having to ask. you hate it.
"girl," he begins, never has he addressed you by your name. always just 'girl' or 'stupid girl' when it comes to you, like you weren't of your name let alone your title. "pack your bag, i'm sending you back to your home kingdom for a week. you'll be leaving tomorrow morning."
his words take you by surprise. you'll be... returning home? after three years of being away from your family, you'll finally get to see them?
"r-really?" you ask, standing up and completely forgetting about your pricked finger.
"what are you deaf, girl. i'm not going to repeat myself," he says with an annoyed huff and turns to leave.
"wait!" he stops in his tracks at your voice, but he doesn't turn around to look at you. "why am i going? is everything alright?"
"when did you ask so many fucking questions? be grateful i'm sending you there in the first place," he doesn't say anything else before he takes his leave. the door to your bedroom slamming shut behind him and you immediately flinch at the sound.
"are you ready, princess?" yeosang's voice catches you off guard as you look up at the palace you had been trapped inside for three years. being in the front courtyard gives you a completely different set of emotions knowing that you will be away from this place. even if it is for a week.
you asked yeosang if san was going to come, but the guard completely avoided your question. you're not surprised he's not showing up, but it still hurts nonetheless.
then something else hits you.
"where's mingi?"
"he's had some last minute orders from the emperor," yeosang says, keeping his answer vague like always. "come, princess, we have a long trip ahead of us."
you don't say anything but instead silently climb into the carriage. once you're settled inside, the carriage begins to move and you can't help but look out the window watching as you leave the palace.
you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips knowing that you were finally getting to return to your family. you knew nothing could ruin this moment, not even your ruthless husband.
yeosang let out an exhausted breath as he ran towards the palace. the guards standing at their post immediately recognized their fellow soldier, even with his beaten and bruised body.
"yeosang!" the handsome guard recognizes the deep voice from anywhere and he immediately falls into mingi's arms. collapsing from his injuries, no longer able to stand. then mingi realized something as he and some other guards helped his friend. "where's the princess?"
yeosang looked at mingi with tearful eyes before he shook his head and mingi felt something in stomach twist.
"where's the princess, yeosang?"
"i couldn't... i couldn't– bandits ambushed us... i tried, mingi, i really did, but they–
yeosang couldn't finish his words due to how choked up he was getting, but mingi understood what his friend was trying to say.
"where is she?"
"she's in the forest," yeosang answered and mingi immediately set out on his horse with his best friend and fellow guard, yunho. the two were deep into the forest before they finally came across the carriage you had left in.
the entire carriage was destroyed, the wheels broken off and the main part crashed into a large oak tree. bodies of the driver and some others were laying, scattered around and blood was everywhere.
"mingi..." yunho is attempting to be strong as he watches his friend make his way towards the carriage door. it too had been broken and destroyed and the two guards noted how all of your luggage was gone. "those bandits took everything."
mingi ignored his friend in favor of opening the carriage door. however, instead of being met with an empty carriage, he was greeted with something worse.
"fuck!" mingi has to pull himself away from the carriage. tripping over the tree roots as he bends over and vomits. the sight in the carriage burned into his eyes even as he blinks. yunho watches his friend with concern before he's watching him breakdown and sob. tears running down his cheeks and snot running down his nose and over his chin from how hard his was sobbing. mingi's throat burned from when he threw up.
yunho looked between mingi and the carriage before taking several steps towards the carriage. mingi's voice repeating "oh god, oh god, i'm so sorry. please forgive me" is like a broken record in the background. and then yunho reaches over and opens the door and the sight within makes his whole being shake in terror.
when they arrived back to the palace, mingi carried a bag with him as they reached the throne room. san was sitting on his throne with his usually bored expression; however, mingi and yunho entering caught his attention.
"what's wrong with you two?"
"your highness," yunho begins, voice shaking as he starts to talk. however, yunho doesn't know what to say. he's at a loss for words.
"well? what the fuck is wrong you both?" san asks again, standing up and walking towards the two guards. mingi doesn't say anything except hand the bag over to him. "what is this?"
"your highness, the princess's carriage was attacked by bandits. yeosang managed to make it back, but..." yunho says, finally finding his words. he continues after a moment and at the same time san opens the bag. "the princess did not make it. we brought back... what was left of her."
the image of your body laying in the carriage burns in yunho's mind. he had never seen something as horrific before during his time as a soldier and especially done to an innocent woman like you. you did nothing wrong, just someone trapped in a situation you had no control over.
san says nothing as he looks inside the bag, letting the contents settle into his mind before he's carelessly dropping the bag onto the ground in front of his feet.
"oh well."
you can't help the scream that rips through your throat as you thrash around your bed. your covers flying everywhere before settling either back onto your bed or in the floor. your heart is beating rapidly in your ears and your eyes scan the room around you.
you couldn't help but let out another scream as your door is thrown open and in comes mingi with a concerned look.
"what's wrong, princess?" in any other moment you would have found his voice a comfort. but in this moment, you couldn't even find the proper words. the only thing leaving your lips were sobs as tears ran down your face.
it had felt so real, you thought as you curled yourself into a ball. you felt like you had actually died. alone in that forest as those bandits... no. you don't really want to think about it anymore.
"princess y/n?" mingi speaks again earning your attention as you look at him with tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.
"i... i had a nightmare," you said as you wiped away your tears. you hated yourself for crying in front of someone, mingi especially. "sorry."
"ah, its alright, princess. just gave me a scare is all," he says before he's bowing his head towards you and leaving.
when the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. your hands instinctively come up to your neck, feeling a slight ache course through your body. you try to push back the feeling as your stood you and made your way to your ensuite bathroom to get ready.
you remember when you first arrived how you had at least three handmaids to help you get ready, only helping you because they were afraid of san. however, once they realized san didn't care about you, they stopped doing their duty and showing up. only one continued to be loyal to you, yeri.
but then three months ago you found out that yeri only remained by your side because she wanted to try and get close to san. she knew she was a pretty woman and san went after any pretty woman. after she got what she wanted she too–
"princess y/n, what are you doing running your own bath?" the familiar feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts. standing up from the the edge of the tub, you're surprised to see yeri standing at you bathroom door.
"what are you doing here?" you asked, a little surprised to suddenly see her in your room.
"hm? what are you talking about princess? i'm your handmaiden, i'm suppose to be here," she answers and something feels unease as seeing her settles in your stomach. something wasn't right.
you vividly remember the night you found san pinning her to the wall and her words that were meant to bring you down. "wouldn't you rather someone who could properly please you, your highness? someone much prettier than your ugly and boring wife?" you remember who she tilted her head to the side in a flirting manner, even twirling her hair as the word left her mouth a stabbed your heart.
you remember how san only smirked at her before continuing to have his way with her. right there in hallway and in the east wing – "your" wing.
you had thought she was a friend, but when you heard those words you immediately knew she wasn't. you trusted her and she betrayed that trust. she didn't care. she was like everyone else.
"here, princess, let me finish–
"stop talking," you cut her off, voice as cold as you could make it. you couldn't stand looking at her. "is this some sick and twisted joke to you?" you ask, glaring at her. yeri's face is immediately covered in confusion and she opens her mouth to say something. "get out. i don't need you to do anything for me."
"but princes–
"i said get out!" you've never raised your voice, but the longer you looked at her the more you realized that she was able to easily get what you could never have. san's attention.
you could have sworn you seen yeri's fake persona fall for a split second from your new attitude before she's turning on her feet and rushing out of the room.
you let your anger subdue before you're turning back to the tub and quickly turning off the water before it begins to overflow into the floor. because honestly that was the last thing you need right now after just waking up.
you allow the warm water engulf you and you let out a sigh as you sink into the water. your hair placed carefully on top of your head as a way to keep it dry, knowing it was going to be a pain to do if you got it wet. the ache and soreness in your body was still there all around you. your neck, wrist, arms, stomach, and legs all had a type of ache to them that you never experienced before.
maybe you should visit the palace doctor later, you think before you let your eyes close. however, once you close your eyes you are immediately brought back to your nightmare. the screams of the driver and other servants ringing in your ears, the carriage door ripping open and those bandits standing there and their swords shining despite the darkness of the night.
you suddenly open your eyes again in order to make sure you were still in your bathroom. eyes darting around the room as if those bandits would also be here. its only after several minutes does your heart rate calm down before you can even will yourself to get out the tub.
the water had grown cold.
"princess, are you alright? do you need to see the doctor?" one the maids ask when she notice you keep repeatedly rubbing your wrists and neck.
"i... i think i just slept wrong," you say in an attempt to brush her concern off.
"alright, princess, but if it gets worse please let someone know," she says and you nod and thank her before she's going back to her place with the other maids in the dining room.
"i heard she dismissed yeri this morning, yelled at her and told her to get out," one of the maid's said in a hushed whisper.
"really? that's surprising considering how much the princess liked her."
"i say yeri deserved it because of how she has been trying to sleep with the emperor."
trying? as if she hadn't done it yet? how is that possible when she did sleep with san three months ago?
the unsettling feeling reappears as you continue to think about yeri and the nightmare. something just wasn't clicking.
"excuse me," you say and one of the maids immediately come over to you.
"yes, your highness? what's wrong?"
"what... what month is it?"
"august, your highness."
"a-august?" your shocked by her answer. it was august? that was three months ago. how is this possible?
"p-princess are you alright? you look ill," her voice sounds far away as you begin to lose focus on the things around you. everything becomes blurry and you're quick to stand up. chair scraping along the floor before tipping over and falling to the floor.
you begin to walk away, ignoring the maids calling after you and even some of the guards, but you ignore them all. this was just some sick joke from all of them. from yeri, to mingi, to the maids, to san. you were supposed to be in october and spending a week with your family. not in fucking august with people who hated you.
you don't have time to comprehend anything else before your falling to your knees and passing out in the middle of the hallway.
after you had passed out, you had woke up in your bedroom with mingi, yeosang, and the palace doctor surrounding your bed along with a young maid.
the maid was the first to notice you awake and she immediately collapsed at your bedside with tears welling up in her eyes.
"oh, princess, i'm so glad that you're awake! we were all worried sick about you!" she said and your eyes moved from between her to the two guards and then the doctor.
"how do you feel, your highness?" the doctor asked and it took you a moment before you actually answered him.
"i'm fine," you answer despite how your body still aches, you force yourself to sit up. the young maid is quick to adjust your pillows for you as you do.
"you all can leave," you add on looking at the guards and doctor. mingi and yeosang as hesitant to follow your orders, but the doctor does so before giving you instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day. he also said that he would make sure your meals are delivered to your room and that he'll come back later.
when the three males leave, you are left alone with the maid. her doe eyes looking at you with concern as she keeps a watchful eye on you. that's when her name finally comes to you.
"yunjin..." you say trailing off as you remember that she was with you in the carriage. you remember watching as the bandits grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the carriage because she tried to protect you.
"yes, ma'am? do you need anything?" she asks, voice hopeful and waiting to help you. you remember she began working for you when hongjoong – san's advisor, had found out that you had no one helping you. you know he only assigned yunjin because he took pity on you like everyone else here.
however, yunjin followed you around and listened to every order you gave her. at first you were worried that she would be like yeri, only using you to see the emperor. as if you see him on the daily. but then you learned that yunjin was a devoted servant to you.
"is it... really august?" you asked her, still not able to wrap your head around everything.
"yes, princess."
what if... oh god, what if you did actually die that night? does this mean you are given a second chance? a second chance to survive and to make sure that you and yunjin and the other servants don't die.
but how were you going to do this?
and then you hear loud cheers and noises coming from outside and you have to force your body to crawl out of bed and over to the window. then you see him.
san walking through the gates and into the courtyard, a small army of followers around him. following him around like he was some god. then it clicked inside your brain.
if you were going to survive then you would have to gain his favor. deep down you know san was probably the one behind the "bandit" attack. so getting on his good side would get him to call off the bandit attack.
you were going to win over your ruthless husband.
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Ghost w/ an Innocent S/O
Warnings: Reader isn't streetsmart, but they are booksmart, no pronouns used for Reader except 'you', mentions/implications of sex, fluff, Ghost wanting only to keep Reader safe 🥺, vague spoilers/implications of Ghost's past
You're the complete opposite of Ghost's brutal, cold personality.
And because of that, he worries.
He worries that someone would take advantage of your good nature, your eagerness to see the good in everyone and (potentially) misplace your trust.
And that's just when Ghost's home; imagine how he is when he's away.
Escorts anywhere and everywhere.
If you're smaller than him, absolutely no compromise.
Unless you know self-defense.
If you're as large as/larger than him, he'll be a bit more lenient, trusting that you'll be somewhat able to physically protect yourself.
Loves talking to you because your views and opinions are such a breath of fresh air to him.
No brutality, no intense hatred, no desire to see anyone suffer; just you and your wish that "Everyone would just get along."
Ghost knows it's not as simple as that. And you do, too.
You may be naive or innocent, but you're not stupid.
You're actually pretty booksmart.
You make up for things Ghost lacks, and he for you.
You provide the logical answers to something, he provides the practical.
He also adores how wholesome you are.
If you hold this man's hand when you're out and about, or even in private, he'll melt.
He won't show it, of course. But your delicate touches just do something to him.
Make life worth living.
Now, when it comes to sex, you're either quite bashful or absolutely oblivious, regardless of whether you and Ghost have done it before.
He usually has to initiate because there's no way you'll construe his hints the way he wants you to.
"Fancy an early night?"
A concerned look will cross your face.
"Oh, are you ill? Are you tired? You get your pajamas on and I'll bring you some water-"
You're so endearing, and were it not for the fact that Ghost is beyond horny right now, he'd laugh.
You're always willing whenever he initiates, though.
If you end up initiating first one day out of the blue after finally understanding how to give and take a hint, Ghost will likely be in your position.
Won't understand what's happening, believing that whatever vaguely erotic joke or request you'd just made was completely accidental.
Will only grasp the situation when he sees the mischievous look you're giving him.
You're not walking for a couple days after that.
This man lives for your kisses and cuddles, btw.
He loves engulfing you in his frame, protecting you from anything and everything.
He does love when you try and cover him, though.
Like a blanket trying to clothe a whale.
Doesn't care much for 'preserving your innocence' as he believes that you should be allowed to grow and learn as much as you want.
Will advise what you should stay away from, though, and only because he doesn't want you to be traumatised rather than enlightened.
Doesn't worry too much about the others making crude jokes around you since he knows you'll likely not care for them.
But if they make one to you or about you.
💀
They will receive a near-deafening grinding-down, either in front of everyone or in private, depending on how lenient Ghost is feeling.
If you're ever upset about something, Ghost will try and fix it.
Without fail.
He loves how compassionate you are towards people and animals.
Complete 180 from the blood-drenched world he's inhabited for the better part of his life.
Coming back to you feels like reprieve. Like all the trauma and bloodshed can't reach him when he's with you.
Lowkey loves how you decorate your home, even if it's not his personal favourite aesthetic.
It feels like you. Smells like you.
If you're an introvert, Ghost would happily just lay with you all day and never leave the house.
His favourite activity, regardless.
If you're extroverted, however, he'll go wherever you go, unless you explicitly state you want him to stay at home. But only if you're good at self-defense.
Even then, he'll be nervous until you return.
Only asks that you keep him updated about where you are so he can come and find you if needs be.
Hates the idea of becoming a helicopter boyfriend; lets you have your freedom.
Just wants to protect you from everything he wasn't protected from, both as a child and now.
But that's why he does what he does; why he works as a soldier.
And he'd do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterlist [Continued]
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