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yandereonepieceimagines · 1 month ago

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Hello! Can I have a funny scenario with Doflamingo, Crocodile and Aokiji where the 8th Shichibukai suddenly laughs at something very funny that happens between Doflamingo and Crocodile? At least in her eyes? And that she couldn’t stop?

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Of course! I had fun thinking up of something that she would think about to go off the rails like that! And I do believe that a certain someone’s presence would make sure that she wouldn’t be able to stop, either!

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Donquixote Doflamingo Vs Kuzan Aokiji Vs Sir Crocodile

The tall walls of Marie Geoise’s meeting chamber made even the Shichibukai seem small. Today’s rare 'fuller attendance' was only missing the presence of Moria, Mihawk, Kuma and Hancock.

You sat beside Jinbe, sipping tea. On your other side, Crocodile exhaled cigar smoke with all the restraint of a simmering sandstorm. Doflamingo lounged at the table’s far end, his pink feathers as loud as his cackling taunts. Aokiji and Garp, the designated Marine 'supervisors,' kept a lazy eye on the chaos. Aokiji nearly asleep, Garp crunching through his snacks.

It started, as usual, with Doflamingo’s mouth. Never able to resist stirring the pot when Crocodile was present. Yet it had grown markedly worse lately, ever since you began attending these meetings as the newest Shichibukai. Any time you were present, it was as if both men lost their already fragile restraint, competing to one-up and outshine each other, and dragging the entire room’s mood into their private storm. His voice, loud and lilting, cut through the tense atmosphere like a blade wrapped in velvet.

“Crocodile.~ Did you miss me? Your glare’s gotten even sharper, fufufu! I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me since the last time we played together in Paradise. I’m almost touched.”

Crocodile’s hook gleamed dangerously, the golden curve catching the light as he turned his head, smoke curling from his cigar in tight, annoyed spirals. He gave a withering stare, one that could have withered an oak tree. “One more word, and you’ll be picking sand out of those feathers of yours for weeks.”

Doflamingo just grinned wider, draping himself even more lazily over the table, his posture all swagger and provocation. He swung one long leg over the other, letting his feathered coat spread behind him like a peacock on parade. “Is that a threat, or are you flirting again? Maybe I should send you flowers next time! Lighten up that stormy mood. You always get like this when I’m around… It’s cute.” He let out a sharp, ringing laugh, all sharp edges, clearly baiting Crocodile for a reaction.

He leaned back, fingers flexed, sunglasses gleaming in the light. “You know, we could settle this properly. Get the whole table involved. Wouldn’t that be fun?” His tone was almost singsong, but there was a dangerous edge under the surface, a subtle challenge in every note.

The tension rolled through the chamber, thick as syrup and twice as sweet for those who weren’t the direct targets. Even the Marines at the edge of the room stiffened, some exchanging nervous glances, unsure if the table would survive yet another of these infamous spats. The air felt charged, as if something explosive might happen at any second.

Jinbe’s gills tensed. You; a veteran of New World skirmishes, equal to the strongest, almost choked on your tea instead, a splutter escaping. Instead of regaining composure, laughter bubbled out, infectious and genuine, making you double over in your chair.

Aokiji, suddenly wide awake, partly sat up. Doflamingo paused, sunglasses glinting. Crocodile’s scowl deepened from besides you.

You waved a hand, still giggling. “S-sorry! Hahaha! Oh, it’s just… I suddenly pictured you two… Pffft…! Like an old married couple. Doflamingo teasing, Crocodile grumbling. It’s just so-”

Your laughter trailed off into giggles as the room went silent, the tension thick enough to cut.

Doflamingo’s grin became strained, the tips of his fingers twitching. Crocodile’s glare hardened. Aokiji just stared. Expression unreadable. A bead of cold sweat rolling down his cheek.

You didn’t notice the way Doflamingo leaned forward, or how Crocodile’s grip around his hook tightened reflexively. Even Aokiji seemed more awake than usual, a frosty aura creeping into the air.

Jinbe, wise to the ways of trouble, scooted a little ways away from you.

Garp laughed from the other side of the table, oblivious, “Young people these days!”

Your laughter had already set the mood into pandemonium, echoing around the marble hall and drawing a few startled glances from the Marines stationed nervously at the doors. As you turned to Garp of all people, the one Marine here you had an unusual and notoriously good bond with, your giggles only increased, spilling over into hiccupping snorts.

“Hey, Garp,” you managed, breathless and with tears gathering in your eyes, waving a hand in front of your face as if to fan away the contagious hilarity. “Seriously, if those two did get married, who do you think would be the man in the relationship?”

Garp barked out a booming laugh, crossing his arms in front of his chest, completely and understandably unfazed by the dangerous tension radiating from Doflamingo and Crocodile. His whole body shook with mirth, crumbs from his ever-present crackers dusting the table.

You pressed on, voice wobbling with amusement, “With egos like that, there’s no way either would ever back down. They’d both end up in dresses just to spite each other!”

Garp’s laughter bounced off the stone walls, hearty and infectious, pulling some brave Marines along, too. “With Sengoku standing there as the officiant, regretting every single life choice he’s ever made!” he roared, slapping his thigh.

You nearly choked again, spluttering into your hand as you tried to regain composure, only to lose it all over again. “Exactly! Just imagine Sengoku’s face! He’d be weighing up retirement right there at the altar! And, wait, wait, wait, Akainu would have to bring the rings instead of sake cups, because, you know… Sakazuki...? Sake...? Rings...? get it?”

You dissolved into fresh peals of laughter, wiping your eyes. Even a few of the silent Marines at the back struggled to keep their faces straight.

Garp cackled so hard you genuinely feared the table might split in two. “Akainu with the rings! Maybe even seething! Bet he’d look about ready to erupt!”

Seizing the comedic momentum, Aokiji; until now a near-statue at the edge of the room, shifted lazily, an amused smirk curling his lips. “Then I guess that makes you the one tossing flower petals down the aisle, huh?” His tone was perfectly deadpan, but his gaze lingered on you just a bit too long.

That absolutely broke you. The mental image hit you so hard you doubled over, falling nearly out of your chair, clutching your stomach, laughter echoing off the high ceiling. For a moment, it was just you, Garp, and the ridiculous parade in your head; flower petals, and two towering Warlords in dresses somewhere behind you.

One certain individual was not so amused.

Crocodile, at your side, looked as though he might combust on the spot. His glare could have incinerated you, and then the table, his hook tapping a dangerous rhythm now. Inside, he was fuming. How could someone as powerful and feared as you be so casual, so openly amused with something like this? At his expense?

Doflamingo, on the other hand, was not one to let a moment like this pass, especially when it came to you. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees now, his voice syrupy and sly, dripping with calculated intent. “Fufufu! I wouldn’t mind wearing a dress if I was marrying you instead, little bird. If that’s what it takes.~” The words, on the surface, sounded playful, but there was a razor-thin edge beneath them. His gaze slid over you with thinly concealed hunger, sunglasses almost failing to hide the glint of dangerous intent lurking there. Each syllable seemed to echo through the meeting hall, hanging in the air just long enough for everyone, especially Crocodile and Aokiji, to feel the heat of the challenge. He didn’t just say it only for a laugh. He said it as a gauntlet too, thrown with that wicked smile and an undertone that spoke of dangerous obsession.

Crocodile’s response was instantaneous as his scowl darkening. He glared so fiercely you wondered if he might reduce the table to dust, his hook tapping so hard you imagined him splitting the armrest in half. A muscle in his neck jumped. The tension between them felt like a lightning storm about to break loose. To your left somewhere, you felt the temperature drop. Its source being the heavy, icy stare of Aokiji, who, for the first time in the meeting, let a sliver of true emotion show: a warning. His eyes, normally half-lidded and detached, now sharpened and pinned Doflamingo with a cold, threatening look. A chill spreading ever so faintly in the air, as if daring Doflamingo to press his luck, to try and lay claim to you in such a public way.

And yet, you; caught up in your laughter, shoulders shaking, completely oblivious, barely noticed the shifting tides. To you, it was just another moment of comedic relief, but for the three men, it was a silent declaration of war. There was nothing playful about the way they watched you now. There was nothing innocent about the fire in Doflamingo’s grin, the storm brewing in Crocodile’s eyes, or the bitter frost of Aokiji’s attention. The tension wrapped itself around the table like a serpent, unnoticed by most, but deadly for those who could sense it.

You were on the ground now, knees knocking the cold stone, gasping between uncontrollable bursts of laughter. “Only if I get a top-hat! Imagine the wedding photos, Garp! Me in a top-hat, Doflamingo pouting in pink chiffon...!”

Garp pounded the table, roaring so loudly the room shook. “You in a fancy suit and a man in a pink dress towering next to you! What a circus! Hancock as the flower girl instead, too! Sengoku would probably quit the Marines on the spot! Ohoho, I can see the headlines now!”

Your laughter only intensified at Garp’s booming reaction, sending you sprawling until you were clutching your ribs, tears streaming freely down your face. Even the most stoic Vice Admirals near the entrance were biting their cheeks now, trying not to snicker. For a fleeting moment, the suffocating seriousness of Mary Geoise felt far, far away, replaced by the absurdity and warmth of your laughter bouncing off the ancient walls. Jinbe shook his head in disbelief, but even he had to stifle a small smile.

“Maybe Boa would glower so much she’d manage to ruin the bouquet!” you managed, voice cracking between gasps, sending another round of laughter through Garp and a few of the braver Marines.

Suddenly, you sat up, wiping at your eyes, “And if it’s meant to be a proper wedding between me and Doflamingo instead, I’m going to have to drag Mihawk in as the grumpy ring bearer! He'd be my pick!”

You couldn’t resist painting the scene further, “Can you imagine the look on Mihawk’s face? Standing there in his fancy coat, sword and all, holding a little velvet pillow with the rings. He’d be glaring daggers at everyone, looking like he’d rather duel the whole guest list than hand over those rings!”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, giggling, “And Crocodile, if he were there, you know he’d refuse to sit with the rest, probably sulking in a miniature sandstorm by the door. Aokiji would freeze the wedding punch just to annoy him further!”

This time, however, as your wedding fantasy had so brazenly pivoted away from the Crocodile-Doflamingo dynamic to Doflamingo and yourself at the altar, something sharp shifted in the room. Doflamingo’s grin widened. No longer just playful, but gloating. He shot a sidelong glance at Crocodile, tilting his head in a way that made his ever-present sunglasses catch the light. Doflamingo never let anyone see his eyes, but somehow the tilt of his head, the angle of his smile, and the way his grin sharpened said everything. The implication was clear: in your imagination, it was you by Doflamingo's side now. Not him. He stretched back on his seat, practically radiating satisfaction, his smile all teeth and challenge, savoring the sudden reversal.

Crocodile’s scowl darkened, his hook flexing dangerously, but Doflamingo basked in your attention, rolling his tongue across his teeth as if savoring victory. He let out a low, satisfied “Fufufu!” that sent a ripple of tension across the table, the rivalry between the two Warlords no longer veiled but razor-sharp and exposed.

At the same moment, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet, a visible shiver running through the air around Aokiji. The lightest breath of frost curled off his shoulders, and even the laughter from the nearest Marines faltered as they felt the cold bite at their skin. His gaze was like arctic glass, watching the scene unfold with a heavy, unspoken warning. It was especially noteworthy to the most keen-eyed observers, and to the men whose egos were most on the line, that the dynamic in the room had shifted. Where before the imagined scenario revolved around Doflamingo and Crocodile as partners in a mock marriage, your narrative had now, with Doflamingo’s deliberate and bold flirtation, pivoted squarely toward a pairing of you and Doflamingo at the altar. This was no accident; the pink-feathered Warlord, with practiced cunning, had seized the opportunity presented by your joke, steering the playful banter away from rivalry with Crocodile and instead, right under everyone’s nose, recast himself as your chosen partner. Even if only in jest. The calculated maneuver, masked by laughter and innuendo, was not lost on many, least of all Crocodile and Aokiji, who registered this subtle but significant power play with growing agitation and cold resentment.

The obsidian depths of Aokiji’s eyes narrowed, the frozen air around him growing even more pronounced as his silent possessiveness thickened, laying an extra layer of pressure over the already fraught atmosphere.

“Bwahaha! Sengoku officiating, Mihawk as the ring bearer, Hancock as the flower girl… What’s next, Kizaru as the wedding photographer? Imagine the photos!” Garp howled, nearly doubling over from his own seat.

He then slapped his knee hard. “Picture Kizaru with a camera, ‘Oohh, say cheese, ne?’ All the guests almost blurred out because he’s accidentally taking the pictures at light speed! Sengoku pulling his hair out, trying to keep everyone in line!” Garp was gasping between snorts, clutching his chest.

The mental image snowballed between you and Garp, both of you unable to stop yourselves.

The joy was so thick you barely registered how tense the atmosphere had become elsewhere. Meanwhile, Doflamingo’s grin only widened, reveling in the chaos, every giggle from you fueling his desire to claim you for himself. He leaned back, his long fingers steepled, unseen gaze fixed hungrily on you, thoughts spinning with possessive fantasies of you laughing like this for him and him alone.

Crocodile, for his part, finally, finally snapped. With a sharp, audible crack, his cigar split cleanly in two between his teeth, smoke curling up in thick, angry ribbons around his face. The scent of burning tobacco mingled with the cold air, drifting up to join Aokiji's tension. He didn't even seem to notice the ruined cigar as it tumbled from his lips, the action more cathartic than anything. He seethed in silence, hook gleaming, his glare now absolute and unyielding, eyes promising that anyone daring to make you laugh this hard again for such stupid reasons would pay dearly for it. Doflamingo most of all.

Aokiji, unreadable and silent, made a mental note: he would not let you slip away. The way you lit up the room, the way you laughed without care, sent a shiver through even his current icy composure. He was more awake now than at any point in the meeting, his attention laser-focused on you, already quietly plotting ways to ensure you would stay this bright and free, but only in his presence.

Jinbe, ever the responsible one, pressed a massive palm to his forehead, sighing so deeply it was almost lost in the laughter. Silently, he prayed the meeting would end before anyone actually proposed or before a war broke out.

#one piece #yandere #female reader #x reader #op #sir crocodile #crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #kuzan #aokiji #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #reader insert

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elia-liendy · 2 months ago

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Late night talk at the 24h self service

X x GN!Coworker reader

Genre: Fluff(?), Comfort, One-shot (2nd person pov)

Summary: X was walking to a 24h self service, but you're fighting with a vending machine of the self service zone, as X was about to leave you alone, you end up to notice his presence and since he could no longer leave, X engages on a talk to cheer you up.

Man, idk you can take it romantic or platonic, it's up to you. I personally take it as romantic since it's a self indulgent yume fic.🥀🥀🥀

Cw: swearing

Count: 3.7k

One hand on his pocket and the other playing with a coin in his fingers, X is walking mindlessly to the nearest self service to enjoy his favourite can of soda, sweet and sugary, that's how he loves it and that what he always drank. Just by thinking to drink it, it makes him hum eager to feel the carbonate taste on his tongue, transforming the simple desire into a need. A need to treat himself nicely after after working his 9/5 and hit big on today stream, even if he had to end it forcefully, thanks to the bothersome law enforcement that he had to deal after fighting and arresting a gang on live.

He for sure deserves a small break while sipping his favourite drink plus, it won't hurt anyone, especially not when it sound like paradise to X himself.

Hums to himself happily, thinking whenever he should continue the stream after his drink or end it here for today.

He takes the last turn to reach the awaited self service zone, but his flow of troughs stops all together whit also his walk and coin play thanks to some sudden metal noise coming from the self service zone.

He opens his eyes and he sees you, still wearing your office clothes, but untidy and your hair are frizzy. You look entirely agitated, exhausted and tired, whit a look he understood that probably it was given to you more work to do, making you walk out of office this late in the night.

You aggressively shake the vending machine, it does practically nothing but making a loud noise. Since nothing is working you decide to release your frustration to the machine,you begin to slap and kick the machine.

"Give my money back!!"

You groan frustrated, you're aware that complaining will do nothing, but you still do it to let out all your pent up energy you have gained all day from being still in the office chair even after the hours of your contract, thanks to your supervisor giving you more work than you can handle... Once again.

X stand there watching you bullying the vending machine whit such unexpected behaviour from his dear junior co-worker, and he can't help but find it rather "entertaining" seeing this new side of you.

He already finds you interesting and pleasant to be whit you on the daily 9/5 by both your little admiration for him and finding ways to always engage on a casual talk, he your chair neighbour, despite you using the same two cards: asking to eat together during lunch break or asking help to any kind of doubt you have; he find that time enjoyable, making his 9/5 all more lively.

You wear your heart on your sleeve and he find you very easy to get along and his ego always gets a boost whenever you look up at him for help and advice. You're also never prone to be anger and always try to be diplomatic... and finding you whit the how you are now: ruined formal clothes, wild hair and the exasperated behaviour; it's so opposite to your demure self, he can't help it but find it intriguing, despite feeling bad at finding curiosity in your not so happy situation.

"My money, hahahaha...."

You laugh bitterly while hitting repeatedly your head on the vending machine and when you stop, you go drag your hand slowly down to the glass, making a screeching sound that penetrates the ears of both of you.

You mumble to yourself, slowly falling into the ground whit hands your hair and a hopeless expression.

X despite finding this intriguing, seeing you like this, he knew better to leave you alone in this fragile and private moment, hoping to keep this moment for yourself only. But before he could anything, even snap his finger and teleport away, you turned around looking at him, your expression is molded to a glaring frown.

The both of you freezed for different reasons: You're completely frozen by the sight of the number one hero, X himself, looking at you. A you that is pathetically sitting in front of a vending machine whit messy clothes and hair, you feel the shame reaching to your face painting it red.

"...."

You continue to stand there quietly still looking shocked before bitterly laughing by the absurdity of such situation.

As for X, he found himself surprised by your sense, and he was frozen not knowing what to do, but hearing you laugh als made him laugh too, joining whit you... Even if you're laughing for different reason.

You use the vending machine to stand up, yet you still move wobbly, you're not considering fixing your presence in front of the number one hero, you're too tired to even find an ounce of self composure.

"the vending machine is broken. I suggest you go to another."

Your voice screeches thanks to the dry and strained vocal cords, you turn to give one last glare the vending machine while stepping away whit a pissed expression that got stamped on your face since you got out of work.

"Really? Are you sure of that?"

X begins to re-play whit the coin as he walks towards the vending machine confident of himself and that pissed you more than you're already are. Of course you're sure of that, you're fought whit this vending machine for 20 minutes.

"Oh~my, of course monsieur X, I am quite delighted to inform you that thay machine, that sells thay eatables goods is malfunctioning in upsetting ways."

You bow at him whit heavy sarcasm and false teatrism while gifting him a deadly glare. He chuckles enjoying your sarcasm that came whit this new side of yours, maybe bit too much, a side that he hardly believes that he would meet as your co-worker.

"Well you will never know till you try yourself."

X glance at you with, on your opinion, an annoying smile that's always stamped on his stupid face. His hands continue to play with coin while slowly inserting it in the coin slot and then pressing the first number.

"...."

You cross your arms, biting your lips and hold yourself back to curse at him, but containing yourself isn't helping, it's only irritating you even more. To release your frustration you decided to began tap your feet repeatedly, but the noise increased your irritation and the fact someone is near you seeing like this, is upsetting you even more.

"Whatever. I bet you're loooaaaded with of money Mister Number One. To you, one little coin means nothing."

He looks at you, aware of your unawareness about the fact you couldn't be more wrong and that makes him smile even more.

He works the same 9/5 as you, well it's true he have a bigger salary than you, by just the simple fact you just got hired three months ago. Plus he gets extra money from X streams, but he ever hardly uses them, it would be highly suspicious if he used them mindlessly as the single minded office worker he is supposed to be. So he gives most of those money in donations to little and trustworthy organisations.

You look at him and he looks at you, silence is expanding, he's smiling at you but he isn't responding.

He just stand there and you glare at him, disliking his non-reaction reaction, the silence is cutting and you dislike silence, you always feel on edge when there is silence piercing your ear; that is also why you always work whit music whit one earpod.

Tension begins to grow in your mind, slowly becoming unbearable for your already overwhelmed self, the irritation also continues to grow and it's consuming your lucidity and you hate it, your feet tapping gets faster and you begin to scratch your arms aggressively while still keeping them crossed.

You dislike being angry on itself and you defenely hate seen by others like thins whit the possibility to lash out, even passively, to the next person; even if said next person is smiling like he is enjoying your irritation whit that smug smile and keen stare...

And... He is, in fact, enjoying it. He is enjoying everything in this conversation, he is making sure to register every little reaction of yours and can you blame him? This new side is all even more interesting to him.

Whit X, you don't hold admiration and the interaction feels all more true and raw, which considering it's quite paradoxical: he is now appearing as X the number one hero, loved and trusted by the people, someone considered invincible and powerful by his followers and yet you treat such special individual like a normal person, while the admiration is reserved for your co-worker, the real him.

Is it because X first meeting happened whit you already being upset? Or is it because you don't care about X opinion of you? Either way he can hardly keep himself to smile even more in front of you, even if he doesn't want to upset you even more, truthfully said he want to calm you down, you look terrible both physically and mentally and you're also hurting yourself by scratching too hard on your arm, it's that he find this side of you unknown and he want to explore it.

You cannot take it anymore, how long this uncomfortable and long silence will continue? your fear thinks it won't stop stretching till you won't do something, because he, for sure, is doing nothing but smiling like a statue.

You look at him uncomfortable while you take a step back, hoping that such reaction will bring him to speak, look away or anything to break this unbearable silence, but it doesn't... he stand there still smiling.

You look at him bewildered and unsettled, what is happening? Did he froze? You think as you decide to try walk closer to him, even if you're high key intimidated of him right now, but you need to do something for your anxious heart.

Walking away is too rude; you consider speaking to him, but your voice was already screeching before and you can only imagine the shame you would feel when your voice breaks the silence whit a screech followed by a cough... You're cringing by just imagining it.

So the only reasonable and appropriate thing to do is tap his shoulders and see if he moves or something.... Seriously is this how the most trusted hero act? You hardly believe yourself on what you're seeing.

You take the first step and you look at him, hoping some reaction from him, but nothing he still stand there frozen, so you take another step and see if he reacts but he still does nothing, so every time he doesn't react you take a step closer.

Look and step,

Look and step till you were right in front of him, looking at him whit a frown

You trough he was spacing out, like you usually do, but no... that bastard, was looking at you and he even had the audacity to move down his head to still look at your face correctly as he continues to smile, how annoying and extremely humiliating. You want to say something, to get mad at him or to make fun of him, but your sense of shame is stopping you in doing so, you feel your blood rushing trough your face and your muscles remaining still yet tense.

X didn't do nothing because he was considering his actions and the possible outcome of them, like the chess nerd he is. But then seeing you slowly walk to him like a scared puppy, he decided to see what you were trying to do, yet seeing you freeze in your shame after you just came in front of his face, or better his chest, he decided it was the moment for him to ease your one sided tension.

He takes a moment to think before looking at the vending machine and to change into a different topic: he decided to see if it was truly broken, he pressed the last digit to select the soda he wanted to buy so much before meeting you... And to the surprise of both of you, the vending machine began to move as the sound of it's engine broke the silence.

X laughed satisfied by this outcome and goes to check your reaction: you're looking at the vending machine whit wide eyes and mouth with frowning eyebrow, hardly believing on what you're seeing, you stood in front of this stuck vending machine for 20 minutes. You were fighting whit it for 20 minutes. but it did nothing.

Your expression shift to one of anger and X began to laugh, upsetting you even more as you give him a middle finger, you don't like how also fate joined in to make fun of you whit X.

"Fuck you."

you avoid looking the vending machine and especially X whit his irritating smile, but also what irritated you even more, is the fact he got the same thing you failed to buy.

You don't know if it's a casual coincidence or if he knew and did it out of spite.

"I didn't do nothing."

After to reaching the can of soda he goes to rest his eyes on you once again and he easily saw that you wanted the soda since you were intensely staring at it, so he decided to give it to you.

He moved his hand and resting the can in front of your face seeing if you would take it. You look at him confused and irritated as you frown even more, not getting his hint, he could easily read that you look his actions as a mockery.

"You can take it."

He sigh, but despite his shown reaction he does appreciate the fact you're easy to read, it's rather endearing.

He pushes the end of the can into your forehead just to tease you a little, the cold aluminium of the can makes you shiver as you look at him surprised before stepping back flustered, you touch your forehead as you look the can of soda that he hold and lightly shakes in frot of your eyes, you take a moment to look at him before using the same hand that was in your forehead to get the can.

"Thank you..."

You said quietly, not expecting such little act of kindness from him, you hold the can whit both of your hands while looking at him, for once you don't find his smile irritating, but rather comforting and nice to gaze at.

But despite that you feel a sense of uneasiness and discomfort, you feel like you owe him something for the drink, unaware that your face is showing what you're feeling right now, it made X sigh, being this easy to read isn't good for you, even if it's a traits that he likes about you. He worries about the possibility of his dear co-worker being easily exploited by those whit ulterior intension.

"You don't owe me nothing, and especially you don't owe me an explanation."

You jump surprised and confused, yet still comforted by him once again, you feel a certain weight lifting you off from your shoulder.

You unconsciously smile as you eyes fall to the can, your appreciation is shown once again in your face and the way you gently hold the soda... that feel like a reward for him, seeing his dear co-worker mood finally lifting up, your smiles are warm like ray of sun he now rarely enjoys since he became a hero.

"Do you like this can of soda?"

You ask at X while you open the can, the sound of a opening can it's always something your ears appreciate, the aluminium opening and the frizziness of the soda gets louder as it interacts whit the oxygen.

"I never tried personally..."

You continue to act like you didn't ask the question, even if you did notice that X didn't answered, yet you didn't mind, you're aware that every little detail could be crucial for a hero secret identity. But that what's your mind think, in reality X was just thinking that he wish he had enough coins whit him to buy another can of soda, but he sadly ran out of coin, still he doesn't regret giving it to you, your genuine expression of appreciation are always priceless to him, that another added reason why he likes when you ask for his help.

"...I always seen my co worker drink it... So I got curious on how it tasted... But I always felt ashamed to ask him."

You explain flustered realising only after you finished speaking that you still end up over explaining yourself, you sigh and laugh to ease your nerves.

X stands there silent, aware on how much shy and hesitant you're whit him as your co-worker, he wonders if it's the admiration? Or your social anxiety? Maybe it's both? But for sure he wants to use this opportunity to know more what you think about him or to know you better.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you asked him."

And since you're talking about him in front of him, he feels like that he at least owes you some moral support, the little guilt slowly dissapear as this conversation is getting too interesting for him as he doesn't want to let go of such rare and ironic opportunity.

"I think so too... It's, just... I don't know, probably my fears are covering my ears and eyes."

You're self aware of your anxiety, but you don't know how to act upon it.

You look the soda unsure if you truly want to drink it, you slowly put the can under your nose to examine the smell of the soda, unsure if you will even like it after all you're not a fan of carbonate drinks.

X knows the smell from memory, strawberry but added frizz that makes the nose itches, such smell makes him smile, yet your face frowns in disgust making you even more reluctant to drink it now.

"You know how it taste like?"

You ask X, scared even to try it. You already feel nauseous from the smell, you don't want to puke in front of him, especially out of cordiality and respect, since he is the one that gifted the can to you.

"It's a carbonate sweet soda that give an aftertaste of strawberry."

Hearing that, you decided to give back to him, holding back the gag reflex still out of respect for the nice gesture.

"It's all yours...thank you for the gesture, I really appreciate it, but I think I will for sure not like this drink."

X takes the soda watching you step back feeling nauseous by just imagining the taste.

It surprises him, he trough by the way you look and act, you would be another fan of sweets and strawberry like him,but it seem he misjudged you... Well better for him, he still uplifted your mood and still got the privilege to finally sip his awaited sugary and carbonate taste.

As he begin to chug down the soda, he can hear you taking deep breaths to forget about the smell you obviously disliked and he thinks, but his mind there is a question that is tormenting him to let it out....

"Are you scared of him?"

He says aware that his curiosity is getting the better end of him, but it's not like he is even fighting against it.

You turn around a bit surprised by his question, not expecting to be curious about such unimportant thing for the number one hero.

"..."

You take a moment as you look at X and then look to the ground as your back goes to rest on a close wall, before deciding to awnser, it's not like X gains anything from talk, you think, but only if you knew the truth you would be fuming.

"I'm not scared of him, I'm scared of shame."

You look at the sky hopeless, X looks at you, the both of you deep in the trough, making the silent full of meaning between the two of you.

"Do you think he is the type to judge?"

He ask, unsure of your awnser despite the talk it's about himself, yet when you look at him and simply move your head to signal a no whit a little smile, his heart slowed down in reassurance, happy whit your awnser.

"You shouldn't cage yourself in fear. Those fears will become reality if you let them be."

X walks up to you and flick your forehead whit a smile of reassurance, finishing his soda and perfectly throwing it in trash behind him whitout even looking.

You leans away while you touch your forehead, feeling the little sting in your forehead as you look at him between a glare of anger and a confused stare.

"Well whatever, it's not like it's the end of the world if it becomes the truth. I always been alone, and be rejected another time means nothing to me."

You slap his hands away as you couldn't stand being there anymore, you already knew that much, you didn't need anyone to tell you that especially you didn't need the hero X to tell you that.

You're tired both from this talk and the previous overload of work you had today. You just want ot take a long shower and sleep, now, because if you don't go to bed soon, tomorrow your mood will be even worse than it is now form the lack of sleep.

X watches you leave the self service zone, he is aware that you're just trying to just convince yourself that you're fine whit the fear of rejection, but he wants to change that.

He smiles, he has taken it as a challenge to prove you wrong, that you're scared of rejection and to no longer be scared him as your co worker.

You disappear he turns around to walk on his apparent, he began to flip and play with a coin he secretly stole from you while you weren't looking, his mind was already thinking how to break your walls of fear and insecurity around him and to be closer to you and your heart.

_____________________________

After notes: man I posted the draft while I thought it got deleted. That's embarrassing 🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯

#to be hero x #tbhx #x to be hero x #x tbhx #tbhx X #hero X #to be hero x x reader #hero X x reader #X x reader

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apeirons · 3 months ago

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Paradise Is Very Fragile, Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass, Lana Del Rey

#typography #typographyedit #poetry #poetryedit #typo #typoedit #violet bent backwards over the grass #lana del rey #dark academia #literature #*

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authorddreamz · 9 days ago

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More Than Words Left Between Us... Part 2! Coming Soon 🤞🏾💨🧚🏾

Listen....I'm on a very strict journey to discipline myself as a writer. So, I'm going to drop this on Friday June 20th, 2025 8 PM CST

The grand opening of Club Juke proves to be too much for Annie. Seeing Smoke interact with other women so soon after reuniting with her sets off emotions she's far too fragile to process.

Smoke, riding a high from his reunion with his love, misses all the signals that their paradise is slowly going from a peninsula to a sinking island.

Preview:

Annie forced a smile to her face as Pearline, a locally known singer, pranced in her direction.

"Can you believe it!" Pearline crooned, cat eyes pulled tight as she grabbed Annie's hand. "I've heard so much buzz about this place opening and it's finally happening."

Annie's eyes shifted from Pearline to Smoke as he stood not too far off, in a close conversation with Stack. "Yeah, umm. It's great. I-haven't heard a thing about it though." Annie allowed the vulnerability to slip into her tone.

Pearline stood straighter, frowning. "You ain't know your man and his twin were opening a club?"

Once again, Annie felt like an outsider in Smoke's world. "Nope." Her lips popped as she returned her eyes to Pearline. "No biggie though."

Pearline's shoulders bounced. "Well, you're here and I saw you two walk in arm and arm. Don't let these hoes shake you. That man loves you down." Before Annie could say more, Pearline walked away.

A task. One presenting itself to be impossible. Each time a woman approached him, seductive eyes and intimate gestures, Annie's pulse quickened. Jealously danced in her gut, unapologetic twist and turns as she struggled to keep the rage from her expression. These emotions although new, were perpetual, undeniably draconian.

How does he do this so effortlessly?

Smoke's ability to unravel her both emotionally and physically deserves a prolific dissertation. Someone...anyone would sit through it, take notes and somehow use it to heal the world or set it on fire. She'd die peacefully as a sacrifice, not wanting anything else.

Rudely, her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of yet another woman approaching Smoke. Annie's eyes took in the deep plunge in her dress, coupled with a slit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Manicured fingers curled around his wrist before she leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. She wasn't the first woman to kiss him tonight and Annie knew she wouldn't be the last.

She couldn't stomach it.

"Fuck this." She grabbed her purse from the table, snapping it close before she started towards the door. The moment she began to move, she knew he was following her, yet she didn't stop in her stride to the exit.

Smoke cut in front of her, gently grabbing her arm before turning her to him. Intense eyes hit her as smoke from his cigar lingered between them like words unspoken. His gaze was centered on her as she shifted her weight in her stance. He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space like it was his to do with as he pleased. His hands moved from her arm to her waist, a gesture of intimacy that didn't hit her the way it usually did.

"Another hour or so before we can go." Smoke stepped closer to her, pulling her into a quick kiss as Annie struggled with returning his passion. Smoke instantly frowned. "Talk to me."

"I was gonnna call a Lyft. I'm a little tired."

He nodded. "Aight. Let me grab my shit and we can go."

"No." Annie grabbed him before he could move. "You should stay with Stack, you know he functions better with you in close proximity."

Smoke's brows touched. "You wanna leave alone?"

"It's a short ride..."

"You going to check on ol' boy?" His brow lifted, eyes hard and focused. Such a contradiction to the loud and loose club goers surrounding them. Loose tension moved between them, silently brewing as their eyes had a standoff.

"No." Annie answered finally. "I'm going home."

"To him?" Smoke refused to allow her to leave without real answers.

"No." Annie groaned. "I'm actually just sick of seeing bitches in your face. I need a break."

Smoke's jaw clenched. "I just had my face between you legs for eight hours, Annie. I plan to put your pussy right back in my face when we leave here." Smoke looked around, confused by her words. "I've been licking my lips so much they're chapped because I can still taste you on my tongue. Your juices still linger in my beard and I ain't doing shit to get rid of them because that's where they belong." He stepped into her, forcing her against the wall. "What bitches are you referring to, my love?"

.....

Friday, I swear! On momma grave! - Stack Moore 🥰

#author #writing #art #poetry #annie sinners #annie x smoke #michael b jordan #ryan coogler #sinners #annie moore #smoke moore #fanfic #wunmi mosaku #smokestack twins #love #filmmaking #smoke x annie

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ang3lofdivinity · 6 months ago

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𓏲๋࣭ 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖸𝗈𝗎🫧˖°

Relationship(s) :: Jinx + Calypso(slightly yandere)!Fem!Reader (romantic)

Genre :: Fluff! And LOTS, LOTTTSSS of angst.

Format :: Oneshot / story

Warnings :: spoilers for season 2 of Arcane, even more trauma than last time!!, death mentions, READER IS NOT CALYPSO - takes her place essentially, Reader leans towards being more yandere (possessive and obsessive over Jinx), Jinx still has some remaining feelings for Ekko, but eventually gives up once again, heavily inspired by Jorge’s “Love In Paradise” + “Not Sorry For Loving You”, Reader is not toxic like Calypso in either of those songs! A bunch of time skips for a few, VERY LONG (I had to split this up into another part dude..), slight imitation to SH? Nothing explicitly stated

A/N :: AAA I actually am very surprised that “Stuck In Paradise” (be sure to read it first! None of this will really make any sense if you don’t read the first part of this!) kinda blew up! + all of the nice comments. TYSM GUYS FOR YOUR SUPPORT, GENUINELY. (I saw 1.9% of you say no btw 🤨). I hope this lives up to your expectations!! (W.C: 10.6k)

Ⅰ - Ⅱ - Ⅲ

The days and weeks slipped by in a surreal, dreamlike rhythm for Jinx and you, as if time itself had softened around the edges. Life had never felt this way before; unpredictable yet strangely comforting. You had long resigned yourself to solitude, believing you’d never see another human face again. The gods would probably be tired of seeing so many arrive on your island by pure coincidence and then immediately leaving once they had the chance to. They might as well have put another spell on your island so that nobody else would’ve been able to end up here.

Isolation had become your norm. Your reality.

And then Jinx arrived, shattering that reality you’d become so used to.

She was different. The others who had stumbled upon this forsaken island before her had always left the moment they had gotten the opportunity by the gods themselves, abandoning you to your endless exile. They were fleeting, shadows passing through your life and leaving you to rot.

With one of those sailors? You’d once gotten so attached. Too attached

And then they left you…

Everyone who ever appeared on this island - besides yourself - disappeared within a few weeks.

But Jinx?

She stayed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had someone who cared for you.

Even in the loneliness of this place, you weren’t truly alone anymore.

Over time, the two of you began to grow closer, spending hours together in quiet conversation or companionable silence. You were drawn to her sharp edges and fragile strength, and she—though unaccustomed to such things—found herself drawn to your unwavering care. Jinx wasn’t used to safety or protection. The idea of someone looking out for her was.. odd, almost unsettling.

But with you? She was beginning to understand what it felt like to be safe, to not have to look over her shoulder at every corner she turned due to the hostility of those living within the Undercity.

And for you, her presence was a revelation. You loved the sound of her voice, the unexpected humor that flickered through her words during such moments, and the way she slowly let down her guard. There was something healing in her company, something that made the world feel just a little less broken.

For now, the gods seemed to have turned their attention elsewhere, leaving you both in a rare state of peace. This was especially important to you, given the fact you would now be able to relax without their constant nagging or their interferences annoying you, you were free to simply be—to sit together by the fire, to explore the island, to share the small joys of this strange life you’d come to know.

You couldn’t say what the future held, but for now, you had each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

"Pixie, you're doing it wrong," you said, trying to stifle your giggles as Jinx dangled a net precariously over the water.. and herself.

As for what you both were doing? Well, trying to catch fish! You wanted to create a meal with them eventually, but realized you had begun to run out. So, you told Jinx you were going to be out for a while and collect some fish - to which she ecstatically mentioned she wanted to come with you and try to catch some fish herself.

And how could you say no?

So, you let her tag along.

"What do you mean wrong??" Jinx shot back, mock offense dripping from her tone. She wobbled slightly, balancing on the rocks near the ocean. It's painfully clear that she never has done anything like this before in her life.

“You throw the net in, you pull it out. Boom, fish!”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest

"Except the part where the fish actually stay in the net? You know, the most important part?”

"That's an unimportant detail,” Jinx muttered, grinning.

“Hey, wanna see something cool I can do?!” With a sudden movement, she swung the net dramatically, trying to make some sort of cool entertainment for you (something that seemed like an attempt at a handstand)!- ...only for the net to snag on a rock behind her. The momentum of the action sent her sprawling backwards into the shallow water with a loud splash, causing some of the sand and most of the rocks to become wet.

You immediately gasped at the sight, filled with worry as your first thoughts were filled with those of ‘is she okay!?’ ‘Is she hurt!?’.

Then, she sat up from where she’d fallen, net surrounding her within the water as she spat out a bunch of water - almost like that of a waterfall.

This made your concern dissolve into laughter.

“Oh, gods! Jinx, are you okay?" You managed to speak between fits of laughter, rushing closer to where the bluette fell.

Sitting up in the water, Jinx blinked, hair plastered to her face as she turned to look up at you.

"I'm just testing the water quality, obviously." She muttered, clearly salty about her failed trick. And you giggled a bit more about the entire ordeal before finally regaining your composure and clearing your throat.

You extended a hand to help her up, but it seems like Jinx had some other plans in mind for you!

With a mischievous grin, she yanked you into the water beside her.

"AA!! JINXX!" You squealed as the cold water soaked your clothes as you were splashed from the impact. You sat up, moving some hair out of your face before you quickly splashed Jinx in retaliation with a giggle, to which she happily returned with a splash towards you of her own.

By the end of the "fishing trip," you had caught exactly zero fish but had tears of laughter streaming down both of your faces.

You really should take her with you more to catch fish. Though, maybe focus more on the task?..

Nevertheless, you both eventually got out of the water, completely drenched from head to toe. But neither of you minded, given the stupid smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“I’ll let you take a bath first. I’ll take care of your clothes.” You gently patted the damp hair atop Jinx’s head, to which she playfully scoffed at.

You didn’t even notice before - but her hair had grown a bit from the first time you’d met her, her electric blue hair now reaching the base of her neck.

“You want me to cut your hair soon?” You inquired on the walk back with her, dragging the net alongside you as she nodded, grinning ever so slightly. And for the rest of the walk back to the palace, you both let the comforting silence linger between the two of you.

The two of you should do this more often..

After returning from the fishing trip and ensuring Jinx was settled for her bath, you take her wet clothes along with your own upon changing into a robe to clean them so they are clean for the next morning while grabbing some of your own clean clothes: a pair for her and a pair for you.

Returning back to the parlor, you begin to fold up a clean set of your own clothes for her to wear, and as you do so - the memories of the evening bring a smile to your face. Jinx’s laughter, her grin, and the way she seemed so carefree during the trip.. it’s rare to see her like that.

You set the clothes you had grabbed for her on a small table outside the bathroom with a light knock on the door before retreating to the kitchen to give her privacy.

By the time Jinx emerges and finds you returning to the parlor, her damp hair towel-dried and her face flushed from the warm bath, you’re preparing your own turn to clean yourself off. She’s wearing your clothes that you prepped outside (which is similar to that of what you gave her when she first arrived here): an oversized shirt and some loose, comfortable shorts, looking surprisingly at ease despite the borrowed attire.

“These are comfy,” she says, tugging at the fabric with a grin.

“Though. I’m still the one with style.” She proudly proclaims, hands on her hips.

You laugh at her comment before turning on your heel to look at her.

“Right, because soaking wet and covered in sand is the pinnacle of fashion?”

Jinx sticks her tongue out at you in response before speaking up again.

“Says the one who’ll be looking like a prune after a bath!” She flops dramatically onto the couch, draping herself across it.

“You better hurry up, Trinket. The night’s still young, and I’m not done hanging out with you yet.”

You giggle at her words for a moment before you slip away for your own bath, the warmth of the water washing away the chill of the evening and the lingering bits of sand stuck to your skin.

As you take your time, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, rubbing the conditioner in your hair - you find your thoughts drifting to Jinx—her laugh, her little playful banter with you, the way she seems so at home with you despite how chaotic she usually acts around you. It’s oddly refreshing to see her in such a state.

Eventually, you finish cleaning yourself, draining the water from your bath and drying yourself upon getting out of the tub. You take your time to brush out your damp hair, change into the fresh clothes you had gotten for yourself, making sure you look at least decent before placing your robe on a small rack for later use.

Then, you return to the parlor, just to find Jinx sprawled across the couch, idly tinkering with some small gadget she must’ve grabbed from her stash.

The moment she sees you she perks up, fixing her position on the couch.

“Took you long enough!” she teased you, patting the spot next to her.

“C’mon, sit down. I’m not gonna bite!”

“..much.” You roll your eyes at her comment but take the seat right next to her.

The quiet hum of the room settling over you both. The late-night air is cool, and the faint sounds of the trees slightly swaying from side to side to the gentle breeze is a comforting sound you’d long gotten accustomed to listening for.

And when you least expect it (given she’s never done anything like this before) — Jinx leans her head against your shoulder.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice softer now.

“Today was fun. Stupid, messy, and fishless, but fun.”

You smile as a small giggle leaves your mouth, resting your head lightly against hers.

“Yeah, it was. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely,” she murmurs, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. (You cannot deny the heat warming your cheeks, and the way your heart skips a beat).

“But next time, I’m catching something. I’m not letting those fish laugh at me again.” You chuckle softly at her little comment before closing your eyes as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

The night stretches on, peaceful and easy, as if the world outside doesn’t exist for a little while.

Right now?

It’s just you and Jinx.

Though you’ll have to rest shortly, you can take some time to simply relax with the person you care most about.

Jinx was utterly spent.

The day had been physically demanding, given from the few inventions she had begun in the morning, to helping you clean around the palace, to the fishing trip outside.

But even with all of the exhaustion.. it was still strangely peaceful.

For a fleeting moment, she almost forgot about the chaos and pain of her past.

Almost.

When she returned to her room, she slumped onto the bed without much thought. Her eyelids felt heavy, but sleep was a complicated thing for her.

The echoes of past memories, the ones she’d never fully escaped, and even the simple fact that she barely ever even got sleep when she was working under Silco or him.

Those memories always lingered just on the edge of her consciousness. It was always hard to tell if they’d leave her be or drag her into nightmares.

Tonight, though, her body gave in quicker than her mind could protest. She drifted off in an awkward position: one arm dangling off the bed, legs tangled together, and her head tilted at an angle that would definitely give her a sore neck in the morning.

However.. you were there, no?

You slowly peeked into Jinx’s room.

You hesitated in the doorway, biting your bottom lip, debating with yourself whether you should go in. It’s invasive and incredibly weird— but.. you just need to make sure she’s safe. Your heart raced as it always did when you checked on Jinx, a habit you’ve grown.

You’ve gotten too attached to the bluette to allow anything horrible to happen to her, so you’ve made it a routine to check in on her every so often. Most times after she had fallen asleep. On those nights where she hadn’t rested still for whatever reason, you made your nighttime visits clear to her as you just worried about her well being.

Of course you never told her you did it every night, you simply told her it was because you could clearly hear her being restless - which thankfully convinced her.

You felt bad about lying to her.. but it felt weird enough that you were doing this.

Stepping inside, you made sure your footsteps were gentle and quiet so as to not alarm Jinx. The soft glow of moonlight spilling in from the window illuminating Jinx’s peaceful but slightly uncomfortable looking form.

Seeing the bluette sprawled out, you couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape past your lips.

How does she even manage to sleep like that?

Finally making your way over to the side of the bed, you knelt beside the bed, carefully lifting Jinx’s arm and tucking it back onto the mattress. You also adjusted Jinx’s legs so they were more relaxed and less twisted.

Of course—not in a violating or weird way, as uncouth as these actions might seem. You’re doing it to make her comfortable! Not to be a creep!

And finally, you slowly pulled the extra blanket over Jinx.

The entire time, your heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness upon seeing the sight. Seeing the chaotic woman you’d grown so fond of finally relaxed and asleep.

Though once Jinx was tucked in, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave immediately.

So, you lingered at the edge of the bed, your eyes tracing the lines of Jinx’s face. The bluette looked so peaceful in sleep, so vulnerable and far removed from the sharp edges and guarded demeanor she carried when awake, especially when she’d first arrived here on Ogygia. She seemed so harsh, so on guard twenty-four seven!

But could you blame her? Of course not.

Nearly everyone who came before her was exactly the same.

Though just as you had begun thinking of a multitude of other things — there’s something that got you out of your thoughts: upon closer inspection, Jinx had a stray piece of hair covering her face in a rather.. odd way. It was almost going into her mouth.

…

You hesitated before leaning closer, your fingers trembling as you brushed the stray piece of hair behind her ear and away from Jinx’s face.

However, as you did so - the bluette shifted slightly.

Oh gods, was she going to wake up!? Was she going to see you here acting like some sort of stalker!?

Your breath hitched, adrenaline coursing through you until —

..she didn’t wake.

You let out a relieved sigh upon figuring out she was simply stirring within her sleep, your fingers lingering near Jinx’s cheek for just a moment longer than necessary.

Then before you finally decided to leave, you whispered softly, almost too quiet to be heard, even by yourself.

“I won’t let anything happen to you… I promise.”

Finally, you stood, your eyes lingering on Jinx one last time before you turned and slipped out of the room.

You closed the door silently behind you and pressed your back against it, exhaling deeply.

Your heart was pounding, but there was a strange, bittersweet comfort in this late night ritual of yours.

You knew you were becoming too attached to her. You knew this wasn’t entirely normal. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop yourself. Jinx had become her whole world—and you were terrified of losing that world of yours once again.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

"I’m telling you, this is gonna be the best sandcastle," Jinx declared, crouching down low to pat a misshapen lump of sand into shape once more, grinning with delight at her creation.

You, seated a few feet away and meticulously crafting spires and arches, glanced over at Jinx’s work. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the bluette. It’s not you being rude! It’s just… you cannot tell what she's even making anymore. She started off decent at the beginning of your little trip here - to which she suggested in the first place, and it now… kinda collapsed!

"Uh-huh. And what exactly is that supposed to be?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow before returning to look down at your sandcastle, fixing every little detail as meticulously as possible.

This is a lot more fun than you’d anticipated..

After all, you were once so focused on wallowing within your sorrow, never finding the time to genuinely appreciate any of the fun activities you could have here on the island. I mean, you were trapped here - why would you ever want to get comfortable with your surroundings if you were here unwillingly and hated every minute of it?

But with Jinx around?

It definitely makes it worth it..

"It’s a fortress, obviously!" Jinx replied indignantly at your inquiry as if it was some sort of offense, gesturing at the uneven walls.

“Gotta be ready for a sand invasion."

You shook your head before looking down at your own sandcastle, trying to hide your smile from the bluette.

"Well, I hope your fortress is sturdy, because my castle is going to outshine it in every way."

"Oh, it’s a competition now?" Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed a handful of wet sand and launched it in your direction. It splattered harmlessly against the ground near you!

"Jinx!" You gasped, pretending to be scandalized by the sudden bold action of the woman. You eventually retaliated with your own handful of sand, carefully aiming so it landed just shy of Jinx’s leg. Of course, just because you didn’t want to get her dirty once again, nor did you want to get dirty with sand. That stuff is horrible to get out! (Though, you probably won’t be able to avoid that)

The "sandcastle competition" quickly devolved into a full-blown sand fight, both of you laughing so hard you both could barely breathe as you launched sand ball after sand ball of each other, even getting up from where you were seated and rushing around the shore of the beach of your island.

When you both finally collapsed in the sand, covered in grit and panting from laughter, you glanced over at Jinx, your expression softening at the sight of her being so happy.

It filled your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling that never seemed to truly go away. Hell, every time you saw her it would fill your chest with that odd feeling, one you could not figure out for the life of you.

But.. it wasn’t unwelcome.

"You’re trouble," you said, brushing a stray strand of hair from the bluette’s face.

"Yeah," Jinx replied, grinning up at the sky.

"But you like it."

You could stay like this forever..

Later on upon cleaning each other up from the small sand fight the both of you had - you found yourselves simply sitting together on the cliff near the palace, letting the rhythm of the waves surrounding the island and the chirping of the birds fluttering on fill the silence.

Jinx leaned against your shoulder as the two of you watched the sunset. The warm hues of orange and pink bathed the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your heart definitely skipped a couple of beats, warmth spreading to your cheeks as you tried to remain calm in this situation.

For once? She seemed completely at peace.

You didn’t dare move of course, afraid that even the smallest shift might disturb the moment. So instead, you let your gaze drift over Jinx’s profile, your heart beating a little faster than usual.

"Do you ever think about what’s out there?" Jinx asked suddenly, her voice soft.

"Out where?" You replied, tilting your head slightly.

"Out there," Jinx repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon of your island.

"The people, the places. Everything I left behind."

Your expression grew somber at the mention, turning your gaze to look back over the horizon.

You haven’t left this island for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like out there. So many things have changed, but this little island of yours stayed the same, unchanging until Jinx arrived.

“Do you regret it?"

Jinx was quiet for a long moment, seemingly thinking about your words.

“Sometimes. I think about my sister, Violet or— Vi. About how I left her to scream and cry.”

"And then other times, I think about Ekko. About what could’ve been."

She let out a small, bitter laugh.

“But then I think about how it’d all probably go wrong anyway."

You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand gently over Jinx’s.

"You don’t have to run from it, you know." You turned your head once more, gazing down at Jinx as she rested upon your shoulder.

Then, Jinx turned to look at you, your faces closer than either of you realized.

“And what about you? You don’t run from anything?"

Your smile was faint but tinged with sadness.

"I’ve been running for a long time." You let out a small giggle, trying to make light out of the dark situation.

Your gazes lingered, unspoken words wishing to be said. But before either of you could say anything more, Jinx leaned back, breaking the moment.

“..I’m gonna go inside.”

And then she finally arose from the spot on the cliff before walking off, leaving to your lonesome once more.

As the days blended into weeks, and you found yourself tethered to Jinx in ways that… terrified you as much as they comforted you.

At first, it was innocent—a lingering glance here, a brush of your fingers there. But soon, it became something more consuming, an ache that twisted in your chest every time Jinx so much as wandered out of sight. (You don’t understand this. You hate it, but you love it because it makes you.. happy).

During the day, you were never far from Jinx’s side. Wherever Jinx went, you followed, often under the pretense of needing to “check on her.” Whether it was a quiet walk along the shoreline or a shared meal, your presence was a constant.

You insisted on carrying Jinx’s tools when she tinkered, your hands brushing against Jinx’s at every opportunity. You lingered in every hug that Jinx had finally submitted to, holding on just a little too long, your fingers tightening as if letting go might cause Jinx to vanish.

And at night? The same ritual would happen as you remembered. You tiptoed to Jinx’s room, your bare feet silent against the cool flooring of your palace. You’d push the door open just enough to peek inside, your gaze softening at the sight of Jinx sprawled out on the bed, her breathing deep and even.

You couldn’t help yourself.

You’d creep closer, your fingertips brushing a stray lock of blue hair from Jinx’s face, or even simply just fixing her position on the bed so she would be more comfortable and not have a horrible ache within her neck. Your heart would flutter at the faintest smile that graced the sleeping woman’s lips. Satisfied, you would then retreat to your own room, but sleep never came easily after.

The worry, the need to ensure Jinx was still there, always tugged at your mind.

So many have left you, hurt you, vanished before your very eyes due to the powers of the gods above as they cursed you for everything you’d done. Cursed you to this island.

But not this time.

Jinx will stay. You’re SURE of it!

Not only that: but hand-holding became as natural as breathing, your own fingers always lacing through Jinx’s whenever you both walked together. Jinx didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she seemed to enjoy the closeness!

The idea of Jinx leaving was unbearable. You couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Jinx’s arrival, the way your heart had soared for the first time in a century. You’d been so alone for so long, her only companions being the unchanging skies, the shining sun, and the whispering wind. Everyone left you, abandoned you to nothing because they HATED you. Hated you for what you’d done, for everything you had done.

Your fear of being alone forever became overwhelming after the last being had left your little island over a few years ago.

Now?

Jinx has become your entire world.

“You okay there, trinket?” Jinx’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hm?” You blinked, realizing you’d been staring at Jinx for far too long.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Jinx teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Usually, you’re fussing over me by now.”

“Hey! I’m not fussing,” you stammered, furrowing your brows.

“I’m just… making sure you’re okay. You have a horrible tendency to get hurt, you know!”

Jinx chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair.

“You worry too much, trinket. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were meant to reassure, but they struck you like a dagger.

The promise of permanence felt fragile, like glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. And you would not let that happen. Not now, not ever.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But the fear remained within you, gnawing at your mind non-stop.

As the days after passed, your behavior only intensified. You found yourself tracing Jinx’s movements, memorizing the way her hair caught the sunlight, the sound of her laugh, the curve of her smile. You cataloged every detail, desperate to hold onto the pieces of Jinx that made you feel alive.

Your need for Jinx’s presence grew insatiable, and while Jinx didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps didn’t mind, and you began to feel the weight of your own desperation. It wasn’t fair to Jinx, this suffocating need to keep her close, but you couldn’t stop yourself. After all, how could you, when Jinx was the only light in a world that had been so dark for so long? When everyone had chosen to leave you upon hearing the god’s messengers give them the opportunity.

Yet this woman didn’t.

She never left you!!

So, why wouldn’t you grow overprotective?

And as you sat together while watching the sunset, you couldn’t resist resting your head on Jinx’s shoulder, like she’d done a while ago. Your heart pounded as you felt Jinx relax into the gesture, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Pixie,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Jinx’s breath hitched. She wanted to say something, to confess the depths of her feelings, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply tightened her grip on your hand, praying that the moment wouldn’t end.

But deep down, she knew that she couldn’t keep living in fear. Something would have to give: whether it was her unspoken feelings or the fragile balance of your relationship.

This has become out of control.

You’ve become insane, haven’t you??

I mean- at first, Jinx didn’t even notice the depth of your little obsession. She’d connect the clinginess as an endearing gesture, even comforting. A gesture that you were fully trusting her now. Jinx had always been starved for affection herself, and your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx.. began to feel smothered.

The amount of you can recount that you’d stepped out of line made you feel sick the more you thought about it.

Like, even though this was unintentional, you had begun to subtly discourage Jinx from exploring the island on her own. Every time Jinx suggested going off by herself, you'd find excuses to tag along or subtly guilt-trip convince her into staying.

“I thought we could spend the day together. Aren’t I enough company?”

Your nightly checks had grown more intrusive. Instead of just brushing Jinx’s hair aside and leaving like you used to do, you’d linger, sitting by her bedside for hours, watching her sleep to ensure she was “safe.”

And as your behavior escalated, the thoughts of what you were doing became overwhelming, as you had become hyper aware of the fact that this was in fact becoming out of your control, how your clinginess worsened, everything.

You feel powerless. Too powerless to stop yourself.

Your loneliness and fear of abandonment—rooted in those centuries of isolation.. they only feed into your cycle.

You’d begun suppressing your emotions around the woman, sabotaging her independence, panicking at any separation.

And she finally picked up on all of it.

Though at first, Jinx didn’t not notice the depth of your obsession. Your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx had begun to feel smothered.

“You’ve been acting kinda weird lately, angel,” Jinx said, a playful lilt in her voice as you two sat together. She threw a pebble toward the water, watching it skip.

“Y’know, you don’t have to stick to me like glue. I’m not going anywhere, so you can chill.”

Your laugh came a little too quickly, a little too forced.

“I’m just looking out for you, Pixie.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing you at your response.

“Yeah, but looking out and hovering are two different things.”

You brushed the concern away with a soft smile, changing the subject almost instantly. Jinx let it go that day, but the unease lingered. She was used to people being interested in her, fascinated even (I mean with the Jinxers and all).

But this? This was starting to feel different.

And as days turned into weeks once more, and your behavior didn’t just persist—it grew.

You were always there: waiting by the door when Jinx left her room, hovering close whenever Jinx tinkered with something, insisting on being around for every little thing.

It didn’t take long for Jinx’s patience to wear thin.

“Why do you always have to hover?” Jinx snapped one day, her voice sharp with irritation. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pieces of a broken gadget sprawled before her. You were kneeling far too close, watching her hands move.

You flinched at the sudden question.

“I just want to help you—”

“I don’t need help!” Jinx interrupted, throwing her arms up.

“You think I can’t handle myself? ‘Cause I can. Been doing it my whole life!”

The words were harsh, sharper than Jinx intended, but they hit their mark. Your expression faltered, guilt clouding your features as you took a hesitant step back.

Jinx, although frustrated, rubbed the back of her neck, trying to keep her temper in check. She shouldn’t lash out at you like that.. You’ll learn to back off.

“I get it, okay? You care. But, trinket… you’ve gotta let me breathe.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, as neither of you said anything after that.

But still, you were once again staring down at her hands while Jinx grumbled to herself and returned to her work.

And despite her frustration, Jinx wasn’t blind. She saw the way your expression tightened when she walked out of the room, the hollow look that sometimes flickered across your face when you thought no one was watching. And as much as Jinx hated feeling stifled, she couldn’t ignore the pain driving your actions.

One night, after another particularly tense day for the both of you, Jinx finally confronted you. You both were sitting by the fireplace within the parlor, embers crackling. And as she had begun to speak, her tone softened.

“Look, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” she said quietly, drawing your attention. The goddess, or you, had been staring into the flames, lost in thought.

“But you’ve gotta stop acting like I’m gonna vanish the second you blink. I’m not some dream you’re gonna wake up from, angel.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Your hands trembled slightly in your lap as you shifted a bit, averting your gaze.

“I get it,” Jinx continued, her voice steadier now.

“You’ve been alone for a long time… and you’re scared. But this? This isn’t how it works.” She looked at you, even if you couldn’t see it - she couldn’t help the way her expression was softening even further.

“You don’t gotta hold me so tight to keep me around. I’m not going anywhere without a reason.”

You nodded faintly as your eyes returned to look her in the eyes, even with how uncomfortable it was.

But the look in YOUR eyes told Jinx that the message hadn’t fully landed.

But the real breaking point of this entire thing?

God, how did that even start again..

It was a couple days later when Jinx decided to venture off alone, desperate for some time to herself. She’d left early, without telling you where she was going.

And by the time she returned hours later?

She found you in a state of panic, your eyes wide and frantic.

When you noticed her, you immediately rushed over to her and gripped her shoulders, checking her to see if she had any injuries or anything out of the ordinary.

“Where were you?!” You demanded, your voice quivering with equal parts anger and desperation.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard at your sudden harsh tone.

“What’s your deal? I just went for a walk.”

“You didn’t say anything! You were gone—I didn’t know if something happened to you!” Your voice cracked, your usual calm composure slipping entirely. It’s like you were entirely different..

You are different however, aren’t you?

“I told you, I can’t lose you!”

Jinx’s temper finally flared at those last words you spoke, scoffing in response.

“Lose me?! I’m not some possession you can just keep tabs on all day!” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“I can’t breathe with you around all the time! You say you care about me, but this isn’t care—it’s control!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Bleeding out right in the pouring cold rain as it had once before.

You took a step back, tears already streaming down your face as you stared at her, arms wrapping yourself as a failed attempt to make yourself feel comforted.

“I’m sorry!” you choked out, your voice broken.

“I just… I can’t lose you! You’re all I have, Jinx. You don’t understand, you’re everything to me! You changed everything for me!”

Jinx faltered, caught between anger and guilt. Your desperation was raw, real, and heartbreaking.

But Jinx couldn’t ignore how suffocating it had become.

“This isn’t healthy,” Jinx said, quieter now but firm.

“You can’t live like this. And you can’t make me the only thing you’ve got.”

You almost instantly crumpled under the weight of Jinx’s words, retreating into yourself as you sobbed quietly. Jinx watched you, torn between frustration and empathy, unsure of how to fix what had shattered between the two of you you.

“..I’m sorry.”

And with that, you immediately rushed out of the palace from the door that Jinx had walked in from, never stopping for a second as she called out for you. You ran for as long as you could, never stopping for a second until you had collapsed to the ground from how long you had ran.

For as small as this island may seem, you’re somewhat shocked at how big it seemed as you ran through the forest, feet aching.

Eventually, you settled on resting on the forest floor, refusing to return to the palace.

Who would want to be there with a monster such as yourself?

Maybe the gods should just keep you locked up in a cage, where you could never harm anyone ever again.

In the days that followed, your absence was palpable. You withdrew entirely from being a part of Jinx’s life, ashamed of your own behavior and terrified that you’d ruined everything. You refused to eat, refused to even sleep some nights. Even with how tempting the idea of returning back to the palace seemed, you restrained yourself - reminded of what had happened days prior.

And so you remained on the island, simply lingering around anywhere where Jinx couldn’t find you (for the most part).

She’d seen your hair a few times, but when she had called out for you once more? You vanished.

As if you were never there to begin with.

Jinx couldn’t shake the memory of your desperation. She knew what loneliness felt like: what it meant to cling to something, anything, to keep yourself from drowning.

It’s because of that you’d become like this..

You were so kind, so calm and caring before. But this corruption had already sunk its claws into you, forcing you to anxiety and insecurity.

And eventually, Jinx sought you out.

She found you sitting alone at the edge of the beach, staring out at the endless horizon with your knees close to your chest.

Jinx sat beside you, the silence stretching between you both.

“Come to berate me?” You muttered, voice tired and wavering.

“What?”

“You’re justified for doing so.. I just… I don’t even know anymore. I can’t even apologize normally anymore because of these stupid feelings.” You buried your face into your knees, tears threatening to form within the corners of your eyes.

“I’m so sorry. You never deserved that, and yet I did it anyway. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a normal being, haven’t I? Being banished here, no human interaction for so long..” Jinx stared at you for a long moment before sighing, averting her gaze.

And then, she spoke.

“Y’know, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

You didn’t respond, but Jinx pressed on.

“You’re more than just… whatever you think you are to me. You’ve got this place, this life as a goddess. You don’t need to hang everything on me.”

You raised your head and turned it head slightly, your eyes red and tired.

“But what if you leave?..”

Jinx let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

“Yeah, well… you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy.” She nudged tour shoulder gently, her tone softening.

“But you gotta trust me. And more than that, you gotta trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think, trinket. You don’t need to hold me so tight to know I’m here.”

You didn’t reply right away, but something in your core shifted. It wasn’t immediate, and it wouldn’t be easy, but it was a start.

That feeling of hope once more.

Hope that you’d felt with her alone once again.

For both of you.

The rain pattered lightly against the palace windows, the warm air inside a comforting contrast to the storm outside. You moved through the halls, a plate of Jinx's favorite meal in your hands. Your expression was bright, softened by the anticipation of Jinx's reaction. You both had gotten on better terms once more, figuring out what to do so it couldn’t get so bad.

Of course, you still had a few issues to work through still.. but you were willing to do so for her!

"Pixie!" You called out with a cheerful lilt, your voice echoing down the corridor as you finally made it to the bluette’s room.

No response.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you continued forward nonetheless, pushing open the door to her room. You could see that Jinx was hunched over her desk, her posture stiff as she fidgeted with some new contraption she was working on. You felt your smile return, feeling more calm by understanding that she was busy and not ignoring purposefully.

You know she has quite the tendency to get lost within her work, focusing entirely on it and NOTHING else!

Quickly, you cleared your throat and approached the woman.

"Pixie? Are you alright? I brought you some food—"

"Get out."

The words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You almost immediately froze in place, blinking in disbelief at the sudden harsh tone.

"Pardon?.." You asked softly, your voice tinged with more confusion than anything.

Jinx turned to face you, her eyes wild, her voice louder now.

“I said, get OUT! Are you deaf?!"

Your hands trembled at how she spoke to you, confused and concerned of what was going on. Carefully, you set the plate down on a nearby table before immediately returning your attention to the woman, determined to figure out what was causing all of this.

"Pixie… What's going on? Why are you acting—“

Before you could even finish, Jinx’s hand lashed out. The slap was swift and cold, and the worse part? She slapped you with what you KNEW was the hand with that metal finger of hers. The stinging against your cheek felt like it was burning, and the sound echoed in the room, followed by a silence so deafening it felt like everything just stopped in time.

You just stood there, stunned, one hand slowly rising to touch the tender skin of your cheek. Your wide eyes locked onto Jinx, who looked equally horrified, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just done to you.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. And so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

The days that followed were heavy with unspoken words. Jinx and you had barely exchanged a GLANCE since the incident, hell - barely even being in the same room together!! Jinx claimed she didn’t remember saying those things, but as for you… you weren’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was all part of the gods’ plan; to drive a wedge between you two, to make you suffer, as they always had.

So when they came to you in the middle of the night as you were at the beach, coming to tell you the most devastating news of your life. You haven’t slept all night after hearing them either..

And so now you’re here at the beach once more, your back against a jagged rock, your feet brushing the cold stone path. In your hand, you twirled a blue flower, its delicate petals soft and fresh. You sighed, your chest tightening as you heard the faint clinking of metal tools nearby.

Peeking out from behind the rock, you saw Jinx tinkering with another bomb. The sight made your heart ache. Her hands moved deftly, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that reminded you of that very day.

You stood, clutching the flower tightly to gather the courage before you made your way toward Jinx. The sound of your footsteps were nearly drowned out by the rhythmic crashing of the waves.

“Someone arrived today,” you said with a blank tone, standing a little to Jinx’s right.

Jinx froze, her hands pausing mid-motion. You quickly continued.

“They said they’re taking you away… ‘that you’re not mine to save’.” You stepped closer, your voice trembling ever so slightly as you spoke.

“And soon I won’t get to see your face.”

With a delicate carefulness, you placed the blue flower behind Jinx’s ear, your fingers brushing against her hair as though you were handling the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“So I came by to say: You’re unlike anyone I have ever known.” Her hand lingered near Jinx’s shoulder for a moment longer than needed, before pulling away.

“Because you’re all I’ve ever known.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“The ones before you refused to tell me anything, refused to trust me. I knew nothing but their faces.” You elaborated, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“And if I pushed you, or if I came on too strong at any time, or if I ambushed you… for that, I’ll say I was wrong.” Your voice cracked, though you continued.

“And if you hate me..” the words came out like poison, bitter and sharp as the taste lingered on your tongue, tears threatening to spill.

“..then I am sorry for that, I truly am. But I’m not sorry for loving you.”

“Trinket..” Jinx’s voice was quiet, almost just that of a whisper, but you cut her off with a raised hand.

“Let me speak!” You cried out, raising your voice.

“I spent my whole life here! I was cast away when I was young. Alone for a hundred years! I had no friends but the sky and sun!” Your voice cracked as memories of your past flooded her mind. The years you spent alone, your freedom being taken away from you, watching all of your kind being murdered - your own father killed before you. Being forced to even participate in a war you never wished to..

“So when you washed ashore… I thought for sure that you were my dream come true. I thought I knew…” You paused, thinking about your next words.

“I don’t even know anymore.. that you’d like me? But I guess I didn’t, did I? That I was too foolish to think that? Huh?”

You turned sharply, your tone cold.

“So I guess this is goodbye, Jinx. I hope you’re happy… after all, you’ll never see me again.”

You began to walk away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can’t watch her being taken away. As much as she hurt you, you just can’t.

“Trinket, wait!” Jinx’s voice was doused with desperation — but just as Jinx reaches where you had been moments ago, you were gone. Fading into some sort of mist like an unreachable dream.

The ocean wind whips around her, carrying the faint echoes of your words, reminiscing around as if to taunt her further about the crushing reality that is her future.

And she stands there, not knowing what to do.

Calypso!Reader and Jinx masterlist

173 notes · View notes

w3irdo666 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I wasn't sure if you were accepting requests at the moment

but can I get (romantic) Alastor x Lucifer's ex Seraphim Angel wife who he left plz?

S/o eventually left Heaven and still got to keep their wings and powers before it got taken. They meet him around the time he got to Hell and they hit it off

Anything else is up to you if you'd like

Oh, interesting idea!! I'll try my best, love youuu!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

The Drug In Me Is You

Alastor x Fem!reader x ex!Lucifer

Letter count:

Tags: slightly angst, sfw, slightly possesive behaviour, depression.

Notes: I hope i understood you right!!! Enjoy!!

Lucifer was a wonderful husband.. Constantly enveloped you in love. It seemed to you that you could not dream of anything more. Romantic dates, beautiful clothes, oh, you thought that you would drown in his care.... Which is what happened. Lucifer was undoubtedly magnificent a man...But not a great husband...When you got married, your joy knew no bounds...but...

A year later, you began to notice that he began to pay less attention to you. In the evening, he no longer went to you to cuddle in bed, but just turned his back to you and fell asleep.When you wanted to hug him, threw your hand away and answered annoyed, “Leave me alone.”

One day you were walking through a magnificent garden in paradise. The beauty of nature has always delighted you. Oh, these magnificent scarlet roses.. They look so fragile that it seems that if you touch them, they will fall into small pieces... Birds sang and flew in the sky .Everything was so wonderful, you even forgot about your husband for a while...But suddenly you heard someone’s voice. Your wings trembled slightly, not expecting that someone would be there. You came closer to the source of the sound and, hiding behind a tree, looked whose it was a voice...

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt tears running down your cheeks, like blades piercing your skin.Lucifer stood with another woman. His smile....he had not smiled as much as he smiled at this woman for a long time.You were hurt, terribly. He betrayed you. You were on the verge of hysterics. Turning around, you ran away, sobbing and wiping your tears with your hands.

Everything around you seemed so fake. These light clouds. Birds, flowers, plants. You flapped your three wings and quickly flew. Where? You didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t where you were flying from.

..............................................................................................................

The next few days were a blur. You felt terrible, you suffered. Lucifer, betrayed you? You couldn’t accept it. When Lucifer was kicked out of Heaven because he got involved with a demon, you didn’t care anymore. You used to be a very joyful archangel. Everyone called you a ray of sunshine. But now... There were black bags under your eyes because of lack of sleep. Your eyes are red, tear-stained. Your condition was immediately noticed by other angels.

“Y/n, honey, are you okay....?” One day an archangel turned to you, concerned about your condition. But she was only met with a few rude words. This alerted her. Soon the angels began to avoid you. The archangels thought about making a decision about your expulsion. But before they could do anything, you expelled yourself. Having opened the portal, you descended into hell. “If I suffer here... It won’t be worse there..” You thought.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. A few days later, you sat curled up in a ball in some alley of hell. Your clothes were torn in some places, your wings were tattered, you felt emptier than an empty glass.Your tired eyes were closed. Your face was buried in your knees. You were so tired that you didn’t even have the strength to cry. Suddenly, you heard someone’s voice. It felt like someone was talking on the radio.

"What are you doing here, dear.With those...wings.Aren't you supposed to be in heaven?" His static voice sounded confident.

You raised your head slightly and opened your eyes. You saw a strange sinner in front of you... He was different from many of those you saw here. He was dressed in a beautiful fitted red suit, his black bow tie was beautifully attached to his shirt. He had a big smile on his face, showing his yellow, sharp teeth. His eyes were calm, but you could see a slight mockery in them.He had black gloves on his hands, and in one of his hands he held a red microphone on a stick.

"W...what do you want...?" You asked in a quiet, pitiful voice. You heard him laugh slightly.

"Ah, nothing important, dear, just curious what such.... creature..like you doing here?" He tilted his head to the side with slight -crack-.

"Who are you...?" You said weakly

"Ah, name's Alastor.Pleasure to meeting you! Quite a pleasure!" He bowed while saying this. You didn't say anything, only looked down at the ground. He continued watching you for few seconds then walked closer to you, standing in front of you.

Alastor couldn't help, but when he saw you, something woke up in him.He was in hell only few month, but still made reputation of dangerous cruel demon.But when he saw your poor, beautiful body, his heart skipped a beat. He felt a strange pull to protect you.

"Such an innocent soul..." he thought

............................................................................................................

You didn't know how it happened, but you find yourself in....his apartment...? With Alastor in front of you.There was a cup of tea in front of you. You looked at your reflection in the tea. You looked terrible. Shabby dirty hair, tired face...The demon continued to look at you, drinking his coffee. His smile never fell, you didn’t even care.

Your weak hand reached for the cup of tea. Fragile fingers clasped the handle of the tea, but your hands were too weak to lift the cup. Alastor noticed this and his eyes narrowed slightly. He put his cup on the saucer. Crossing his legs, he leaned back, watching you.

No matter how he tried to find pleasure in your suffering and raise the cup, he did not feel good. He felt sympathy for you, and a desire to protect. He slowly stood up and approached you.His beautiful long fingers took a cup of tea from your hand and brought the cup to your lips. Slightly surprised by such actions, you looked at the demon.

Opening your lips slightly, you started drinking tea with small sips.

After tea and some food (Alastor feed you too) Alastor showed you way to the bathroom, you needed it.You looked like complete mess.Alastor provided you with a towel, after which you went into the bathroom.When you came out of the bath, prepared clothes were waiting for you... Or rather, a shirt and pants...

When you were changing clothes, Alastor came into the room. He was amazed by your beauty. Your hair.. your smooth skin... Ah, those beautiful wings... He felt his pulse increase.His smile and eyes began to give off shades of warmth.

..............................................................................................................

You lived with Alastor for a long time.You became very close, you started to feel better. Every evening, over a cup of tea, he listened to your worries and sufferings... Usually he would have enjoyed this, but with you, he only felt the desire to calm you down. Every day spent with Alastor gave you more strength, and made you forget Lucifer.

In a hell full of lustful sinners and murderers, you have found comfort in a dangerous demon.No, he wasn't just a demon for you, Alastor, this soul..When he woke up in the evening because of your sobs in the next room, he would sigh and get up heading towards you. When he approaches you, he will lie down next to you and hug you. He hates touching.... But for you he will do anything.He would kill for a feeling of your wings wrap around him when you relax after telling him what bothering you.

When the angels officially kicked you out of heaven, you didn't care so much anymore.You cared only about one thing...only about one person...only about Alastor.

........................................................................................................

"Alastor, where are we?" You asked as you looked around.You were in some kind of garden. Although the flowers were not as luxurious as in heaven, life was visible in them... They looked so bewitching.Alastor coughed and turned away from you. You looked at him in surprise, not understanding his behavior.

"Alastor...?" You almost reached with your hand to his shoulder, but he quickly turned to you.

"Y/n.." Alastor began. His smile was on his face as usual, but you saw the uncertainty in his eyes when he turned to you with one black rose in his hand.You lowered your hand. Oh, how beautiful this rose was... Like an angel of death...

"yes..?"

"i....love you." He extended his hand with the rose towards you. His other hand was tightly gripping his microphone. Your cheeks turned slightly red due to the blush. You felt your heart beating faster and as if butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.He turned his head away, looking away.Without wasting a second, you grabbed his wrist with one hand and turned his face in your direction with the other. Alastor tensed at the contact, but when he felt your soft, plump lips on his, he almost melted.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to penetrate. You let out a slight moan as your tongues intertwined.

After a few seconds, you pulled away each other. from each other and looked into each other's eyes. You smiled. Your cheeks were flushed with blush, but you were happy to think about it.

"I love you too."

Notes: I hope you liked it!!! Sorry that i didn't lost for a while (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠)

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfiction

749 notes · View notes

schemmentigfs · 6 months ago

Text

Sweetening The Deal. (part 11.)

Summary: your first time with Melissa Schemmenti is the equivalent of paradise on its purest form.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @kukikatt @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Good girl. Those words easily made your heart stop.

When Melissa Schemmenti calls you her good girl, your heart stirs, like a soft breeze brushing over still water. It’s not just a phrase; it’s a tender thread that weaves through the fabric of your very soul, a gentle, sweet ache that dances between your ribs and settles deep in your chest. It’s an affirmation, one that feels like a secret, only between you and her, a promise in her voice that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

The words slip from the redheaded woman’s lips with such ease, but for you, they carry weight, like a whispered prayer, as if you are hearing it for the first time, yet it's a song you have known all your life. It’s not the words themselves but the way they make you feel��a delicate, almost fragile thing, cherished in its own raw vulnerability. The simplicity of it makes you feel seen, in a way that nothing else can. Like the world outside has quieted, leaving only the space between their hearts, where you are both held and adored, soft but strong.

You have always been wary of your own worth, but in that moment, when she speaks those two words, it feels as though the air around you is charged, thick with the warmth of unconditional acceptance. It’s a balm to the wounds you hide so carefully, a kind of softness that pierces through you, unraveling the pieces of yourself that were once too guarded. It’s not submission but a gentle surrender—one that she offers freely, knowing it is not demanded but given, as a gift, as a love so complete it makes her tremble.

As red lips and flat tongue trail down your folds, every inch of your skin ignites with sensation, a heat that spreads like wildfire. The feeling is intimate, consuming, every touch of this mouth marking you as hers. It’s not just physical; it’s a slow unraveling, a delicate surrender to the pleasure that only Melissa knows how to give.

There’s a rawness in it, an intensity that draws every part of her attention to the present moment, to the way she moves with such purpose, with such reverence. Every breath you take is sharp, caught somewhere between longing and release, as her warmth spreads over your most sensitive and delicate parts.

Your body arches instinctively, seeking more, chasing the heady mixture of tenderness and heat. The contrast between the green eyed woman’s pure softness and the firm press of her tongue causes your mind to scatter, every thought becoming a blur, except for the overwhelming sensation of being loved in this way. It’s not just physical pleasure, but something deeper—a melding of their souls, a raw and beautiful intimacy that goes beyond skin. The rhythm of her mouth is rhythmic, almost hypnotic, drawing her deeper into the abyss of pleasure and trust.

Your hands clutch the sheets, the cool fabric grounding you as every nerve in your body sings with want. The feeling of Melissa’s pink tongue, so deliberate and skilled, makes you pulse with a kind of desperate need, one that only this moment, only this connection can fill. This is where you belong—here, in those strong arms, in the softness of her touch and the strength of her love. The world outside of this room, outside of this bond, no longer exists. There is only this, only the deep trust you feel in the way she takes her time, in the way she listens to your body and answers with devotion.

As Melissa continues, each movement, each kiss on your most sensitive parts, feels like a prayer, a reverent act of worship, and you can’t help but surrender completely, allowing yourself to be consumed, to be adored in this way. Your heart races in tandem with the rhythm of their intimacy, the pressure building inside, a delicious tension that tightens in your chest and lower belly. The pleasure swells inside you, and with every stroke, every subtle shift of her mouth, you are definitely overwhelmed with the sensation of being both cherished and owned. Good girl is still in your ears, and it hums within you like a constant echo, reminding you of the love that laces every action, every touch.

Her tongue finds its destination with deliberate precision, the warm, wet pressure against your harden clit drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. It’s not gentle, not tentative—Schemmenti knows exactly what she’s doing, and the confidence in her movements sends a jolt of electricity through your body. Your thighs tremble, but the redhead’s manicured hands are there, firm and steady, gripping your hips and thighs to hold you in place, as if grounding you to this moment. Her grip is possessive, her nails pressing just enough to leave a hint of sensation that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure.

A sweet sound of Melissa’s needy moan vibrates against your pussy, and the sensation sends your head spinning, back arching off the mattress as a raw curse spills from you. “Fuck, baby. That tounge feels so good.”

The words come out breathless, broken, and you can barely recognize your own voice. The heat pooling in your belly intensifies as your possible girlfriend’s tongue moves in perfect rhythm, flicking and circling your clit, each motion calculated to pull you closer and closer to the edge.

The older woman doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter. Instead, she hums softly, almost smugly, against you, the vibrations shooting sparks of pleasure up your damn spine. Moans mix with the wet, sinful sounds of her mouth working tirelessly, and the combination is enough to drive you wild. Your palms clutch at the sheets again, twisting them as your body writhes, caught between trying to pull away from the intensity and pressing closer to ride Melissa’s sinful mouth.

“Goddamn, Lis, please—” your voice is ragged, laced with desperation, the words slipping out between sharp breaths. Your figure is alight, every nerve ending focused on the way Melissa’s tongue lavishes attention on your clit, alternating between firm, slow strokes and quick, teasing flicks. Hands tighten on your shaky thighs, pulling them even wider apart as if she needs more of you, all of you. The possessiveness in her grip, the raw hunger in her moans, sends shivers down your soul spine, teetering on the brink.

Her relentless tongue doesn’t falter for a second, but soon, you feel the unmistakable press of her fingers, teasing at your dripping entrance. It’s slow at first, deliberate, as though Melissa is savoring every moment of your unraveling. The sensation of her sucking and circling your pebble paired with the gentle, probing touch of her digits pulls a broken moan from your throat, her body convulsing as you gasp for air.

Green eyes look at you while she takes her time, sliding one finger in, curling it perfectly to find that spot that makes more curses spill out uncontrollably. “Fuck, Melissa, oh my—”

Your tone is trembling, desperate, every word dragged out by the pleasure coursing through you. She grunts against your tight cunt in response, the vibrations sparking another jolt of electricity through your core. The thing is she knows exactly what she’s doing, knows how to pull you apart with maddening precision.

“Such a good girl for me,” Melissa murmurs against you, her tone husky and dripping with affection, even as she adds a second finger, stretching just enough to make you whine sharply. Her praise, her touch—it’s too much and not enough all at once, and your hips buck against her, seeking more, chasing the fire that’s building higher and higher inside you.

The redhead’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you steady as her fingers pump in and out in perfect rhythm, her mouth leaving your clit to lick and plug your entrance. The combination is dizzying, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge, every flick sending you spiraling further into bliss. She moans again, the sound satisfying and deep, vibrating through you in a way that makes your whole vision blur.

“Babe,” you grab her auburn curls as tightly as you can. “I need to cum, please.”

You pant and break, words dissolving into a sharp cry as fingers curl just right, hitting that spot with an intensity that leaves you shaking. It feels like everything it’s on fire, every nerve alight with sexual tension, your mind lost in the sensation of Melissa Ann Catarina Schemmenti consuming you completely. The pure wet, obscene sounds of fingers moving inside you combined with the strong scent of sex filling the bedroom, soft hum of her tongue on your pussy it’s overwhelming, intoxicating.

Melissa looks up briefly, her olive eyes blazing with hunger, the sight alone enough to make you tremble. “C’mon, pretty girl,” she commands. “Let me feel you. Cum for me.”

This is the final push, and with one last nurse of her tongue, one perfect thrust of her fingers, you fall apart completely, your figure shuddering violently as the climax of the orgasm rips through you. Curses melt into incoherent cries and screams, your hips trembling as the forty-five year old holds you through it, her mouth and fingers working her through every wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling and begging for rest.

Minutes pass and she pulls away just long enough to hover over you, her breath heavy and ragged as her hands grip your hips, positioning you just right. She spreads your legs wide, guiding you into position so that your bodies can press together, your clits brushing softly at first, then harder, the friction sending a rush of heat through both of you. It’s new, unfamiliar—raw and intimate—and every touch, every shift makes it feel like the world is unraveling around you and her.

Your heart stops at the first contact, the electric spark between you making your stomach tighten. Melissa moans loud, her eyes fluttering closed as the sensation builds, as your pussies slide against each other in a maddening rhythm. The sound is guttural, needy, like a prayer escaping her lips. Her hands grip your thighs, her fingers digging in as if she’s trying to hold on to this moment, but nothing feels like it’s enough. Nothing is slow enough, soft enough.

“God, fuck, you feel so good,” the older woman gasps, shaky and raw, her tone breathless and frantic as she rolls her hips against yours, feeling your buds rub together in an agonizingly slow, steady motion. Olive eyes flutter open, locking with yours, and she watches your face, her mouth parted with each breathless whimper that escapes.

“Melly,” you try to speak but she interrupts quickly.

“You like this? Yeah, I know you do. So fuckin’ perfect,” Melissa groans, her pupils blow with desire. “Jesus, you’re making me lose my mind.”

Your own breath is ragged, your nails scratching her curves as both bodies grind together. The friction is intense, and yet the two of you seem to hold back, not letting the release come too soon. You are caught in the building pressure, each movement pushing further toward the edge without quite letting you fall.

“Ohh shit, yes, yes, yes!” your body shudders as you try to hold on, but Melissa doesn’t let you escape. She keeps pushing, keeps rolling her hips harder against yours— almost bouncing—every moment an invitation to something more.

She breaks, her moan deep and drawn out, almost a growl. “Don’t you dare cum yet, baby,” she whispers desperately. “I need to give you permission first.”

The redheaded woman forces herself to slow down, to keep the pressure building, her green eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to hold onto the feeling without giving in. The heat builds and builds, your bodies slick with sweat, and each brush against each other sends both of you spiraling closer to the orgasm without releasing.

“Please...” you beg while trembling with need, hips rising to meet each press of hers, desperate for more. The tension is unbearable, both of you are teetering on the brink, lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies so close, so intertwined.

Melissa can hardly breathe, her movements becoming frantic as she chases the same release that you do, but neither gives in. “Holy fuck, honey, I can’t—” she gasps, her voice a broken plea, as her hips grind harder, faster, chasing the feeling, losing herself in your warmth. “You are so sweet, so warm. So delicious.”

The sexual tension is obvious, like a coil tightening, but then, a small shift in the way you move catches her off guard—your hand slides down, palm flat, and then wraps around the curve of her pale ass, squeezing it firmly. The sudden touch sends a jolt of heat through the sicilian, a wave of arousal that makes her entire body tighten with want.

She whimpers, louder now, her lashes fluttering as the sensation of your hand on her ass forces her to slow down just for a moment, savoring the feeling of being held, of being claimed in such an intimate way after a long time. The pressure of your palm is possessive, urgent, and it stirs something deep within Melissa. She can feel your fingertips digging into the flesh of her ass, the way it moves in a slow, teasing circle, feeling the curve and muscle beneath her skin. It’s like a spark, igniting the very core of her desire.

Your grip on her ass tightens, squeezing again, pulling her closer, and Melissa’s breath catches in her throat. The touch is everything—dominant, possessive, and incredibly tender all at once—and it sends shivers down her spine. It makes her feel raw, vulnerable, as if this connection is something far more than just sex. It’s an unspoken claim, a promise, a shared understanding.

“For fuck’s sake. Keep touching me like that," the redhead gasps, her breath hitching as she moves against you. ”I need you, amore. I need you... so bad.”

The connection deepens with every touch, every movement. It’s like you’re both desperately holding on to each other, not wanting to break the spell, not yet ready to give in completely. The heat between you grows unbearable, as the beautiful Melissa Schemmenti continues to feel the steady pressure of your hand, the way you hold her, owns her in this moment. Every stroke, every grind, pulls you both closer and closer to the release you can’t hold off much longer.

And just like that a single word escapes from your deep throat, breathy and trembling, a word that sends an electric shock through her entire body. “Mommy.”

The title hits Melissa like a punch to the gut, a shock of raw desire shooting through her veins. She freezes for a second. She stops. She swears she can feel her heart skip a beat, her mind barely able to process how right it sounds coming from your lips.

The way you say it, soft but desperate, the word laced with something possessive and needy, ignites something deep inside of her. A wave of heat floods her body, her core tightening with an almost primal lust. Mommy—green eyes flash with something else, something raw and untamed as the word reverberates in her head, making her head spin. She’s been called Mommy before by other women and men, but never like this—not with such unrestrained need, such will. It’s as if you poured your entire soul into that single word, and it wraps around Melissa like a vice, pulling her deeper into this moment. Her breathing fails, her manicured hands trembling slightly before they grip you tighter, her hips grinding down harder as the sensation threatens to undo her completely.

The green eyed woman groans, before she’s leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, her mouth hot and demanding. The kiss is intense, filled with heat and Melissa can’t stop herself from pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as her fingers dig into your flushed skin.

“Fuck, don’t say that,” she growls against your mouth. “You’re gonna make me insane.” The plea come out between hungry kisses, her lips hot against yours, as she starts to kiss you more fiercely, more urgently. Each time your lips meet, she can feel the tension rising, her body on the edge of giving in completely. She bites down on your lower lip, tugging it gently, as her hands slide to your hips, guiding her into a rhythm that makes both shudder.

“Mommy, please fuck me,” you whine, seeking for more.

“Mommy....goddamn,” Melissa curses, the satisfaction in her voice unmistakable. She can’t control the way her body reacts to the word, the way it pulls her deeper into the moment, closer to the madness of this connection. It feels like a dangerous secret, a boundary crossed, and she can’t help but kiss you harder, more desperately.

Bodies move against each other, the friction making the world blur around you, your kisses messy and frantic as the two of you chase that dizzying height. Your hand grips auburn curls, tugging her closer, urging her to continue, and with every touch, every kiss, the Schemmenti woman feels herself unraveling more, her control slipping.

“You like that, don’t you?” she prompts between kisses. “You like calling me Mommy.”

“I-I do,” you agree as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you. The way Melissa is kissing you, everything about this feels urgent, almost desperate. It’s as though you are both clinging to something, unwilling to let go, pushing forward without hesitation.

The redheaded woman sees the nod, the silent agreement, and her body takes over, moving faster, harder, the rhythm building into something electric. She lets out a breathy moan, feeling your body press into hers, the friction becoming a steady wave of pleasure that floods through her. Each thrust, each roll of her hips, makes feel like her control is slipping, losing its grip as she pushes harder, her figure desperate for cumming.

“Holy fuck, this is the best thing I ever felt in all my life,” Melissa grunts.

She moves faster, her movements becoming more frantic, more intense. She feels your hands clutching at her back, pulling her closer, encouraging her to go deeper, to give you more. The pace quickens, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the air as her sharp nails dig in, guiding your movements as you become almost frantic in their need for each other.

“Say it again,” the older woman breathes, her words a desperate plea, her mouth hovering just over your ear. “Call me mommy again, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Mommy,” you smile softly and the word along with the grin has the power to send Melissa into a frenzy.

“That’s it,” she mutters. “Fuck, you’re mine. All mine.”

The speed escalates as the pressure mounts, Melissa’s movements become more urgent. Her breath hitches, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she feels herself on the edge, just a moment away from falling into the intensity of your shared climax.

Her face twists, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through her usually composed exterior. It’s a moment of rawness, of surrender, and it’s impossible for her to hide it. The muscles in her jaw tighten as she moans softly, her lips parting as she gasps for air. Her olive eyes, usually so full of control, now glimmer with something desperate, something wild. Her brows furrow in pleasure, her mouth opening as she chokes out a low, broken curse.

“Fuck,” she gasps barely more than a breath. “I’m going to cum. Please babygirl, make Mommy come.” The look on her face, that unmistakable sign of the climax building inside her, makes her pant harder. She presses her forehead against yours, lips barely brushing as she moves faster, harder, chasing the moment she knows is about to explode.

You see it—see the raw expression on her symmetrical face, the way her muscles strain, the way she’s losing herself in the intensity of their connection. It’s a moment of pure vulnerability, one that strips away any walls, any barriers. And it only drives you to meet her with equal fervor, pushing both to the edge, to the precipice of everything you have been building.

Melissa’s grip tightens, her breathing becoming ragged as she lets out a strangled cry. It’s clear now—she’s right there, on the edge, and everything inside her is unraveling in waves of heat. Her glistening lips part, her green eyes half-closed, and for a moment, she’s lost to the intensity of it, no longer able to hold back, no longer caring if she shows how close she is.

In that moment, it’s impossible to ignore the raw, unfiltered truth in her expression. She’s coming undone, and it’s the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

As you and her reach the edge, the tension in the air snaps, and everything comes crashing down in waves. Melissa’s curvy body tenses as her breath catches in her throat, the rush of pleasure flooding through her. She gasps, a low, guttural moan escaping her lips as she finally gives in, her body shuddering uncontrollably on top of you. Her grip loosens slightly, her hand falling to the bed as she breathes out a string of curses, the overwhelming sensation of release pulling her further into the moment.

You follow close behind, the feeling of your souls and bodies connecting, sending you spiraling into your own climax. It’s like an explosion, a wave of warmth and satisfaction that fills you completely.

When it’s over, when the tremors slowly fade, Melissa pulls away, her body slumping back onto the bed. She rolls onto her back, her arm coming over her eyes to shield herself from the harsh light. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as the aftermath of everything lingers in her body. She feels exhausted, her muscles sore, but it’s a good kind of ache.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph…” the redhead giggles on a hushed rasp. She doesn’t even move at first, letting herself bask in the quiet aftermath, feeling the soft sheets beneath her. The world feels like it’s slowed down, like time has stopped for just a moment, and she can finally catch her breath.

Her arm remains across her eyes, a shield from the vulnerability she feels in the aftermath. It’s not shame, not exactly—just the rawness of the moment, of everything she just shared. She’s always been one to keep her composure, to stay in control, but now, in this quiet afterglow, she lets herself be a little exposed.

“Fuck..” she says again, quieter this time, as she tries to steady her breathing, still feeling the thrum of their connection coursing through her. “That was...” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Words feel unnecessary now, and instead, she just exhales deeply, her arm slowly lowering as she lets herself relax into the bed, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath.

Slowly, you reach out, her fingers gentle as you brush it against Melissa’s arm, sliding it away from her face.

The forty-five year old doesn’t resist. She lets you uncover her, her arm falling limply to the side, revealing flushed cheeks and strands of auburn hair sticking to her damp forehead. Her skin glistens with sweat, and her lips are parted slightly, still swollen from the kisses. Olive eyes flutter open, hazy and dazed, and for a moment, she just stares back at you, her breathing still uneven.

You cup her face delicately, thumbs brushing over the soft, warm skin of her cheeks. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, flushed, and utterly spent—sends a wave of affection through you. Melissa Schemmenti, who’s always so composed and in control, now looks completely undone, her green eyes soft and filled with something unspoken

“You’re so beautiful,” you sigh quitely.

Red lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “You're staring,” though there’s no real protest behind the words. If anything, there’s a softness there, a quiet vulnerability she rarely shows.

“I can’t help it. You’re... breathtaking like this.”

The woman chuckles weakly, the sound more like a breathless exhale. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” Her hand comes up to rest over yours, holding it gently against her cheek. She leans into the touch, letting herself relax completely for the first time, her walls completely down.

Hours later, the night casted shadows that danced on the walls. Melissa and you lay tangled together in the aftermath of everything, your bodies entwined in a warm cocoon of sheets and limbs. She was resting her head on your chest, her body draped over yours, her soft breaths creating a gentle rhythm as she pressed her lips to your skin in the quiet moments between kisses.

“You're my beautiful girl,” your lover whispered, the praise full of meaning, more intimate than anything she had said before. She lifted her head just enough to look into your eyes, her expression tender, her auburn hair tousled from the night. Her fingers brushed against your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw as if memorizing the feel of you.

“Yeah?” you prompted nervously but still gently.

“Actually…my girlfriend,” the redheaded woman added, her voice a little more tentative, but no less genuine.

A soft giggle bubbled up from your chest as you shifted, bringing her closer as you rolled onto your side, your arms wrapped around her waist. You kissed her again, slow and sweet, not rushed but languid, the kind of kiss that carried everything you couldn’t quite put into words.

The weight of the moment was heavy in the best way possible, and you found yourself smiling as your fingers tangled in her hair. “I love you.”

For a split second, the world seemed to stop. Melissa gulped, her eyes widening, searching yours as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked lost in thought, her gaze flickering between your eyes, her hands trembling where they rested on your body.

Then, without warning, tears welled up in her olive eyes, the dam breaking as she blinked rapidly. “Oh my god,” she breathed. She buried her face against your chest, her sobs quiet but intense, as though she were overwhelmed by the weight of your confession.

You held her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she shook with the force of her emotions. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soothing, comforting, as she clung to you, her breath hitching with each sob.

“I—” Melissa gasped, her words caught in her throat as she lifted her head to look at you again, her face streaked with tears but glowing with something else—something radiant. “I love you, too. I love you so much, my beautiful angel.”

You smiled, the weight of everything—of the love, the joy, the uncertainty that had once been there—feeling lighter than air now. With her in your arms, everything finally made sense.

After a long deserved rest, the morning light of dawn crept into the bedroom, painting it in muted shades of gold and pink and casting a glow over the rumpled sheets and tangled limbs on the bed. Melissa stirred first, letting out a groan as her body reminded her of the intensity of the night before. Every muscle seemed to ache in the most delicious way, and she stretched out slowly, wincing slightly. Her hair was a wild mess, a lion’s mane of auburn curls sticking out in every direction, and her eyes were barely open as she sat up, scratching the back of her head.

She looked over at you, still fast asleep, your face serene and buried in the pillows. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she took in the sight of you—her beautiful girl, her girlfriend. The title still felt new and thrilling in her mind, making her chest tighten with warmth.

The redheaded woman swung her legs over the side of the bed, groaning softly again as she stood up, wrapping her silk robe around her sore body. She padded barefoot into the kitchen, craving the comfort of a cigarette and something sweet. Spotting a bowl of fresh strawberries on the counter, she plucked a few, popping one into her mouth as she slid the glass door open and stepped onto the villa’s terrace.

The cool air hit her freckled skin, waking her up slightly as she lit her cigarette with practiced ease. The first drag calmed her, and she exhaled a long stream of smoke, leaning against the railing. The view of the lake below was breathtaking, but her thoughts were far from the scenery.

She reached for her phone on the patio table, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for. With a quick tap, the call began ringing, and soon, the familiar, warm voice of Pearl came through the line.

“Missy? What’re you doin’ calling me this early? Did somethin’ happen?” The housekeeper’s voice carried its usual mix of care and mild irritation, like a mother fussing over a grown child.

“Well,” Melissa began, her voice still raspy from sleep, “you won’t believe what happened last night.” She sounded like a teenager sharing a secret, the awe and excitement in her tone undeniable.

“Oh, this I gotta hear. Lemme guess—your girl finally made you stop actin’ like a fool?”

The youngest laughed, taking another drag of her cigarette before blowing the smoke out slowly. “Yeah. She’s my girl now, officially. God, Pearl, she’s... she’s somethin’ else.” Her free hand gestured vaguely, as if trying to articulate something too big for words. “We stayed up talkin’, kissin’, touchin’—you know. And I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

A low hum of approval camethrough the phone. “About time, Mel. You’ve been floatin’ around, scared of commitment, for too long. This one’s different, huh?”

Melissa nodded, even though Pearl couldn’t see her. “Yeah. She’s different. She makes me feel... alive. Like I’ve been waitin’ for her my whole damn life.” She paused, her voice growing softer. “She called me her angel. Can you believe that? Me? An angel.”

“Well, you better treat her right, then. No runnin’, no hidin’. Just love her, Melissa.”

“I will,” the green eyed woman promised, popping another strawberry into her mouth and savoring the sweetness. “I’m all in, P. No more games.”

They chatted a little longer before Melissa ended the call, feeling lighter and more certain than ever. She flicked her cigarette into the ashtray, wiped her hands on her robe, and padded back inside, her bare feet making soft sounds against the tiled floor.

When she entered the bedroom, the sight of you still curled up in bed made her heart skip a beat. She slipped off her robe, letting it pool on the floor, and quietly locked the door behind her. The breeze was warm against her naked self as she slid back under the covers, her body naturally gravitating toward yours.

You stirred slightly, your face instinctively nuzzling against her stomach, hiding there like it was the safest place in the world. Your girlfriend chuckled softly, running her fingers through your hair as she sighed, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over her.

“You’re so precious to me, you know that?” she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed sleepily, your arms wrapping around her waist as you pulled her closer, and Melissa couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with a love that felt almost too big for her chest.

This was home. This was everything.

Next Chapter.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #sorry if this looks off #it's been a while since my soft smut era

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she-gave-me-three · 3 months ago

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Not everyone’s nature is good or golden And you can’t fight what’s in your nature

Paradise is Very Fragile - Lana Del Rey, Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass

#trop #saurondriel #galadriel #sauron #haladriel #my edits #tropedit

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fourthcrow · 21 days ago

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── JON SNOW x CHUBBY!READER HEADCANONS.

notes: this is my first time posting my work online, constructive criticism is very much appreciated! this man has me barking like a rabid dog in heat I ain't even gonna lie. not proofread oops. this is rushed because I am very sick this week.

warnings: fem!wife!reader, basic body descriptions, small mentions of insecurities, tooth-rotting fluff, written with later seasons jon in mind, sfw and nsfw. mdni. jon's a munch for his wife.

— SFW. (slightly suggestive)

I feel like jon wouldn't care what his lover looks like, as the saying goes, beauty is on the inside, but there are pluses to having a chubby wife. a soft, plush woman to call his own.

jon loves having a hand on you at all times, and not even in a sexual way. he simply needs that contact, feeling the way your softness contrasts against his own hard build. whether it's a hand on the small of your back as you walk alongside or a steady grip on your plump thigh beneath the table during feasts, jon wants needs to feel you. his favorite thing is probably holding your hand. it's so simple and innocent, and yet the feeling of your soft skin against his own is near maddening. his palms are rough and calloused from years of swordplay and hard work, while yours seem just as delicate as the petals of a rose.

the way your body fits into dresses is one of his favorite sights. the bodice hugs the flare of your hips and outlines the curves of your beautiful body in all the right ways. whenever you wear a gown with a particularly low neckline, it offers a tantalizing view of the swell of your breasts, a teasing sight of what he already knows lies beneath, but still feels his mouth run dry like some green boy. because it's you. you, his gorgeous, sweet, perfect little wife.

if jon could curl up in bed with you and bury his face in-between your chest, in the soft pudge of your stomach, or lie his head upon your lap, and stay there forever — he would do so in a heartbeat. it's one of his favorite places. it makes him feel safe, it makes him feel loved. especially when you delicately trace over his features or run your fingers through his hair.

another thing your husband adores is the way your rounded cheeks split into a grin each time you see him. it's so very endearing, watching the way your visage shifts, enlighten by his very presence alone.

very much gives grumpy x sunshine. jon, your quiet, brooding, king in the north who only ever shows his sweeter side to you, all vulnerable and caring in the warmth of your embrace. he would not hesitate to defend you whenever needed. while jon loves your body, all its softness, all its warmth, he knows that self-love is much harder for you. some lady from the court whispered under her breath about you? not happening. a drunken lord called you a horrid name between a snicker and another swig of ale? not on jon's watch. you're his wife, his love, and he will not stand for any disrespect. he only wishes you could see yourself through his own eyes.

and then there's the more practical side that comes with the extra bit of weight you carry. winters in the north are harsh and unforgiving. jon doesn't want some frail, delicate woman who he fears won't make it past the season. you come with a bit of extra hardiness, extra warmth.

another aspect of such topics is the prospect of carrying children — if that was something you both would wish for — again, jon doesn't want a fragile thing to worry about. he doesn't want you to break while you're carrying his child, and while he will still worry, he knows your body is practically made for bearing his little wolf pups.

— NSFW.

we already know that jon is canonically a munch. between your legs is surely better than whatever paradise comes after death. the way your fingers thread through his dark curls, tousling them from their bun, your pliant body squirming beneath him. oh, it's his own personal heaven. jon loves the way your plump thighs wrap around his head as he worships you with his tongue and lips. he could spend an eternity there, slurping up your nectar and suckling on your swollen clit. it has him groaning against your cunt and grinding against the featherbed.

jon loves the sight of your body sprawled out beneath him, your hair splayed across the pillows like a silken halo, framing you as his angel in the flesh. he loves to watch the way your flesh molds to his fingers as he grips your thighs or waist, the way the skin ripples with each one of his thrusts.

and your boobs. gods, your boobs. it doesn't matter what shape they are, or how big they are, he would kiss and suck and knead them until you were whining, crying out for him for more. I am a firm believer that jon snow is a boob guy.

his favorite thing when you are intimate is simply holding you as close as possible. with one strong arm tucked beneath your body, keeping you pressed against the hard planes of his chest as he drags his hips against yours. his other forearm is propped beside your head, keeping him up so he can watch the way your face scrunched in bliss, the way you look up at him like he's your whole world. his hand cradles your cheek, thumb reverently stroking your skin as he keeps you close and makes you cum.

#fourthcrow #sasha's fantasies #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow headcanons #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #asoiaf #jon snow smut

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sundaysconsort · 5 months ago

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Sunday theme?! 👀✨ohhhh

Can I request for sunday x ghost! Fem reader who is already with him since childhood, like she is Imaginary his friend, but she is still with him when he became astral express member.

She is someone who sunday trust about his secret and when he want to making a plan about the dream world, he search a solution to make fem reader can be alive again, he just want to thank her for be with him all these years . Ghost! Fem reader just feeling okay that she is not alive, she just want sunday to be happy thats all and when he became one of trailblazer member she is still there for him. Their feelings are mutual like romantic type.

Entry: " No Death May Do Us Part "

Pairing: HSR! Sunday | Reader

Information: You have been a figment of his imagination for as long as he can remember—a figure who comforts him during his darkest nights. Over time, he comes to realize that you are more than just an image created in his mind; you are something much greater. He is determined to bring you into his ideal realm. However, even he has limits, and you remain a beacon of light, guiding him on his journey. | 2.2k Word Count

Tags: Slow Burn, Tenderness, Mutual Pinning, Admiration, Hurt/Comfort, Self Doubt, Longing, Appreciation, Confession, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Ghost Reader.

Sunday was entangled in a haunting belief that he had lost you forever, cast away from the radiant paradise he had once envisioned—not solely for his people but for you as well. In the depths of his mind, that dream had imploded into fine, shimmering stardust, the weight of his perceived failure draping across him like a heavy, dark shroud. You, the spirited woman who had once curled up beside him as he poured his soul into the ivory keys of his childhood piano, had now morphed into a mere echo, flickering in the pits of his fading memory. Each frustrated note he struck reverberated with an ache, an attempt to breach the daunting chasm created by his tumultuous journey yet to come aboard the Astral Express.

Oh, how he longed to hear the familiar tones of your voice again, each syllable a soothing melody that played like a gentle breeze across his senses. Memories steeped, echoing in his mind like the sweet chime of distant bells, stirring feelings of warmth and joy that enveloped him like a cherished embrace on a cold winter's night. Those moments shared—conversations filled with love—wrapped around him, creating a cocoon of comfort that he yearned to revisit, reminding him of a connection that transcended time and distance.

“No death may do us part.'” This whimsical vow once uttered with joy between you and him as mere children, a promise made by the young boy version of himself and his 'imaginary friend', now holds a profound weight in his heart. The words echo through his thoughts, a haunting reminder of the bond you shared, intertwining your souls in a love that transcends even the boundaries of mortality.

He often found himself engulfed in a profound introspection, questioning the very essence of your existence. Were you merely a figment of his chaotic imagination, conjured by the loneliness that enveloped his heart, yearning for companionship and understanding? Or could you be something far more transcendent—a divine blessing from Xipe?

Nestled deep within the tangled labyrinth of his emotions, he battled with a bittersweet reality: you were a spirit trapped in a merciless limbo, a wandering ghost gliding through the lit streets of Penacony. The city, once a beacon of hope and joy in his mind, now felt like a deceptive paradise, a place where beauty was tinged with sorrow. Each corner he turned seemed haunted by echoes of you, intertwined with the melancholy of your fate, leaving him to ponder the fragile line between longing and despair.

Though you never overtly revealed your fragility, he felt it in the weariness of your fading existence, the way your spectral form flickered like a fragile candle struggling against the suffocating embrace of encroaching darkness. He clearly recalls the precious moments when you reached out, yearning to wipe away his tears with your trembling hands, only to find that the effort was always too monumental, an insurmountable challenge. You appeared sorrowful, yet fiercely determined, lingering in a half-life, steadfastly remaining by his side, your voice a whisper that trailed behind him, echoing encouragement and heartfelt concern throughout his childhood.

What fascinated him most was how you seemed to age gracefully alongside him, your essence maturing within the fabric of the realm you existed in. Sunday ached to rescue you from the twisted chains of solitude that ensnared you, to liberate you from the cruel fate that had snatched away your life. As vivid memories of youth and giggles surged back, he held them close to his heart, even as he wrestled with the heavy burdens of guilt and regret that had haunted him since embarking on the Astral Express. All he could have done better.

Sunday carries a deep-seated disdain for the person he once was, haunted by the echoes of his past mistakes and shortcomings. Yet, he knows you possess a remarkable heart, one that sees beyond his flaws. One that is capable of embracing the possibility of redemption. You chose to care for him despite his imperfections, recognizing the strength they reveal in him. He is no monster. Perhaps this clarity comes from the innocence of youth, a belief that genuine goodness can emerge from even the darkest struggles. You, too, saw the beauty in his dream—a vision of a better world that he strives to achieve. Every day, he tirelessly searches for a way to manifest that dream, no longer for the ideal of Penacony, but primarily for you and his dearest baby sister. The two most important elements within his life.

After enduring defeat and comprehending the repercussions of his actions—how his misguided intentions had led to the suffering of those he cherished—he decided to pursue his own redemption. He yearned for the chance to apologize to you, to communicate his deep gratitude for the tenacious companionship that had stitched together the fragile seams of his heart. Once, you were two innocent souls intertwined by fate, and the question that nagged at his mind was: where could you be now?

Days bled into nights as he roamed the streets of Penacony, driven to conceal his identity in a land he once governed with authority. His heart was heavy with the fear that you might still be waiting at the piano you once shared in a place he nostalgically dubbed home. The mere thought of you, patient and hopeful as you had been in your shared childhood, tugged insistently at his heartstrings. How could he bear the burden of knowing you possibly lingered there? Were you destined to remain trapped in this twilight world? Is this separation punishment for his failure to embrace harmony? Amid all the struggle, he sought order under the guidance of Gopher Wood—ultimately a grave miscalculation that ensnared those he loved in his misguided vision of paradise.

He desperately dreamed of creating a world where you could take tangible form.

Upon his return to the express, a twist of fate awaited him. The lobby lay enveloped in shadows, an eerie silence wrapping around him like a thick fog until a familiar, haunting note drifted through the air like a ghostly breeze. It flowed gently, beckoning him toward its source. As he approached the empty piano bench in the Express, he was astonished to see your faint image—a vision of focused concentration, your hands tremulously grazing the keys, having difficulty applying enough weight.

Relief washed over him like a gentle tide, melting away the icy grip of doubt that had tightened around his heart. As he looked at you, sitting across from him, warmth flooded his being. Your presence radiated a beauty that seemed untouched by the passage of time, each feature as striking as he remembered. It was as if, in his darkest moments, your image would materialize to guide him, no matter how far he roamed.

"'See? Just let it flow out of you, like this,' he heard you softly murmur to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of cherished memories. You sensed his presence nearby, and a wave of sentimentality washed over you. He had spoken those very words to you—each syllable a soothing balm that lingered in your mind. 'You can do it too. Come, give it a try.'"

As your gaze intertwined with his, the atmosphere transformed, charged with an electricity that sparked in the air. Everything around you faded into a soft haze, the vibrant colors and distant sounds melting away until it felt as though you were enveloped in a warm silence. In that suspended moment, it was just the two of you—intensely connected, as if the universe had conspired to freeze time and hold you in this perfect stillness, face to face once more.

Your focus returns to the piano, fingers dancing across the keys with grace. A rich tapestry of nostalgia wove itself around you, the melody resonating deeply within both your hearts. The sound fills the room, echoing off the walls, each chord a brushstroke, a masterpiece of emotion, painting the atmosphere with warmth and yearning.

"...this song is familiar to me; I believe I've encountered it once before," Sunday said, his eyes widening with a mix of nostalgia and wonder. It was as if he had been whisked away to a simpler time, a time when every sound carried a hint of magic. He looked at you, a faint smile playing on his lips, as the weight of time momentarily lifted, letting him relive those precious memories that felt so far away yet still lingered in his heart.

"A long time ago, you taught me how to play it," you replied, a gentle smile blooming on your lips, illuminating your ethereal form with a warmth that reached out to him, even from the veil separating your worlds. "I had time to practice while you were busy this passing year. I'll admit, I did miss you..."

His brow furrowed in thought, a hint of sadness shadowing his features. "I see… though I have little recollection of this melody in particular," he confessed, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a forgotten melody.

"I'll teach you," you assured him, your smile unwavering—a beacon of hope amidst the shadows. At that moment, the distance between your two worlds felt as fragile as glass, shimmering with the potential for connection. You reminisced with each note, your bodies almost touching; the warmth of his physical presence starkly contrasted with the coolness of your spectral form.

As if attuned to the unspoken doubts rolling through his mind, you felt compelled to address the silence that hung between you. With a gentle tone, you spoke again, instinctively grasping the complexity of his emotions and the weight of his unexpressed words.

"You are not obligated to carry the burden of my circumstances, Sunday. My deepest desire has always been for you to follow the path that resonates with your heart, rather than succumbing to the expectations of your family or the pressures of Penacony. More than anything, I want you to find true happiness in the choices you make and to embrace the life that fulfills your soul." It was a bittersweet blend of past and present, memory and longing, as the music continued to flow, bringing your hearts together once more.

You didn't crave an apology; that wasn’t what mattered to you. Instead, what you truly yearned for was simply his presence beside you, the warmth of companionship that brought comfort in moments of uncertainty. You understood that sometimes words were unnecessary; it was the connection that counted.

"And if the one I have been seeking, the bearer of my deepest desires, is the very person who can grant me that fulfillment, would she too share this feeling?" Amidst the enchanting melodies that surrounded him, Sunday made a solemn vow—to find the way to restore your essence so that you could finally embrace him as he had always longed to experience. "Would you, in turn, reciprocate my feelings?"

As you shift your position, a soft sigh escapes your lips, carrying with it a mix of longing and tranquility. Your faded hand gently rests atop his, fingers hovering close, as if trying to form a bridge between two worlds. The room is thick with unspoken emotions—a silence that feels charged, one where every heartbeat resonates with the weight of your connection. Though you can't touch him like another living soul might, a spark of hope flickers within you, illuminating the space between your hearts like a gentle flame in the dark.

"Of course," you reply, your voice steady, woven with warmth and an undercurrent of yearning. You sense his gaze shift towards you, eyes filled with an emotion that’s both tender and penetrating. He raises his free hand to brush the air between you as if he could touch the essence of your spirit.

Sunday smiles, a flicker of vulnerability dancing behind his charming exterior, his eyes momentarily betraying a depth of feeling that goes beyond mere charm. The soft glow of his halo seems to shimmer with ethereal light as if it were reflecting his genuine affection for the moment shared between them. “Then let’s not let this moment slip through our fingers,” he suggests, his voice steady but warm. “Can we promise to hold onto this? To each other?” His words hang in the air, inviting a sense of commitment and connection that feels both fragile and profound, urging them to embrace the bond forming in their hearts.

You take a deep breath, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest. The air is thick with anticipation, and a sense of the unknown hangs tantalizingly in the space between you. "More than anything," you say, your voice steady yet infused with emotion, "I want to explore this… whatever ‘this’ is, together." The words linger, heavy with possibility, as you meet his golden gaze, hoping they share your desire to uncover the mysteries that lie ahead.

His eyes soften, revealing a glimmer of paradise within their depths. The warmth of his gaze envelops you, making your heart flutter as if dancing to an unheard melody. "Together it is, then," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress that fills the space around them with an electric tenderness.

At that moment, the world fades away—the worries, the noise, all of it dissolves like mist in the morning sun. There's a palpable connection as if their souls are intertwined, each breath they take syncing in a rhythm that feels both exhilarating and comforting. He shifts closer next to you on the bench, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky, banishing shadows and illuminating everything in its path.

Every heartbeat reflects the promise of shared dreams and whispered secrets. The piano, once the center of attention, now stood silent and neglected. In that moment, you both felt an unspoken connection—two kindred spirits intertwined in a bond that transcended words.

A/N: I hope this was to your taste! Ended up finding inspiration from other series, including Anohana and Wuthering Waves for this. I'm not the most satisfied with this, but I'll leave you to be the judge of its quality. I hope you enjoyed it. <3

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