#Drift – Partners in Crime | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dotster001 · 8 months

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Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?

Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol

A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭

CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂

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No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.

So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…

"Fuck!"

No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.

"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt. They are intended to protect the rose!"

"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.

"Sorry?"

You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin.

"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"

He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.

"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Fighting crime!"

He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.

"Oy, Herbivore!"

Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."

You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.

"Oh, sorry."

You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.

He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.

"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."

You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.

This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…

"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.

What had you done?

You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.

Call it stupid curiosity.

"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.

"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."

He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.

"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."

"My hand hurts too much," you whined.

"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."

You looked at the fine print before grimacing.

"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"

Azul groaned a massaged his temples.

"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."

You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.

"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."

"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.

"I know," he lamented.

His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity.

But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.

You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.

You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.

"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."

"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.

"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.

"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.

He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.

Crash

Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.

"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.

He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.

"Don't touch another one."

You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.

Ten minutes later, he heard it.

Crash

He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.

"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out!

He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,

"Fuck!"

He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad.

"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.

"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.

Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.

"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.

You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.

"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."

"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.

"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.

"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.

You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"

Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.

Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.

It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."

Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.

It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.

"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."

"So shiny! Must touch!"

He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.

He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.

"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.

"I wasn't done," you muttered.

He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.

#3k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

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best friend yans partner making reader cry and yan realizes that it’s not their arms that reader runs to for comfort anymore🫢

You're happy for them.

In the beginning, it was just you and them. Growing up, they had always been a quiet kid. Clung to the hip of the first person who gave them the time of day. You didn't regret your decision then and you don't now. The years you had together were some of the best and you could only wish them happiness going forward. You were so proud of them for building the courage to broaden their friend group... You only wish they let new people in without shutting the old out.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cry when you found out you had to share them with someone else. You promised you wouldn't cry when they cancelled plans to focus on their new relationship. You promised you wouldn't cry when they finally replied to all your calls and texts just to put an end to your life long friendship.

You don't blame them for saying goodbye. It'd hurt less if they had done it in person, but you're adults now - friendships and silly promises are secondary when you've found true love. That's what they said this was in their final message to you- and so you believe them. Won't have much time for movie nights and hanging out like you used to while they're building a life with someone else, so you were bound to drift apart anyway. Everyone always said a bond like yours would stand the test of time, but clearly they were wrong. The best thing you can do for them and yourself is keep your chin high and swallow the tears. As much as it hurts, you won't cry. You won't cry.

"Ugh.. are you are stalker now? It's kind of pathetic for you to cling onto someone you never dated When will it get through your thick skull - they don't need you anymore."

You won't cry. It was pure coincidence that you ran into them again. It makes sense after all the time you've spent together the places you frequented would align. Your old best friend and their new lover had taken a trip to the mall on the day your new acquaintance had taken you to your old stomping grounds to cheer you up. Their partner was like a vulture - watching you from afar and awaiting the second you both were alone to strike. Honestly, it seemed like they didn't even notice you which only teared down another layer of your fragile defense. You want to go home, but you had to wait for your companion. Unlike others - you'd never leave anyone behind.

"They told me all about what it was like when you were younger. How you sucked up every minute of their time and made every thought they had all about you. You're honestly disgusting, you know that?"

Your throat tightens as you're backed into a metaphorical corner. That's not true. You tried to be there for them. They're the one that rejected everyone that wasn't you. Is that really how they viewed you? How they felt about you? Sharp intakes of air build up to the first exasperated wail that rips itself from you. It all crumbles from there. Tears pour from your tired eyes and spent heart. You try so hard to keep it in, wiping at your face and muffling your cries with quivering lips - but they only flood harder. Your aggressor attempts to flee from the scene of the crime as two pairs of footsteps quickly approach.

"Y/n?....."

"Y/n!...."

Sneakers squeak along the mall floor as one sprints to your side, going out of their way to jam their elbow in the ribs of your aggressor as they squeeze past them to get to you. The other stands stagnant as their lover nears - watching as you fall weightless into their arms. They draw back the foot pointed in your direction at first witness to your cries.

"Baby, what happened! Are you okay? This is why I told you to come into the store with me. Calm down, breathe. It's okay. I'm here."

Soft fingers brush away your tears. They dry quicker against someone else's skin. Your head falls to their chest, ears tuned to the gentle beat of their heart to calm the frantic beats in your own. Your companion takes their hand in yours, kissing the back of your knuckles as you follow their instruction and breathe in slowly.

"That's it.... I'm right here. I'll always be right here for you."

Their words are like a dagger to those unfortunate to listen. A blade dug deeper by your redden eyes and the small smile that forms as you gently squeeze your savior's hand. Once upon a time, it was their hand you held when at your worse - just as yours had pulled them out of the wreck their life was before they meet you. You used to be each other's shoulder to cry on. Safe houses from a world that never understood you or bothered to care. They long for that moment in time, but in that instance it all felt too perfect. If they hadn't let you go and found comfort elsewhere they'd only hurt you in the end - crush and buried beneath the weight of the ever-changing, conflicting tide of their feelings for you.

Laughter draws them back to the cruel reality they now face as punishment for their selfish decision.

"I'm fine now - I swear!"

"Nope! Since you won't tell me what's wrong, we ain't stopping until you're all smiles. We're going to hit up every store in this mall until it closes and you find something that completely takes your mind off whatever got you down. As your new best friend, it's my duty to make sure your heart is in good shape.... So I can steal it later on."

"You're such a dick...." Nudging their arm with your elbow, you giggle - then sigh. "Well, if you're paying, I guess I can't complain. Best be on our way then."

A passing glances comes not from you, but from the victor of this scenario. Your new best friend locks an arm around your waist, placing a kiss to your hair before mouthing a single word over your shoulder.

"mine."

A hand reaches out as you disappear into the crowd. It's falls not into the grasp of the one its heart truly desires, and instead into the iron grip of the person they chose as a cheap imitation.

"Can you believe those two?"

".... I'm going to fucking kill that bastard."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #tw yandere #yandere angst #yandere best friend

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writing-fanics · 2 months

Text

When somebody loved me

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

When somebody loved me

Everything was beautiful

You smiled as you flew through the skies with Lucifer, holding hands. Giggling and laughing, and you two flew through the skies. You loved spending time together soaring through the heavens together, dancing in the skies without a care in the world.

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

And when he was sad

I was there to dry his tears

You wiped away his tears and smiled at him, hopefully as he sniffled. He placed his hand over yours and leaned into your touch. He looked at you and smiled, he was lucky to have you by his side.

And when he was happy, so was I

You giggled, as he showed you his magic and his wondrous ideas your eyes lighting up in wonder. You wanted nothing more than his dreams to become a reality.

For you to be by his side to help him achieve his dreams. Because you loved him more than anything. He sat down beside you and placed your head on his shoulder, your hand over his closing your eyes as he gently rubbed the back for your hand.

When he loved me

Through the summer and the fall

You giggled as you jumped into a pile of leaves, like a little kid. Leaves falling around you as you jumped in the giant pile of leaves. Lucifer watched you with a smile, you were always so carefree and filled with joy.

We had each other, that was all

Just he and I together

He kissed you on the lips as the leaves fell around you. You giggled, as you kissed him back wrapping your arms around his neck.

Like it was meant to be

And when he was lonely

I was there to comfort him

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. As you comforted him running your fingers through his hair as you listened to him talk. He loved that about you how you’d listen to him. He was lucky to have you as a partner and he loved you for that.

And I knew that

He loved me

So the years went by

Lucifer seemed to start going to the garden of Eden, a lot more often you thought it was for the new creation that the angels were working on. You didn’t know but he seemed to drift away further and further, while you stayed there on that hill waiting for him after finishing work.

When he would come back he’d be tired, and barely wanna spend time with you leaving you feeling understandable yet sad.

I stayed the same

But he began to drift away

You sat there alone on the hill sadly, Lucifer was becoming busier and busier. Slowly drifting further and further away, spending less and less time with you.

Before you could even speak he swiftly left you there standing alone, your hands falling to your side.

I was left alone

Still, I waited for the day

When he'd say, "I will always love you"

Lonely and forgotten

It was your anniversary and he still hadn’t returned, you missed him. Yet you were hopeful waiting for him everyday as he spent time in the garden, doing who knows what.

Never thought he'd look my way

And he smiled at me and held me

You say there alone hoping that he'd come back to you, and you'd feel his arms around you. But he was busy doing whatever he was doing. You missed him, and as you played with the ring around your finger. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

You smiled as he hugged you and you closed your eyes, smiling at the familiar warmth. That you so greatly missed, you nuzzled your head into the crook of your neck. You didn’t want to let go thinking that he’d leave you again. You didn't know this hug was a hug goodbye.

Just like he used to do

Like he loved me

When he loved me

You stared at him with a blank stare, as he was beginning judge for his actions. His crimes against Heaven, for bringing evil into the world. Because of him wanting to give free will to humans.

When somebody loved me

Everything was beautiful

As you stood there, your mind in a complete state of shock, you found yourself unable to process everything that was happening around you.

The words he spoke seemed to echo in your ears, but they didn't quite register in your mind. All you could do was stare at him, your heart aching with the realization that he no longer loved you in the same way that he used to.

Every hour we spent together

Lives within my heart

The memories of the past flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but wish that you could go back in time and relive those beautiful moments when his love for you was pure and unadulterated.

Despite the pain, your heart continued to beat for him, and you knew deep down that you would always love him, no matter what.

As the weight of everything you were experiencing became too heavy to bear, your eyes began to fill with tears and a lump formed in your throat as you tried to swallow.

You found yourself sitting alone on top of a hill, your knees pulled up to your chest as you sobbed uncontrollably.

The tears streamed down your face, leaving behind a trail of sadness and despair. You looked around, but there was no one to comfort you, no one to dry your tears, and no one to share your pain. The world seemed bleak and hopeless, and you felt lost and alone, drowning in your emotions.

When he loved me

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #when somebody loved me #angst #x reader #fanfic #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader

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trashogram · 2 months

Text

He Chose You (P. 7)

Lucifer/Reader: You’ve been chosen to be the Mother of the Antichrist. Rated E.

Your sleep had become fitful with dreams that, while not full of violence, left you waking in a cold sweat most mornings. You couldn’t remember most of what happened aside from a parade of images and feelings of discomfort. Sometimes, downright fear.

The blonde woman was still the star, but you couldn’t remember a word she’d say. The sight of her frowning at two men replayed in your head between sleeping and waking. She frowned at you with dewy wide eyes.

The woman held her arms out to you: beseeching, sheltering, hurriedly hiding but you were able to escape the gaze of one of the men.

Fear had spirited you away from unconsciousness when the man’s brown eyes sparked into an unnatural gold. They heated with anger at the mere sight of you.

—

The only equivalent you could come up with for how you awoke was being jump-started like a car. It took a solid moment of gulping in air and eyeing your surroundings before you could calm the beat of your heart.

“Lucifer?”

It took too much energy to turn and look for him, but you saw that the sheets beside you were disturbed, but duck-less.

You were overly warm, hopelessly reaching out to run your hand down the opposite side of the bed despite what your eyes told you.

For a while there was nothing to do but lay in the silence of your darkened room. Eventually your hand drifted into your belly.

It had become a reflex to pet your own tummy, to feel the bump that had formed there, as small as it was.

—

You faced forward, looking directly at the screen of your TV without really seeing it. Beside you, Lucifer giggled at whatever was happening between Kermit and Gonzo onscreen.

His bare hand was latched onto yours, fingers entwined, claws digging into your skin just enough to hurt. Not a lot, just a little bit. Strangely, the discomfort kept you grounded and away from the outlandish yet very real fear that you’d float away without it.

‘Is it dissociating or disassociation?’

You’d gone long enough with it happening multiple times now but you couldn’t even remember what it was called.

You were pregnant.

Well, you’d been pregnant for about a month and a half. And your partner in crime had been excited. So excited he’d literally exclaimed ‘oh my golly’ at the news.

Then he’d had a panic attack, complete with big yet shallow gasps for air and arm flailing, hands flapping, short legs in knee-high boots pacing a hole into your carpet.

You were somewhat grateful for his outburst, if only because taking the steps to placate him was placating unto itself.

—

The memory made you smile weakly. A memory that seemed so long ago, even if it had technically happened only a few months prior.

Everything that had happened afterward had made it seem rosier than it should’ve been. Before things soured so thoroughly that you could barely get out of bed.

Now, you were exhausted day and night, plagued by not-quite-nightmares during your hibernation-like snoozes, and — when awake — eaten at by fears and doubts.

You’d never thought seriously about having children.

There was this permanent barrier to the very idea that lingered in the back of your mind. You don’t know when it formed, or if it was merely a protective mechanism of some kind (God knew you had plenty of those already). Nonetheless, you’d stuck to it, never straying… until now.

You weren’t the motherly type. And technically you weren’t going to be. As much as Lucifer mooned over you, whether for his own entertainment or because he was genuinely fond of your stupid sarcastic comments and bouts of literary trivia, you would not allow yourself to trust him completely. You had no compunctions about raising the Antichrist once you had fulfilled your end of the deal.

So you told yourself. Especially when you cycled through detachment and guilt about the creature growing in your womb. Especially when Lucifer was curled up with you, basking in your warmth and bringing you little trinkets and laughing with you at whatever was on TV. Especially when he dropped everything to lay down with you in your sickness, and did anything he could to make you smile, be it with magic tricks or stories from lifetimes ago.

Last night he’d held your hair as you threw up, courtesy of the raw beef you’d craved (thank you, you freaky little fetus). Then he entertained you by shape-shifting into cute animals until you’d cuddled up with his duck self and fallen asleep.

The little slope of your stomach quivered with the rest of your body. You felt the sudden urge to cry.

—

“Lucifer?”

You braced yourself against the wall to get out of your bedroom. Standing was enough to make you dizzy, skin growing clammy and perspiring while you struggled to move. You were winded after five steps through your rather small apartment.

Your curiosity was the only thing keeping you going after hearing a series of beeps from outside your door.

“Aw, shit. Shit, shit, shit! Hold on!” Lucifer called from a few feet away.

He was here, in your apartment, more often than not. As a matter of fact, you had the feeling that if you didn’t push him to return to his duties, Lucifer would’ve been with you 24/7.

Speaking of, he appeared from around the corner just as you buckled and slid against the wall.

The Devil sprang forward, arms out and ready to catch you. Had you been more yourself, you’d have laughed at the absurdity as most of your weight sagged against its surface and he’d more or less landed on top of you from the side.

“I’m so so sorry!” He cried, jerking away when you winced.

“Sorry.” He whispered loudly. “I got your tea and I was trying to make it without waking you but the darn thing wouldn’t stop beeping.”

“Cassie was here?” You let yourself sway to Lucifer’s side instead of the walls. He was practically carrying you into the living room.

Unnames illness aside, you found an additional slight against your existence that you still had to keep in contact with your weirdo neighbors. They were both their own flavors of bizarre, but Cassie in particular was extroverted and nosy.

She brought you tea from her kitchen garden —

“Just bits and bobs from my little spice garden, things I’ve been growing ‘round the house. Pretty basic stuff: you got your chamomile, mint, there’s rosemary in there too, some cinnamon, ya know.”

— and wanted to brew it for you while having chats at your kitchen table almost every day.

Even Lucifer was annoyed by her persistence.

“Here as in ‘at the door’ but not inside. She actually got it through that thick skull that I didn’t want you to be disturbed.” Lucifer said, equal parts irritated and triumphant.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

Your eyes closed to avoid the sudden onslaught of more tears when your companion tensed. He stopped short of the couch to relish in the contact. His wistful sigh made your heart throb painfully as you wondered for the umpteenth time how the fucking King of Hell could be so effortlessly sweet.

‘Just to make pulling out the rug from under you later a bigger betrayal.’

The intrusive thought brought more tears, from eyes screwed up as you wished it away.

“… can’t make tea as a duck.” Lucifer had carried on while gently lowering you on the cushions. “I did try though, to be fair.”

He had yet to notice your tears, but your laugh was wet. “I’m sorry I missed that.”

It was sudden when cold hands cupped your face and turned your gaze up. You were met with deeply worried crimson eyes.

The cold was so nice that you had to snuggle into that touch. “It’s ok.”

Lucifer’s maw opened and closed a few times, helplessly.

“Do—uh… do you want me to do that? I can try it again!” He jumped back, getting ready to shift in a puff of fireworks.

“No, come sit with me.” You held up a shaking hand, trying to ignore your own ashen skin.

The blond hesitated.

“Please, Lou.”

—

Lucifer melted at your request. He came to you immediately and took great care as he rearranged your frail body against his own.

He was grateful that he’d thrown on his velvet robe that morning twicefold now — once to avoid his elderly worshipper seeing his dick, and twice to be able to pull it to the side so that you could lay your forehead against his cold chest.

The King’s skin would warm up with time and human contact, but he knew that his natural icy exterior did wonders to help your over-warm skin.

Lucifer fought to not chuckle at the ticklish feeling of your hair against his neck. You laid there against him for a long time, breathing lightly and letting him hold you close. The silence was easy for once, not awkward or uncomfortable. Just one person relying on another for quiet solace.

When you finally spoke, it nearly scared him. “What’s it like? In Hell?”

“Wh-why’re you asking?” Lucifer tried to play it cool. “That’s not really a fun o-oo-r relaxing…!… topic.”

“Mmm,” Your head slowly lifted until he count easily count your individual eyelashes.

“I don’t know if you know this, but there’s a little guy in here.” You pointed between yourself and him, to the little slope of your stomach. “And they're gonna call Hell their home soon. It might be good to know what that’s like before I ship them off.”

“Oh!” Well, that was easier. “It’s uh, it’s red… and warm.” Lucifer wracked his brain. “Well, my Ring is. See, there are 7 Rings total, and technically I rule them all, but my brothers each kinda made their own homes out of them.”

“Mine though — mine is full of Sinners, which is what we call the humans that died and were condemned to it. They’re all kinda packed in there, heh. Like, uh, tiny fish. That reek.”

Your lips pursed. “But no one is burning in molten lava at all times or anything, right?”

“No-oo! Well, I mean it’s not impossible. But it’s not the norm. Nah, people go about their way like they do up here, but even more selfishly and violently.”

Lucifer smiled at your frowning face.

“It’s like on Earth? So people work, sleep, eat?”

“Yep!”

“They pay bills? Go to parties? Fuck?” Your brows were nearly to your hairline.

“Mmmm-hm!”

“And they do it for all of eternity? Forever?”

“Pretty much! In a nutshell…” Was his jolly reply. He squeezed you to him for extra measure.

It was your turn to look flummoxed by the picture he painted, the words he spoke that sounded both improbable and spot on for what Hell would be if it was real.

Well, not if.

At last, you sighed.

“I guess it couldn’t have been all that bad if… if you’ve been there for so long and you’re still so sweet.” Your words were barely audible, muttered into Lucifer’s chest when you gave up on making sense of anything.

But the Ruler of Hell had to stop the last-minute ejection of his own wings at your words.

***

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

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hyomaslut · 10 months

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──★ ˙🍒 ̟ !! SAY THAT YOU MISS ME. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ɢᴏɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇx

✿ ─ characters: bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, rin itoshi ✿ ─ cw: somewhat angst, nsfw, smut, gn!reader, afab!reader, no pronouns, aged-up!characters(21+), established relationships??, exes to lovers, kissing, groping, dirty talk, semi-public sex, lots of jealousy, alcohol use, posessiveness, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, toxic behaviors/dynamics, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread?? ✿ ─ notes: they are straight up drabbles. i wrote hyoma's first and i was like, omg this is way too long. fuck it, hope i can get the others close to this word count. and then they were longer. im so sorry i promise next time i wont be so long winded.

BACHIRA MEGURU is unsettled by the silence that lingers in your absence...

he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself. the heavy loneliness he feels in a bed far too big for just one person is almost enough to push him to call you, staring at your contact for at least an hour. you were best friends. partners in crime. a power couple. how could things be over? he misses your voice more than anything else, all the time in his day usually spent deep in conversation with you now feeling empty.

he could tell that he reached a real pathetic stage of heartbroken when he started listening to old voicemails from you at night, but couldn’t find it in himself to care as he smiles at your laugh and tears up at your i love you’s. that turns into scrolling through photos he has of you, and then that has his mind drifting to the hidden album he has dedicated to you, full of the numerous risqué shots you’ve sent him over the course of your relationship. meguru doesn’t dwell on the moral dilemma of keeping the pictures, they were his after all. either gifted to him or taken by him, so he feels he has some sort of right to them. when he scrolls to a particular video from his point of view of your pretty mouth wrapped around his tip, his hand almost immediately moves to palm his crotch. he tugs down his boxers to stroke himself to the scene of you deepthroating his cock, the sweet sound of your moans and sputters through his phone speaker making both his dick and his heart ache for you.

after some time spent desperately trying to create a cheap imitation of the pleasure you make him feel, bachira grows frustrated. it’s really unfair now that he thinks about it. how could you indulge him in all his deepest fantasies and give him the wildest hottest fucks of his life only to leave him high and dry in the end? finally giving up on cumming, covered in a thin layer of sweat, he opens his phone again in some lust fueled bravery, texting you hey can we talk?

in your apartment, you were dedicating your evening to trying not to think about all the ways you missed your ex, knowing that the first few weeks of a break up were the hardest. you stand up from the couch, breaking out of your thoughts and hoping to just distract yourself for the time being. picking up your cell was extremely counter productive in that regard, your heart jumping at a text from megs ‹𝟹. he wants to talk. seeing that the text was sent half an hour ago, you jump to reply yeah sure. when? you don’t even think before accepting, the chance to bask in his attention one more time is too tempting when missing him this much. the contact picture you set for him pops up, indicating an incoming call.

you take a breath in the tense silence, offering a somewhat unsure, “hello?” his end of the call comes to life all of a sudden, finally connecting through his current shoddy service. he sounds slightly out of breath and you hear a faint ding in the background. the grainy noises let you know that he probably wasn’t in the quiet privacy of his home as he usually would be at this time. “meguru? is now a bad time to talk?”

“no! now's a good time,” he reassures, “i’m in the elevator up to your place.”

“you’re what?”

there’s some more shuffling from him and quick footsteps that echo both from the call and the hallway outside your apartment. “open up.”

there’s apprehension floating somewhere in your mind, but the big part of you that was very much not over him moves your feet towards the door, unlocking it. as soon as the physical barrier between you and him is gone, there is a completely different tone that settles and you almost sense it before it happens when he pushes forward to crash his lips onto yours. he didn’t exactly have a plan showing up, but seeing you, there was only one thing his body wanted to do. your back collides with the wall of your entryway, one of his hands already on the back of your head to cushion the blow, his other arm coiled around your waist to press you flush against him. unaware of it, the two of you share the same thought. this is 1000 times better than being alone tonight.

“meguru.” you call out trying to gently push against his chest to create some room between you. trying to be the rational one and state the obvious facts. you broke up with him. he shouldn’t be here. it’ll just cause more heartache for the both of you. but tingles run up his back when you say his name that way, breathless as he steals all the air from you. fuels his need to hold onto you tighter and not let you go this time around. eventually you manage to get your hand over his mouth to stop him from kissing you before your resolve really breaks and you let this go too far. “megu we shouldn’t. this is hard enough as it is-”

he pries your fingers away, and just when you think he is going to say something, convince you, justify himself, he dips his head down to capture your lips again, gently sucking on the bottom one to draw out a gasp so he can shove his tongue in. greedy hands grab at your thighs, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he can shamelessly rut his hips against yours. he makes it hard to think straight, pulling away after a moment to stare into your eyes, giving you that signature wild look that causes your knees to go weak. “tell me you don’t want me.”

“huh?”

“look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want me.” he watches you expectantly, his impatience showing when he begins softly rocking into you. “cause we both know nobody else can make you cum like i can. let me make you feel good.”

you don’t find the strength to turn down his offer, not when you’re already panting at the affection he’s given you and soaking from the rhythmic press of his hard cock against you. bachira relishes the relief and arousal that floods through him when you wrap your arms around his neck to drag him into another sloppy kiss, and you feel his grin grow against your lips. the competitor in him recognizes a challenge, his heart pounding in perverse excitement. he has one chance to prove to you just how much you need him. lucky for you, that’s the kind of risk your ex gets off on.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is unreasonably bitter...

you and him are a perfect match, and the thought of you ever replacing him makes him sick. the egoist in him can’t stand the idea of someone stealing his role in your life. someone else taking you out, having your attention, putting their hands on you. deep down some rational part of him knows that he doesn’t stake any claim over you anymore, but the sinking pit in his stomach does nothing to alleviate the gut instinct that you’re his.

it eats at him. chigiri feels childish stalking your social media or casually asking mutual friends about you. he doesn’t want to seem affected, but he just can’t help but give into his curiosity. this same ‘curiosity’ is what leads him to hanging out in the bars he knows you frequent, either with friends or without. he hardly admits to himself that he’s hoping to run into you, but when it actually does happen, hyoma doesn’t hesitate to approach. he’s unsure if it’s the irresistible pull of being within arms reach of you again, or the selfish intuition to make his move on you before anyone else has the chance.

it seems innocent enough. he’s as charismatic and lighthearted as ever, offering to catch up, buy you a drink or two. chemistry you’ve always shared slowly surfaces through conversation. there was no denying that he had his charms, ones that hit all your soft spots just like the first time he won you over. so when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you on your way out of the bathroom, and wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall over from tipsy imbalance, you barely even question it. being in his embrace is familiar and there is a glance shared between you with a certain spark to it that it’s only natural he leans down to kiss you. hyoma is nothing if not an opportunist, smoothly steering you back into the small bar bathroom, his lips and tongue never leaving you.

he’s panting into your mouth between hungry kisses, hands already tugging at your clothing. his teeth find your neck, sucking and biting warm bruises in his wake, eager to mark every inch of skin he can latch onto. before you get the chance to playfully tease him about crawling back to you, your body is twisted around and bent forward over the sink. your eyes dart to the mirror in front of you, meeting his smug grin as he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs.

hyoma reaches his hand around to dip between your folds, deft fingers rubbing languid circles into your clit the way he knows you like. if it werent for the cocktails you would be embarrassed by the way you immediately melt into his touch, whimpers readily escaping you. “you’re already whining like that and i’ve barely even touched you, this pussy must’ve really missed me, huh?”

pleasure shoots up your core, arching your back at the feeling, pressing your ass into the bulge straining against his jeans. a moan bubbles up in his throat, but he’s quick to close his mouth, muffling the sound to a soft grunt, not willing to indulge you in the reactions you always seek to draw out of him. his hips push forward to grind into yours, the hard outline of his cock enough to remind you of what more you could be having instead of this PG13 dry humping session. you try to catch his gaze in the mirror, but it never leaves the place where you connect, giving you only soft thrusts while his fingers are unrelenting against your clit. “hyoma.” you manage to get out between heavy breaths. pink eyes finally travel up to meet yours. “please give it to me.”

and on a normal day, your ex-boyfriend would’ve dragged out the foreplay and teased you until you’re near tears and begging him for more, but something about the way you ask feels like a confession. that you wanted him just as desperately as he had been craving you. it sparks a fire up chigiri’s spine, wasting no time shoving the tight denim down to release himself. soon enough the tip of his pretty dick is squished against your entrance. his jaw is clenched from the restraint it takes not to immediately bury himself balls deep, grabbing your waist to keep steady.

any doubts that he had about still pining after you are gone, because the first tight clench of your cunt around his tip confirms what he’s always wholeheartedly believed. you were fucking made for him.

“god fuck,” he mutters breathily, biting down onto his bottom lip as he watches your hole swallow his entire length. his hips wind back, not getting far before the grip your walls have on him forces him to slowly sink back in. “anyone else fill you up this good, angel? get you this wet?” he asks, one of his hands grabbing hold of your hair to make you properly face him in the reflection again, wearing a cocky smirk that makes your stomach do flips.

a pout forms on your lips at his leisurely thrusts, far from enough to satisfy you, especially when you’ve seen firsthand the speed and effort he is depriving you of. “i don’t know, im getting a bit bored here princess,” you mock, despite the way you’re barely able to contain your noises as is.

without warning his pace becomes the staple unrelenting and overwhelming one you fantasize about while futilely trying to get off on your own. hyoma lets go of your hair in favor of clamping down over your mouth, loud moans already beginning to spill out around his fingers. the sight of the typically cool-headed prince losing his nonchalance, fucking you with pure ego and a savage glimmer in his eyes isn’t something you’ll easily forget. “this what you wanted? only satisfied when i fuck you stupid, right?"

ITOSHI RIN is not a fan of losing you, but loves getting you back...

rin doesn’t fall in love easily. he doesn’t know exactly how you managed it, but you barged into his life unannounced and dragged love out of him with your unrelenting company and killer smile. and rin was no willing victim either, figuratively kicking and screaming the whole way with his many cold moments and guarded emotions. in the end you won, with him wrapped helplessly around your finger. while rin would prefer to deny you any power over him, there’s a fire that burns in his chest for you that demands he give you everything he has. and he does.

but his love proves to be too much and not enough. too much in the ways of his possessive tendencies and clinginess and toxic defensiveness. and not enough in the way that it doesn’t keep you around. not that he blames you for it, although he does get the occasional bitter thought that you should’ve known to leave him alone from the start. deep down he knows he doesn’t really mean it, preferring even this pitiful longing you leave him with to the dark cloud that was his life before you. and it’s what he fears of returning to if you ever manage to fully pull away from him one day.

the first time you break up, rin admittedly doesn’t deal with it well. after endless calls and texts and showing up at your place with flowers and vulnerability, you take him back, only to return to the same arguments when his jealousy issues get out of hand. he wished he could say the second or third time went differently. fourth time around, however, rin gains some semblance of dignity and decides to keep his distance. maybe it was time to give moving on the good old college try. what other option did he have? as in love with you as he was, he couldn’t force you to stay and wasn’t well equipped to do the soul searching necessary to rid himself of all the behaviors that bothered you. maybe this was a lesson he needed to grow into the type of guy you could see yourself with. at least he intended to take that route, until you showed up at his house a few days later begging for him to forgive you for ever thinking you could live without him. he doesn’t even feel embarrassment over how easily he caves. it can’t be his fault when that night you swore you’d always belong to him while screaming his name. that same night he resolved that no matter what happened, you were it for him, and until you told him without a shadow of a doubt that you no longer loved him, he would return to you every time.

it started this viscous cycle of an on and off again relationship, fueled by passion and possession from both parties. one that rin never planned on ending as long as it was the only way he got to call you his, feeling a deep sense of comfort in the fact that you were weak for him too. that’s why he’s unsurprised hearing a knock on his door at 11PM. a new record considering it only been a day since the huge fight that caused your latest break up, not that rin was keeping count.

he has to stop himself from running to the door, because if he was honest he was thinking of grabbing his keys and heading to you minutes earlier. it doesn’t take more than a, “i’m so sorry baby,” to have him scooping you up into his arms on instinct. the familiar security of your legs wrapped around his hips, hands grabbing at your ass as he carries you to his bed, makes up for the self-loathing mess he becomes in the aftermath of every separation.

none of that other stuff matters when he gets to have you under him like this, already whining in anticipation as he peels away your bottom layers. rin can’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss to your clit before looking up at you from between your legs. a finger ghosts along your slit causing you to squirm and lean up towards the touch before one of his strong hands pushes you firmly to the bed, resting just under your navel. fortunately for you, rin is terrible at denying you the things he knows you want. especially when he’s practically drooling for you, letting the excess spit dribble out of his mouth and onto your cunt. you feel him lick long stripes from your entrance to your clit before wrapping his lips around it.

rin eats you as if it were his first meal in days. being apart from you always seemed a whole lot longer when he has to fear if you really mean it this time when you say you wanna stop seeing him. so he allows himself to be greedy, laves at your slick ravenously with a loud groan and humping his hips against the mattress to relieve his cock that’s already leaking in his boxers. your hands bury themselves in his hair, throwing your head back in pleasure as he bites down into your thigh, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “god you taste so good. you’re fucking criminal for trying to keep this perfect pussy from me.”

his free hand wanders to your core, two fingers easily slipping inside from a mix of your juices and his drool, curling to just the right spot. he sucks your clit into his mouth, your sweet moans fill the air and he has to stop his thrusts to keep himself from cumming in his pants at the sound, pulling away from you with a lewd pop. “‘ts mine,” he grunts out, “you’re fucking mine, and no one can make you feel like this but me. say it.”

“only you rin! ‘m yours!” you choke out, bucking against the pressure he puts on your stomach. satisfied with your response, he dives back in, fingers pumping into you with steady rhythm and using his tongue to lap up everything that leaks out. his intense gaze stays trained on yours with a newfound determination to make you feel so good, you’re ruined for anyone else but him.

“all mine.”

◑.◑ its honestly tempting to write a whole fic for rin…

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hypewinter · 6 months

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Before the batfamily, before the robins, when Dick Grayson was still innocently swinging from the ropes with his parents and Batman had just started his crusade against criminals, there was another protector of Gotham. No one knew who he was. No one had even so much as caught a glimpse of him, still they knew he existed. They knew because petty thieves would find themselves tied up in front of the police station before they could put out their knives. They knew because abusive partners would wake up from horrid nightmares and turn themselves in. They knew because the small crimes Batman deemed too beneath him to handle were handled anyway.

No one ever saw the secret protector of Gotham and therefore no one was ever able to thank him personally but that didn't deter citizens who wanted to show their support. Many took to leaving things out for him. Small snacks, thank you cards, and even flowers were tucked away in window sills and on porches and at the very places people were saved. The offering always disappeared over time which one could technically claim was the fault of some stupid kid or someone who didn't know any better. But if there was the slightest chance that these thank you offerings were being accepted by their protector, then it was worth it.

Over time, the silent protector of Gotham, their own little phantom, seemed to disappear as more members of the Batfamily showed up. No one could pinpoint how exactly they knew, they just did. They could somehow feel his very presence recede as his territory was taken over by a bat. The people of Gotham couldn't help but mourn the loss of their protector. Despite that they hoped that wherever he was, even if he was still drifting around the city, even if he were halfway around the world, that he knew just how eternally grateful they would forever be to him.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

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janitorhutcherson · 6 months

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hii! i’ve done nothing but write and get ready for the holidays this weekend lol. this is from your perspective, there’s no dialogue!! it’s probably pretty short too. anyways!!! enjoy :p

word count: unknown

warnings: none!! pure romantic fluff

summary: you and mike are doing absolutely nothing and you’re swimming in your own thoughts about how angelic he is

Infatuated. That’s what you were with Michael Schmidt. There was no doubt about that and no doubt he felt the same way. Since he’d dropped Abby off at school one morning, accidentally running into you as a hurriedly attempted to escape the school’s double doors before a swarm of mothers entered to drop their own children off, you had been practically inseparable. You’d been dropping your own little sister off for your parents, them taking advantage your day off. It was after a terse but genuine apology and an awkward acceptance with a small smile that the two of you exchanged a brief amount of conversation, coming to the conclusion that your little sister was one of the only people that Abby would actually talk to in her classroom.

With that being said, you exchanged numbers to set up a ‘playdate’ (although Mike knew if things went well, he’d use it for much more than that) and the rest was history. Now you were sat on his couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders tenderly, the living room filled with darkness except for the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. Some shitty late night rerun of a reality TV show was playing, but neither of you were exactly paying attention. Mike was on the brink of exhaustion, his eyes starting to droop as he zoned out, not processing a word coming from the sound system. You were far too lost in your thoughts to even realize what was going on.

Your eyes lingered up from where they’d stayed staring at the TV with an empty look, now glancing up at his side profile. The illumination from the TV highlighted his stubble that had been growing out for weeks, something close to a full beard starting to appear, patchy spots here and there. His eyes were sunken in both from exhaustion and from the way his features typically sit. His nose was slightly crooked, something you’d loved and obsessed over since you’d first met. He never understood your love for it, but you felt as if it made him like a Grecian statue. His bushy eyebrows framed his face almost perfectly, his lips also full and a reddish pink color. He was perfect in every way.

After you’d come back to reality to an extent, you were now focused on his warm hand that was placed on your bare shoulder. His hands were warm but calloused and rough. The feeling was comforting, electric waves of warmth pulsing through your body from something so simple. You leaned your head against his shoulder, fluttering your own eyes closed as your breathing began to steady into the same pace as his. This. This was heaven. Pure bliss as every thought ceased to exist in your brain unless it was about him. Mike was all that filled your head. Your Mikey, the one who helped father Abby, the best big brother there could’ve. Mike, who was the most loving boyfriend you could possible ask for, constantly checking in on you, giving you affection, running you baths and holding you when you cried. Mike, your lover, best friend, and partner in crime all in one. He was your everything. You couldn’t want for forever with him, to get married, to have more kids, and to grow old together

Slowly, your mind began to slip away as you fell asleep. The last thing you remembered thinking was feeling the warmth of a pair of lips on your forehead. A blanket was sleepily pulled over your bodies as you were both readjusted, Mike laying down on the couch and you on top of him, his arms wrapped around you. Yes, forever could wait. For now, you were curled up in your lover’s arms, pleased as punch as you drifted off into the most peaceful sleep of your life.

#mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson

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angelsnkisses · 10 months

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Hi, can you write a one shot inspired to this tiktok? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLP3jkQy/

Apologies ♡ - Spencer Reid x fem!reader

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

A/N: hello, anon! thanks for the request, i actually really liked writing this :). it's pretty long so enjoyy <3!

Summary: You get into a fight with Spencer, and he decides to make it up to you. <3

warnings: slight angst, drinking/intoxication, dom!spencer, sub!fem!reader, brief choking, fingering.

You and Spencer had lived together for a few weeks now, and it was bliss so far. The only downside was how often he was gone, constantly working with his team to solve crimes and catch what he calls 'unsubs,' which was all pretty new to you. None of your other partners had ever had such a serious job, but then again, all your exes were total losers.

You loved Spencer, he was so good to you. You had been together for about a year, and he finally convinced you to move into his place with him. He said he felt better knowing you were safe with him. It was honestly cute. Despite all that, you often missed him. He was always out of state, or at the office working on god knows what.

That's how you ended up alone on a Friday night, half a bottle of wine in your belly and the music up loud. You were dancing around carelessly, trying to ignore your thoughts. Spencer had to work late, again. You felt more alone than you cared to admit to him, but you decided it didn't matter much.

Moving around helped, something to get your blood pumping for some kind of excitement, hence the solo dance party. You weren't drunk, but you definitely weren't sober. Your blood felt warm, making you all fuzzy inside.

You were so caught up in your dancing that you didn't even notice how late it was. When you caught a glimpse of the clock, you slowed to a stop. It was one in the morning, and of course, Spencer wasn't home. You groaned, turning off the music.

Maybe it was because you were a little tipsy, but you were pissed. Before you knew it your phone was in your hand, ringing and ringing as you pressed it to your ear.

"Hello?" Spencer picked up, almost immediately.

You paused, not really sure what you wanted to say. You were mad, you wanted to say something.. you probably should of thought about what exactly that was before calling.

"Y/N? Hello? Are you okay?" his voice came through again, and you remembered you had to actually speak.

"You're late," you stated, leaning against the dining room table.

"Yeah, we're working on a pretty big case right now," he replied.

" Yes, I know that, because you've been working late all month, Spencer. You come home when I'm already asleep and then leave before I wake up. I miss you," you grumble, hearing a heavy sigh on the other end. You felt a small pang in your chest at the sound. It wasn't like you to be so confrontational, and you understood he was busy.. you were just too heated to shut yourself up now.

"I know, baby. I'm just busy, it's not personal," he assured you apologetically.

"It's not personal? That doesn't matter, Spencer. What matters is I am lonely, and horny. That doesn't bother you?" you stumble over your words a little, a lot more blunt than normal. Maybe you were drunk.

There was a long, agonizing pause before his voice came through the speaker once more.

"Y/N, have you been drinking?"

You don't say anything, just gritting your teeth and releasing a frustrated groan before hanging up and slamming your phone down on the table. What an asshole, you open up and all he's curious about is your state of sobriety? Fuck that.

You were too angry when you drank, you needed to sleep it off. You picked your phone back up, ignoring Spencer's texts and walking towards your room. You flopped onto the bed, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

"Y/N? Baby, wake up," a voice broke your sleep, familiar and quiet. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling a hand rubbing up and down your back. You lifted yourself up a little, looking up at whoever was disturbing your rest.

"Oh, it's you.." you mumbled, laying back down and turning away from him. You heard him sigh, the bed dipping behind you as he sat on the edge. He leaned over, laying a hand on your arm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, guilt leaking into his tone. You felt your stomach turn, feeling like a total bitch now that you were pretty much sobered up. Drunk you was such a menace, you were embarrassed. Still, he was never home. You were somewhat in the right.

"It's fine, Spence," you said shortly, your voice flat. He gently moved your hair from your neck, moving his kisses up.

"No, it's not," he disagreed against your skin, "You're right, you shouldn't have to feel so lonely all the time, I'm sorry."

You felt a smile twitch at your lips when he apologized, unable to stay mad. He sounded so genuine.

"Let me make it up to you.." he suddenly said, a seductive hint in his voice as he moved his hand down. You shuddered slightly, instinctively moving up into his hand. You almost turned him down, not wanting him to feel like he had to.. but fuck, you needed him. It had been too long.

"Okay," you whispered, thankful you were facing away so he couldn't see your cheeks were flushed and red at his words. You felt him smile against your skin, beginning to pull you closer.

He moved quickly, sitting up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He opened his arms for you, watching you move closer. You were about to straddle him, when he interrupted you.

"Ah, not like that, sweetheart. Face away from me," he corrected. You raised a brow, but still did it, pressing your back to his chest as you sat between his legs. You felt more exposed feeling his fully clothed body against yours, only wearing underwear and one of his sleep shirts.

"So sexy.." he muttered against your neck, his hands slipping under the shirt as he nipped at your skin. You sighed heavily, your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back on his shoulder.

"Good girl, just relax.. I'm gonna take care of you," he promised, sending a shiver up your spine. You felt his wandering hands moved down to your legs, one of them grabbing hold of a thigh. He forced your legs open, his free hand moving between them to start touching you.

He gently pressed the pad of his index finger to your clothed clit, earning a sharp gasp from you. He rubbed over you halfheartedly, the tiny bit of pleasure setting your nerves on fire.

"Fuck, please don't tease me," you whimpered, hearing him chuckle darkly in your ear. He shook his head, long hair tickling your cheek.

"You're not in charge here, baby. Be patient," he cooed, making you whine and squirm. He just tutted. "So needy."

He eventually slipped his hand into your underwear, groaning quietly when he felt how wet you were. You could feel his hardened bulge against your back, your heart pounding as he worked. He shimmied your underwear down, and you helped him pull them off your legs eagerly before leaning back into him.

You shuddered when you felt a finger go back down there, circling your clit slowly. Even that was enough to make you moan softly, so touched deprived and desperate. He relished in your noises, the sound music to his ears. The hand on your thigh grew tighter when you squirmed around, looking down at what he was doing.

You winced when his finger moved down, his fingertip dipping inside before disappearing, his action repeating a few times. You breathed a shaky whine again, sounding more desperate by the second.

He finally eased his whole middle finger in, your head falling back as you gripped onto his upper arm. Sure, it was just his finger, but it had been at least two weeks now, and you were all kinds of sensitive. He began pumping it in and out of you at a leisurely pace, ignoring your inability to handle such a simple action.

"W-wait, wait stop," you whimpered when he sped up, already overwhelmed with the feeling. He hummed against your neck, not halting his movements. Instead, he curled his finger up, earning a pleasured cry from you. You trembled, warm delight filling your veins as your body convinced you to adapt. The pleasure wasn't too much anymore, you wanted more of it.

"Hm? You want me to stop?" he repeated, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh. You breathed a heavy sigh, shaking your head timidly, and he chuckled at your indecisiveness.

He kissed your cheek sweetly, pulling his middle finger out and rubbing over your clit again. "Good girl, you're being so sweet for me," he praised, making your face heat up and your eyes flutter shut. You were never all that subby, but holy shit, he was doing a number on you.

"Think you can take another finger?" he asked, the lewd question slipping from his lips as if it was nothing. You whined, turning your head to hide your face in his neck, embarrassed. He shook his head, the hand on your thigh snaking up to your throat as he forced you to look down at his hand.

"Answer me, do you?" he repeated, more stern now. You gasped softly, finally nodding. "Yes! Yes, please just do it," you begged, much to his enjoyment. He squeezed your throat just barely, his index finger joining his middle as he pushed back into you.

The stretch made you wriggle in his grasp a bit, the dull, sharp sting less than comfortable for you. He was trying to go slow for you, but he was eager to see you fall apart under his touch. He started pumping his fingers at a snails pace, paying close attention to your reactions as he did.

As soon as he could see you were ready, he sped up, feeling proud of himself when you moaned loudly at the sensation. Pleasure was coursing through your body, your legs instinctively closing when it became too much. He removed his hand from your neck, clearly unable to release your thigh for even a little bit.

"Stay still. That's your last warning," he hissed in your ear, making a tremble run through you. You whimpered, clutching his arm for dear life and trying to do as he said.

His hold on your thigh wasn't as harsh as before, but it wasn't gentle, either. You breathed heavily, a burning tightness building up in your abdomen. You dug your fingers into his covered bicep, fighting to keep your legs open. "Fuck, Spencer," you moaned warningly, trying to signal you were close. He got the memo, his thumb pressing to your clit and circling firmly with his pumps.

That was enough to push you over the edge, a strangled cry leaving your lips as you felt your orgasm washing over you. You couldn't stop your legs from closing around his hand, stopping him from overstimulating you as you rode out your high.

Then you remembered his warning.

"Wait, wait I'm sorry-" you started to plead, heart pounding. Before you could say more, he grabbed you roughly, flipping you around and pinning you to the bes. He crawled over you, leaning down to soeak darkly in your ear.

"You should not have done that.."

A/N: well this was an adventure, i've never written anything based of a tiktok before, but i loved the challenge :). thank you to whoever requested, hope you enjoyed <3!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #mdni #angelsnkisses #criminal minds #bau team

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woso-lover234 · 1 month

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Ausenal + Leah Williamson x (platonic) reader- jacket

“Caity no. I'm not cold" you whined as Caitlin held up your jacket infront of you

"you are but you just can't feel it because of the adrenaline running trhough your body and the fact that you played 105 minutes of soccer" she said as you shook your head

"no I promise I'm not!" You exclaimed as this time she shook her head aswell as sending you a disapproving look

"Y/n you grew up in Darwin. You struggle with a normal Australian winter what makes you think your gonna be fine in London?" She asked and I shrugged

"Exactly now cmon put your jacket on before you freeze" she said holding it out to you again as you shook your head stubbornly and she sighed

"I wanna play with Kyra" you stated as you crossed your arms over your chest

"You can once you put your jacket on, cmon the quicker you do this the quicker you can go annoy Kyra" she stated and you gasped and held your hand to your heart in offense

"I'm not annoying!" You exclaimed and she shrugged

"Many people would disagree with that statement" she said and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms again

"If this is your way of making me put on my jacket it's not working" you said and turned your head away from her

"You sure coz your looking a bit cold" Caitlin said

"how?" You threw your arms up before slapping them at your legs

"Well you had your arms crossed, that's what people do when they're cold" she explained and you shook your head

"they also do it when they're angry!" you exclaimed about to cross your arms but thinking better of it and keeping them at your sides "better?" You asked and sighed when she shook her head. you then moved your arms out to the sides and just when you did that you felt a jacket being slipped onto your body you were slightly confused though since Caitlin still held your jacket. Caitlin then stepped forward and zipped it up following that by tapping your shoulders

"Better" she said with a smile while you had a pout as she kissed your forehead and spun you by your shoulders to see a smirking Katie as you scoffed

"Your meant to be on my side" you exclaimed as Caitlin handed Katie your jacket as you had hers

"I usually would but I can't let my partner in crime freeze to death can I? I'd be a crap partner then" she said and you sighed again and let out a tiny I guess.

You wet on Katie's back getting carried around the pitch and waving to fans, sometimes stopping to sign things or take photos with fans. You hated to admit it but your legs were starting to get really cold since they weren't wrapped up in your jacket like the rest of your body and the temperature difference made it worse .

"my legs are cold" you complained and you could see Caitlin smirk and share a look with Katie "and before you say anything putting on my jacket earlier wouldn't of helped!" You added quickly before the two could say anything as Caitlin held her hands up in defense. You walked for a little bit longer before it became too much and you slipped off Katie's back onto the grass, sat down with your knees to your chest and Katie's big puffer pulled over your legs as your cheek laid on your right knee. Caitlin and Katie stopped walking and came over to check on you but when they realised you were content to just sit there and warm up a bit they left you with a kiss on the forehead from each of them, a ruffle of your hair and a 'call out to us if you need us' before you were alone again were you quickly drifted off to sleep even with the crowd screaming to try get the attention of their favourite players.

When the rest of the team had started making their way to the changing rooms and Caitlin, Katie, Steph, Kyra, Alessia and Leah noticed you still hadn't moved from your spot Leah waved the others off and decided to go get you herself. She slotted herself on your right side and was surprised to see you asleep, in the middle of the pitch with the fans screaming but then she remembered it was you; the girl who could sleep anywhere. She started gently rubbing your arms and back to gently wake you up from your slumber and when she noticed you waking up more she started caressing your cheeks and attempting to warm them up slightly with her hands.

"Hey kiddo, your awake" she said when she saw your eyes open and your hands lift to wipe the sleep from them

"Hey Le" you said as you leant into her which she welcomed and guided your head to her shoulder while you woke up properly

"I heard about the jacket shenanigans" she said and you sighed

"I was cold" you said and Leah looked at you to continue "when cait first asked" you continued and Leah seemed to grasp what you were trying to tell her now

"Why didn't you want it?" She asked gently while rubbing your left arm while you looked towards the ground and were you could see your boots poking out from under your jacket

"I did but for some reason, in my head, I didn't want to do what she said" you shook your head "or i didn't want her to be right, for some reason my brain made me think she was trying to prove a point by making me put it on because she knew I was cold or something" you shook your head again "but my heart knew she was just doing what was best for me because she loves me but my brain overpowered my heart so I just didn't want it" you explained and Leah nodded in understanding

"You're right she was just doing what she knew she needed to do to keep you safe and healthy and she would do that bend if you're being stubborn because she loves you. It's fine to feel like that, you know, sometimes our brain is tired and it isn't thinking logically and it makes haste decisions like that and that's fine" she placed her hand on your knee as you finally looked up at her

"So they'll still want me?" You asked with teary eyes since you were a little bit scared of the answer as you were still tired and everything seemed more exaggerated then normal

"Are you kidding they would never get rid of you! Kyra maybe. But not you!" She joked as you let out a laugh and hugged her

"Thanks Le, love you" you said into her jacket as she rubbed your hooded head

"That's okay, love you too" she said pulling away, kissing your forehead before standing up and pulling you up "cmon we gotta go inside" she said but you stayed rooted in place

"my legs are still cold Le" you whined while looking up at her like a pouting child. It was moments like these that Leah remembered that you were still only going. she just laughed before unzipping her jacket and pulling you into another hug before she zipped her jacket back up

"That better?" She asked and you nodded against her

"Much better" you said dozing off to sleep against her

"hey no sleeping this is cuddle time" she joked but could tell that she was already loosing you so she hoisted you into her arms which seemed to wake you up a bit more

"le your knee" you said looking at her with worry and trying to get out of her arms

"my knees fine" she said but you shook your head "I promise" she said looking you in the eyes as you finally nodded and leaned you head against her shoulder and into her neck where she could feel little puffs of air hitting her skin from your breathing.

When she made it back to the locker room everyone cooed at you as you lay sleeping in Leah's arms and took lots of photos and videos of you with or sweet captions. Leah made a mental note to bring up the conversation the two of you had with Caitlin, Katie and Steph but for now she was fine with the attention she was gaining due to you. Little to you and Leah your interaction on the pitch had already been posted on multiple social media platforms and fans were awwing over how gentle and kind Leah had been and how genuine your relationship was with the older girls in the team and the stony faced captain.

#leah williamson #matildas #woso imagine #woso #caitlin foord #steph catley #kyra cooney cross #woso fanfics #katie mccabe #arsenal #arsenal wfc #alessia russo

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 5 months

Text

Under the Weather

Synopsis: You’re sick. George’s sick. Someone else is probably going to get sick. It’s an interesting last race in Abu Dhabi

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: this fic is pretty vague so i’m not going to give the reader a team or teammate, we just know that she’s a driver on the grid because that’s all we really need to know

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

. and even though you’re around hundreds of people every race weekend, las vegas felt more packed than a normal race would be

. and you were seated next to george, who’s been feeling sick for a few days at that point, for nearly all pre-race activities

. it was probably all of these combined that gave you a sore throat, stuffy nose, pounding headache, and persistent cough

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

. the grid, however, did not know until thursday afternoon

. you came into the press conference room, bundled up in a long sleeve and hoodie, nose red with a scratchy voice

. you sit beside an amused lewis, resisting all urges to lay your head against the back of the couch and drift off

. “you okay y/n?”

. the only response he gets is a groan and small shake of the head

. “i’ll get you some tea when we’re done here love, you’ll be okay”

. lewis, who was always your favorite but now has new reasons to be favored, lets you rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes while you all wait for the conference to begin

. word spreads by the end of the media day, and suddenly you have new reactions from the grid

. daniel walks through the paddock with you, never afraid of a little cough

. “lewis tells me you’ve been on your death bed over here. anything I can do?”

. he insist on giving you a hug and the recipe for chicken soup that he learned from his mum and now swears by

. max, who is afraid of a little cough, is the one who makes sure you’re not being harassed when trying to sleep

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

. lando, a man who’s all too familiar with being clumsy, probably saves you a million times from walking into doorways, a drowsiness affect from the fever you keep insisting you don’t have

. he’ll keep a constant eye on you and hand on your shoulder as a precaution

. “let’s not go over there, that’s a wall”

. “y/n!”

. “mhm?” you’d say, eyes half closed with tiredness

. “that’s a door love, jeez, we should put a bell on you”

. carlos and charles, drivers who’ve had loads of experience taking care of sick younger siblings, make a team effort of ensuring you’re doing your best to get better

. “did you drink the water bottle I gave you?”

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

. “oh mon dieu you’re going to kill yourself like this”

. “just try to eat this okay? i know you’re not hungry amiga, but we have a race tomorrow, you need to eat something”

. “i got you more medicine, this one says it should take care of the cough and sneeze so you won’t have to worry about it during the race”

. and then there’s george, your sick partner in crime

. you two make a habit of trapping yourselves in one of your driver’s room

. half to prevent the sickness from spreading further, half to just be left alone

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

. reminding the other to take medicine, even though there’s a good chance that person probably hasn’t taken any medicine either

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

. as a teammate and friend, lewis tries to talk you two out of racing

. but neither budge

. you get into your car, nose still red and voice still scratchy

. and power through the race, just as you’d been taught to do

. george gets a podium and you get a good points finish, the best results you could’ve asked for considering the conditions

. and stumble out of your car once more, looking for a tissue and that chicken soup recipe

. you get checked on by multiple drivers, though the only response you’re able to give is a nod and thumbs up

. lewis accompanies you on your flight back home, and tries to help as much as you let him

. he feels a bit victorious when you say you wished you’d listen to him and not raced

. but the feeling is instantly replaced with sympathy for his friend, so he just nods and tells you to get some more rest

. after making sure you’re safe at home and surrounded by family and friends that swear on their hearts to take care of you, lewis leaves with congratulations on your season finish and wishes to get better

. you’re fine within a few days, you name the cause of your sickness “end of season fatiague” and ensure the drivers you made a full recovery by wednesday night

. so yeah

. it’s not fun at all to drive while you’re sick

. but it’s a bit easier when you have your friends looking out for you

short little f1 grid sick fic. let’s hope I didn’t just manifest myself a cold

#reader insert #formula 1 #driver reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #female driver reader #sicfic #sick reader #no graphic sick symptoms #just common cold type stuff #reader x f1 driver #f1 x you #female f1 driver

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scourgebff · 5 months

Text

more from the hollycinder partners in crime au, their little family ( original concept/au idea by @the-owl-tree )! i imagine dovewing got cinderheart’s build with hollyleaf’s striking features while ivypool is leaning more towards hollyleaf’s tall stature but cinderheart’s recognizable markings.

holly’s disappearance into the tunnels after upending the entire normalcy of thunderclan had left quite a stir in her wake. ivy and dove grow up trying to make sense of and deal with her legacy in their own ways. cinder is in the middle, fiercely protecting her daughters’ youth from a world which wants to press the weight of everything on their shoulders far too readily while also struggling to figure out her own identity.

very detailed brainrot under the cut

it seemed like an ironic twist of fate in the eyes of lionblaze and jayfeather that dove was to take holly’s part in the prophecy, quickly sweeping her under their wing and closely guiding her paws. the lingering worry that she would stray from them and onto a dangerous path as holly had- doubly so since lion was made dove’s mentor. lion is fiercely protective of dove, seeing in her a bright potential and genuinely wants her to succeed. however it is quite clear to everyone that he’s projecting his sister onto her, for all her talent and resourcefulness going beyond the shadowy pelt and leading to heightened expectations. dove swallows down her discomfort at the pressure, wanting to make everyone proud and live up to their expectations, not only as warrior but as part of a prophecy so much larger than herself. one that she feels is partially to blame for driving her other parent away, as jay eventually reveals to her to full truth, leading to feelings of guilt she doesn’t even particularly understand. torn between stars and shadows, her paws wander over clan borders in search of an answer or escape for herself while discovering things she’d never expect.

meanwhile ivy feels like a spectator in her own life. listening in on near constant rumors and gossip about her family that she isn’t even included in, instigated by a cat she doesn’t even know. getting even further frustrated by just how passively helpless to remedy anything she is. while cinder treats the two girls completely equally, ivy isn’t blind to the practically palpable anticipation thunderclan holds towards dove. she’s a prodigy, with the undivided attention of both the clan’s healers and one if not the strongest warrior as a mentor, sent on journeys and given extra assignments as cats discuss how promising she is- yet also the level of suspicion cats hold towards her for being related to both a traitor, a healer, and a windclanner. ivy is of course of the exact same blood, yet she might as well not exist to anyone but dove and cinder bar a few extended family members. feeling isolated yet reluctant to try and burden her already troubled closest kin with insecurities she feels are ‘insignificant’, ivy meets hawkfrost who seems to not mind listening. in fact he says he relates to her, having a controversial family history himself. ivy asks for advice, ending up gaining confidence with his helpful suggestions and in turn drawing closer to the dark forest. she seems more well adjusted, yet in truth she’s merely getting better at lying and giving cats a spectacle to notice her by. while her social life improves, the unease in her grows as she’s gradually lured into working for the dark forest. ivy with new confidence and supposedly trustworthy new friends feels as if she can balance the danger despite rising escalation.

cinder, ivy, and dove remain extremely close. there is certainly friction between ivy and dove, however cinder is incredibly involved in their lives. refusing to let them lash out at each other and drift apart, she’s reminded all too painfully of her bitter last interaction with holly. she regrets how they ended, strangely enough considering how she didn’t regret dirtying her paws with blood to cover up holly’s sins. what she will not tolerate however is disrespect against her kits, growing estranged from her childhood friends jay and lion upon seeing how oddly they treat dove. it’s an uncomfortable situation, yet dove and ivy both are incredibly grateful to always have cinder in their corner. just for her they’ll set their reservations towards each other aside to form an at least temporarily stable truce. that being said, cinderheart being a reincarnation of cinderpelt actually has relevance to her character here that can be a whole other post on its own so i won’t go into it.

holly is more washed than a rack full of clean dishes icl. fleeing into the tunnels was a temporary solution, made at the peak of her mental crisis she initially tries to ignore how horrifically she treated so many cats. pushing it aside, and trying to restart herself. yet she can never forget cinder, even when she leaves the tunnels to become a wanderer cinder’s loyalty always sticks out so clearly. the kindness that holly had pushed and pushed and pushed until it broke and now here they were after that blow-out argument upon the gathering’s aftermath. a lot can be said for the time she’s out living as a rouge, but she eventually will have to come back and face her horrible past mistakes. unfortunately not before meeting a cat who might change everything for the worse- darktail C:

there’s some more i could mention because the cinderholly brainrot is infectious but i already rambled enough sorry TY IF U ACTUALLY READ THIS LOL UH </3 reward for making it down here is the fullbodies of these very normal not tortured individuals i consider them an equally normal amount

#warrior cats #wc #hollyleaf #cinderheart #dovewing #ivypool #hollycinder #hollyleaf x cinderheart #my art

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drabblesandimagines · 5 months

Text

Dove (part five)

Leon Kennedy x female reader - the slowest, slow burn I swear Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

You try your best to focus on show on the television – watching them take down a non-load bearing wall with sledgehammers in a somewhat poor technique - but you really wish you had your phone. This would be a perfect time for mindless scrolling through various feeds, rather than thinking of the handsome agent you’d just taken a nap on, apparently. You wonder if anyone’s texted you, tried to call only to be met with an automated voicemail message... unless the DSO have managed to get your phone to power on, teasing a few rings before they’re asked to leave a message.

You have friends to make plans with, of course you do, but the majority are spread country-wide now, have been for years since you finished college, so it’s not going to be strange if you haven’t replied to anyone for over 24 hours… No boyfriend to fret over your whereabouts either, your last relationship too long ago for any hurt feelings to remain.

And it’s definitely for the best that you don’t have any parents who will worry when you don’t check in.

Your mind drifts back to Leon. How long could this thing last? Say when they clear you – you can’t bear to think of the alternative of being accused of a BOW crime, you’d never see the light of day again, your name buried in a file never to be released - how long will it take to work out if your life is or remains in danger, and would he stay with you the entire time? Surely he has his own life to get on with, other responsibilities to the DSO than just a babysitter, probably got a partner at home too, though there was no ring that you saw. Probably wouldn’t wear one as an agent though, gives away too much about a personal life.

Besides, there were so many people in your office, would they really know if one person made it out alive? It’s not like you had seen anything of real value, or knew anything about the assailants, besides that they were murderous creatures… or so you thought. You deal with a lot of cases, is it possible that one of them traced the operation back and sought revenge?

If the painkillers hadn’t been wearing off, aches awakening in various parts of your body, you might’ve started pacing around the room for something else to do. This place could do with a bookshelf, you reason, or maybe people aren’t here long enough to read books? There was a pile of books on your night-stand, all in hopes of being read, which just reminds you that Hunnigan said they were going to send people to search your apartment. What for – a to-do list stuck to the fridge with a magnet with a singular bullet point of ‘betray US Government’?

She said there’d been a data breach too, so did someone let loose those things as a deadly distraction to get what they came for? And surely there was a back-up in a cloud or something. You hadn’t been privy to that side of the operation and if you’d started asking questions at any point, it would’ve looked suspicious.

No, you were just a good little intelligence agent, you clocked in and out on time, dutifully noting down observations, connecting the dots all day long, just wanted to make the world a little safer for everyone, but failed miserably at doing so for the people in your office.

And those things…

Are they what you’ve been working against all this time?

You shudder as you swear you can feel the way the its wet tongue wrapped around your arm, warm saliva against the prickly goosebumps on your skin in a firm grip, its teeth, the lack of eyes, how its body looked almost inside out, muscles and sinew…

You increase the volume on the television, praying the noise cancels out your thoughts and that Leon comes back inside soon.

Leon finishes his perimeter check once again in an even 25, satisfied there’s been no unwanted guests since his last round and confirming what he’d seen via the camera feeds. It’s coming up to 1700 now - he’ll need to make some sort of dinner for you to take your meds with, so realistically his 2000 self-imposed deadline for submitting his report to Hunnigan is not happening. He can throw them together pretty quickly– experienced agent that he is – but he knows his limits. Doesn’t exactly want to rush this, especially when he hopes it’s going to clear your name. He takes out his phone and types out a text.

Need to revise my report ETA. Midnight do?

He expects Hunnigan’s caller ID to flash up as soon as she’ll have read his text, but there’s nothing. Huh – must be wrapped up in something else. He repeats his whole garage routine, eyeing up the duffel bag he’d dumped on top of the dryer when he’d came out and sighs.

He's been in safe houses before - wasn't lying about that - just not with such pleasant company, nor anyone who really deserved it so far. His track run has always been Umbrella scientists who have suddenly developed a conscience, pleading for protection and a lenient jail sentence in return for information on the corporation, or other people involved in the production of BOWs. He's certainly not made the likes of them oatmeal in the morning, drizzled a smiley face in honey – what was he thinking, again? - lunch and dinner, washed and dried dishes, helped them changed, tucked them up in bed. Hell, one guy he’d made sleep on the floor cos he was such a jerk. They’d been sent to a studio apartment of all things and Leon had happily set himself up in the bed, dumping his duffel bag of weapons across the bedspread and sat there cleaning them all methodically, checking cartridges and glaring at the man he deemed a worthless piece of shit who was sat on the two-seater sofa, sweating buckets.

He picks up the duffel bag and moves to unlock the door. Once he's submitted the report and Hunnigan's searched your place, then he'll be able to drop a couple of the rules and…

And what, Kennedy? He scolds himself. Wishes he’d crossed paths with you at DSO HQ before on a day he was feeling confident enough to shoot his shot with a drinks and dinner invitation. Hunnigan’s right from this morning – he’s grown sweet on you particularly fast, but that’s something he’s managed to retain from his younger years, too easily a lovesick puppy for any woman who will entertain it, even after everything with Ada. But it’s a little different with you, just the way he recognizes that look in your eyes, the very one of guilt, disbelief and horror that he had when he looked in the mirror after getting out of Raccoon City and every mission since.

He finally heads back inside, locking the door back up securely again. You don’t look to have moved from your position on the sofa, still looking at the television but the volume’s increased - he’s sure if he were to ask about what was happening you wouldn’t have a clue. It’s only the day after, you’ll still be trying to process everything, all whilst being locked up in a safe house with a near enough stranger and away from all your home comforts.

He places down the duffel bag carefully in its usual position before slowing walking over, making sure his steps are a little heavier than usual, aware that you might be too wrapped up in your own thoughts to have heard him re-enter and he really doesn’t wanna make you jump, very aware of how on edge you’re still going to be.

Once he’s sure he’s in your peripheral vision, he waves – smooth, Kennedy – know he’s got a goofy-looking smile on his face as he drops his arm back to his side. “Er… I’m back.”

“Hi,” you can’t help but smile back at his awkward little half-wave. “Everything okay out there?”

“Yeah – all clear, as expected. You hungry? Thought I could whip up some dinner to go alongside your next dose of painkillers.”

“I think I could manage something.” Your appetite is still shy – managed half a sandwich at lunch and that was sitting a little heavy in your stomach, but you know that Leon’s not going to let you take medication again without some sort of food.

“Okay, lemme see what we’ve got.” He claps his hands together, heading back towards the kitchen. You wince a little as you turn in place to watch him rummage through the cupboards, trying to assemble a meal from what the DSO had packed up. About a moment or two later, he pops his head up above the counter. “How about pasta? I think I can put together a somewhat decent tomato sauce for it.”

“Pasta sounds good.” You get to your feet as he ducks his head back down, continues his rummage in the cupboards before placing various items out as he works it all out in his head. “I know I’m one-handed, but… can I do anything?”

He stands up then with a bag of pasta in hand, ready to protest when he takes another good look at you, standing awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen area, sees the tinge of frustration across your face about everything clear as day, obviously sick of the television for now and he can’t blame you - there’s nothing else to do here but sleep, eat and watch that.

“Yeah, actually,” he sweeps his hair out of his face and places down the pasta on the counter. “I think I can find something.”

20 minutes later, you’re stood at the hob, stirring Leon’s off-the-cuff tomato sauce – a can of chopped tomatoes, some peppers and herbs - to stop it from sticking to the bottom of the pot as the pasta bubbles away in another, all whilst he grates some cheese on the counter behind you. It’s the easiest job by far, you’re having to stir it oh so gently, lacking the other hand to hold the pot handle steady and you know it would probably be fine left alone to simmer, but it’s nice to feel like you’re contributing a little at last.

“How we doing over here?” Leon stands behind you, looks over your shoulder at his culinary creations.

“Okay, I think. It smells good.”

“Ah, trying to flatter the chef.” His watch beeps – a timer he’d set for the pasta. “Excuse me.”

You think he’s going to step forward to turn off the hob so you step back at the same time that he places a hand on your waist, thinking you were about to move off to the side. You bump into his chest – a reminder of how solid it had been when you’d taken that involuntarily nap on him earlier and Leon swallows down a nervous chuckle as your backside nestles for a moment against his crotch.

“Sorry, Dove, I-“

“Oh, sorry-“

The two of you apologise over each other, awkwardly, and you finally step to the side, Leon dropping his hand to swiftly turn the heat off the hob for both of the pots. “I… I think I’m good here – do you want to handle drinks?”

“Yeah, sure.” You duck your head down, swearing your face is now as red as the pasta sauce, and retrieve the glasses from the coffee table from earlier, refilling them with water from the kitchen tap and returning them back one by one, as Leon sets about draining the pasta and then combining the two.

You don’t sit yet and hang back, watching him dish up between two bowls before he slides on towards the end of the counter, followed by the plate of grated cheese. “Wanna do your own cheese too?”

“Yeah - thanks.” You walk forward and grab some of the cheese to sprinkle over the pasta. It feels nice to have some autonomy again, to be contributing in any sort of way and you think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this awkwardness of the situation, even if it’s just through dinner…

Leon crouches down to open a cupboard and you hear him fiddle with the metal lockbox being unlocked as he retrieves your medication.

..maybe not.

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day! Part six.

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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tofics · 4 months

Text

Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

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@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

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