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mrsrookhunt · 10 months

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What to Expect When Your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula

PART TWO, PART THREE

A continuation (Mini fic Ver.) fic of what I made for Rook, HERE

| Synop.: You and your lab partner make a mistake in your potion, one that comes out looking strangely like it's related to you.. |

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Floyd Leech, Sebek Zigvolt, (Rook Hunt) x MC

Warnings: Suggestive (Floyd), Angst (Sebek), implied light manipulation (Malleus)

Scroll Farther Alert! There's a narration cut for the second part of each fic after the first portion. Don't miss it! Each ends with fluff. Sebek's is long, fair warning.

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You're trying to make a simple transformation potion, aging up a tadpole to a frog, when you add the wrong ingredient, and use one drop too many on the poor tadpole. The result is a child that looks eerily like the two of you...

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Azul Ashengrotto

"Holy-- great sevens, Azul, is that a child??"

He holds it up a foot away from him, equally baffled.

"Don't ask me! You're the one who insisted on using the wrong ingredients!"

"You were the one who picked those--"

"WAHHHHHH--" The baby flails its arms and fusses at your petty squabbles.

You turn your attention back to the small creature, looking disoriented from being held so far away from any solid ground.

Azul's watching too, as the child seems to scold you both with an oddly knowing glare that could kill.

You've seen that glare before--

"Azul, am I crazy, or does that thing look like you??"

"Weh." It motions towards you as Azul looks over it.

"Gracious, so it does. And it looks like you too. Look at its' nose and eyes."

You come closer to look, but the baby seems intent on having you hold it, squirming out of Azul's hands.

"Ahem, I believe the little one wants you--"

He pushes the wiggly baby into your arms, taking the moment to reposition his glasses, which had slid down with nervous sweat.

"I'll go talk to professor Crewel, there is undoubtedly something he can do about this."

Malleus Draconia

"Child of man! What is that you're holding?"

"Um... it was supposed to be a frog...."

Malleus takes it from you, holding it cautiously. The little baby he holds has soft black hair, slit-pupiled eyes the same color as yours, and suspiciously familiar shorter horns. It coos at him and motions to his horns with curious, grabby hands.

"Whatever we did, we must have touched it at the same time, Tsunotarou... Because it looks like a mix of both of us."

He puts it on the back of his neck with his arms up to support the chubby infant as it grabs at his horns.

"Hm. It's quite cute, Child of man. We can keep it in Diasomnia if Ramshackle doesn't have the capacity to care for it."

You stare on in disbelief.

"It's... its a frog with a transformation potion... we can't keep it, Malleus!"

He frowns, taking the infant down from his shoulders and cradling the small bundle to his chest.

"The potion had birch seed in it. The transformation is permanent; so I don't see a reason to get rid of it."

Malleus smiles, tickling its chubby cheeks.

"There's no way it's totally permane-- Wait. Didn't you have me add some of those ingredients? Did you know this would happen?"

Malleus is suspiciously silent.

"Malleu--"

"I'll go ask professor Crewel if there's a reversal." He sighs, handing the baby to you and moping all the way to the desk.

Lilia Vanrouge

"If you wanted a baby, precious, you could've just asked--"

You nearly slap him. So cocky, when there's a baby that looks suspiciously like you and Lilia on the table where a grown frog should be.

"Sevens, Lilia, this is not the time--"

He chuckles.

"In my defense, I told you not to use a sprig of pine."

You splutter, lost for words and flustered. The baby certainly seems to share Lilia's sense of humor, giggling mischievously at your flustered expression.

You pick it up before Lilia can, determined to barge straight into professor Crewel's office if you had to to get an answer on what this thing was.

"Heh, MC, the baby's smiling at you--" Lilia calls from a distance. You look down and find that the baby is indeed wholeheartedly excited that you're paying it attention, reaching its chubby arms up to feel your face and grab your nose.

"Aww.. so cute," You whisper, blowing a stray breath into its face for amusement.

"I heard that!" Lilia shouts from the table. "Don't go getting too attached now. I'm not raising another child, darling."

"Shush! I'm taking it to the professor right now, you have nothing to worry about."

Floyd Leech

"SHRIMPY, CAN WE KEEP IT---"

Floyd is whirling the baby around in excited twirls.

It's a very cute moment, but you're still baffled at the little creature's existence-- since it very much didn't exist about 10 seconds ago.

"Floyd, I'm pretty sure that's just an oversized tadpole..."

He stops in mock offense, thrusting the baby into your face.

"Does this look like a tadpole to you?? Unless you're suggesting that we both look like tadpoles, in which case, I'm taking offense because this baby looks like us."

He puts it down to play with its tiny legs.

"Look, shrimpy! It's going for a walk--" He pauses to think. "A sky walk!!" And continues to make the little one's legs 'walk'.

While Floyd is busy making baby noises to amuse the child, you're panicking. This potion had birch seed-- an ingredient known to make transformation potions permanent, if you remembered correctly.

"Floyd, c'mon, give it here, we need to take this to profess--"

"NOO we'll keep it!!!" Floyd holds the baby tight to his chest. "It's wayyy too cute!"

You pry the baby from him reluctantly.

"We cannot just keep a child, Floyd, it's not an animal--"

"If you take this one I'm just gonna make another one!!" He cries, moving to grab another tadpole from the tank.

"NO NO NO NO FLOYD--"

"Well don't take my little sea-star then!!"

You sigh.

"I'm almost 100% sure this is permanent anyway, but neither of us are in a position to care for this baby. We might as well take it to the professors and see if they can do something. We can't just hide the fact that we accidentally made a baby for our final project anyway---"

He mutters something about 'could've made a baby other ways, but it had to be the boring way', but allows you to go with the little one, who coos in your ear.

You hear a clatter.

"GET YOUR HAND OUT OF THE TADPOLE TANK, FLOYD--"

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human, explain. Explain----"

The baby bites his finger, which apparently was pointing at it too close for its liking.

"Ouch--! What do you think you're doing, little tyke? Do you think that just because you're an infant that you have an excuse to bite a retainer of the great Waka-sama??"

The baby looks blankly at him.

"You can't scold a baby, Sebek." You scoffed, bouncing the child on your hip.

"Fine! But you still have to explain why this child has my hair and eyes and....-- isn't that your nose?" He looks momentarily horrified as he comes to the conclusion you came to minutes earlier.

"Oh NO NO NO NO MC THAT IS NOT OUR CHILD, TELL ME THAT CREATURE ISN'T OURS--"

"For goodness sake Sebek you're shouting right in our baby's ear--"

"'OUR'?? THAT IS NOT 'OUR' ANYTHING, THAT IS YOUR POTIONOLOGY MISTAKE AND NOTHING MORE--"

He's babbling nearly incoherently at this point, and you have to stop the baby from attempting to bite him again out of what you can only assume is annoyance.

"...I would NEVER have a child with a lowly, magicless human, this CANNOT get out---"

"waah...wEHHHHHHHH"

Sebek stops talking for a moment, ears ringing.

You, too, are shocked.

"Sebek.. if it's not your child then I have ANOTHER auditory atrocity of a person to avoid on this planet."

"..."

"I'm taking it to professor Crewel."

"I think that's wise."

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You/ your lab partner take the child to professor Crewel, who determines that it is in fact a permanent transformation, and that biologically the baby is as much yours as any other naturally born to the two of you.

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Azul Ashengrotto

"Are... you ok, Azul? You've been staring into space for a... ahem, awhile."

The baby crawls around the the VIP Room of Mostro Lounge, bumping into walls. You suspect it may need glasses.

Surprisingly, the baby seems well-tempered, unless you have the misfortune of holding it the wrong way or otherwise inconveniencing it, to which it seems highly irritated.

However, it was one 'just like your father' comment that sent the already figity Azul into an unresponsive state.

"Was, um.. was that too soon?" You ask tentatively.

"..Yes.. yes, I think it was." He responds distantly.

"Azul, it's gonna be ok. We'll figure it out." You get up from the floor to hold his hand.

He meets your gaze, eyes sharp and calculating.

"Yes, of course we'll be fine, how could we not be? Finances are no issue and we could always hire a babysitter and.... well, it's not that. It's just a lot to take in."

"Today's been wild," You agree softly, gently picking up the baby to put it in his lap. "But I'm here for you."

You lean down to the baby's level.

"We're here for you, little one."

Malleus Draconia

"I still CANNOT believe you knew, Malleus--"

You're still squabbling with him pointlessly, even though the damage is already done. You can honestly say you've well warmed up to the baby, and Malleus seems to be doing worse than you on the details, having apparently very little idea how to care for a child other than playing with it.

"I'm sorry, Child of Man. I didn't know it was permanent," He insists calmly, but you don't quite believe that.

You sigh. He can act clueless as long as he'd like, but the overly exuberant smile on his face while interacting with your child says more than words.

He picked up the baby and put it down on his bed, already having sewn little, special pillows for the baby to sleep comfortably with its horns.

"You better be a good dad, you hear me?" You say, less threatening that you thought it would come out.

He beckons you over to the bed to lay down next to your baby.

"I will, Child of Man, I promise."

Lilia Vanrouge

You knock on his dorm room door, baby on your hip.

"So..um.. bad news, Lilia... it's perman-- Are you having a party?"

He shoos out at least 10 members of Diasomnia.

"I know, dear. Unfortunately I didn't realize what you had done in time to stop you. So I was having a little 'last moments of freedom party'. How sad, and Silver was essentially all grown up now.. Well, what's another 16 years?"

You're speechless. You had kind of forgotten that he was Silver's adoptive father.

"I'm... sorry, Lilia, I should've payed closer attention to the instructions and I screwed up--"

"Hush, it's fine. It's not the end of the world."

He takes the baby from you.

"I already brought in an old cradle and some food for our little one, see?"

He points out an old wooden crib next to his bed.

"Wow... you're.. so prepared, and I haven't even thought about that stuff.."

He smiled at you, nuzzling the baby's cheek a few times simultaneously.

"I'll admit, it got me a little excited. I didn't think an old man like myself would get the chance to raise a child of my own flesh and blood. But never say never, I suppose. You have nothing to worry about, precious. What you don't know, I have already experienced."

"...Thank you for being so understanding, Lilia."

"Of course, dear, after all, we're a family now."

Bonus the one stipulation is that you will not and will not ever share the cooking duties with him. Silver makes you swear by it to avoid his own childhood traumas for his younger siblings.

Floyd Leech

You brace yourself for the inevitable flurry of excitement before knocking on Floyd's door.

"WHERE'S MY LITTLE SEA STARRRRRR~~~~" You hear from the other side of the door before the door flies open. You hand the baby off to Floyd, who's more than ecstatic.

"It's permanent," you sigh, hoping he's listening. "We have to take care of the baby now--"

"WheeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEE" Floyd runs back and forth across the small room with the child, making faces all the while.

"Floyd!" You scold, finally breaking his stride.

"Ehh? I hear you, shrimpy, how can I not? It's ok, I have a plan. We'll love this baby with our whole hearts!"

"...That's the plan?"

"I spent two hours thinking of it, do you like it?"

"That child cannot stay here," A smooth voice cuts in. "This room is much too small for the two of us, let alone a third."

"Oh, hey Jade, didn't see ya come in," Floyd remarks casually. "And obviously I've thought of that. The baby will live in Ramshackle, because there's more space. It just needs some touch ups to be babyproof, is all."

"Touch-ups? It needs a whole remodel."

Floyd grins.

"Got an idea, shrimpy. Transfer to Octavinelle! Then the baby can share a room with you and we'll all be nearby!"

"Oh forget it, I'm asking Crowley to help me improve Ramshackle. Until then, you'll have to deal with the living arrangements." You put your hands on your hips and give Jade a look that means you'll raise hell if he doesn't agree to you and Floyd's half-baked plans.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt, so long as it was temporary."

"YESSSSS!!!!!"

Floyd's excitement leads to him jumping on you.

"D'ya hear that, Shrimpy? That means you can stay here too. And we'll be one big happy family."

Sebek Zigvolt

"Sebek?" You gently knock on his door, after having been told he'd been doing nothing but pacing around all evening.

"Sebek," you call again, a bit louder.

The door swings open violently.

"What?? Who dare disturb my-- oh. Human." He ushers you into his room swiftly.

"You still have the child? When does it leave?" He asked quickly.

"It doesn't," You said bluntly, putting down the freshly bathed and swaddled bundle onto his bed.

"Don't touch----! Ugh.. Besides... What do you mean, 'it doesn't'? It's leaving, I will not have that thing associated with the Zigvolt name just because of some lowly human's stupid mistakes!"

If you weren't so exhausted, you would be shouting at a decibel rivaling his own.

"Sevens, Sebek, it's permanent, no way around it. I can't go back in time and change this-! You were the one reading off the ingredients anyway, how dare you blame this on me?" You challenge.

"Ah-ahh.. Well, why didn't you check yourself?? Do I need to do everything for you!?" He crossed his arms.

"No, but you do need to do your task, and competently!"

That seemed to shut him up.

"W-whatever. I cannot be a proper retainer to--"

"Fine. Then don't raise the baby at all, I'll take care of it. I never said you had to involved."

"...I.. Human, I didn't say that." His tone seems to soften. You know he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders in his mind but you still find it hard to excuse his poor behavior.

He sits down next to the baby, picking it up at arms length.

"It's cute, just a bit. But I pity it.. it has even less faerie blood than me."

"Is that the heart of this?" You question gently, knowing it's a sore subject.

"Yes, I suppose so.."

"Sebek. Your heritage doesn't define you, and it won't define our child. You are an amazing, devoted person, and you've worked hard to be the person you are, and that's really all that matters. You have no reason to be upset, or worried. We can make this work, I promise. And I promise that I'll there to help you get through this. That is, if you're willing to."

He sighs, taking your hand.

"I fear I am diluting my sullied bloodline more than it already is. The Zigvolt family works with the royal family as their right-hand consults and guards. It's been that way for generations. But who would want a fae so adulterated with human genetics by their side?"

"I don't think that's true. If you really think that's the case, then why is Silver allowed to train as a protector as well? Malleus and Lilia are equally respectful of you both. You don't have to give up your family's title and honor just because of this."

He stiffens, a proud smile on his face.

"You are right, human! I shall not let this get the best of me. I will raise my child to be as dutiful as me!"

You laugh, relieved that he's warming up to the idea of having a family.

You kiss him on the forehead, giving him a hug that encompasses the baby in the middle.

"I'll work hard at being a good father, I swear on it."

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-June 30th, 2023

-Kaori

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midnightcrw · 7 months

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Mama's Boy

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Summary: Holding and seeing his daughter for the first time

a/n: Did I almost cry while writing this? Yes, I almost did. But I really hope you all will like it. The story about Simon's mother is made up by me, but I just thought it would explain why I thought of naming Simon's daughter Daisy.

“She has your eyes.” He whispered softly under his breath.

You smiled as you sat down beside him. Daisy did have your eyes, but the rest of her resembled Simon.

"She looks more like you, though," you said quietly as you looked at your daughter.

It was the first time he had held and seen her since his mission a month ago.

At first he had hesitated to hold her, but now that she was in his arms, he seemed to relax slightly as he admired her.

Daisy was more of a mini-Simon, her features almost identical to his.

Your beloved husband was still a man of few words, and looked more like a wall of ice at first. But you knew how to see past that veneer of stoicism, his beautiful eyes were always filled with a wealth of unspoken emotions.

Daisy was his everything, and as he sat there holding their little bundle of joy, he silently thanked the heavens for leading him to you.

Was it all a stroke of fate, or destiny? Nobody could say for certain.

"What did you name her?" Simon whispered, not wanting to disturb Daisy's peaceful expression as he still kept his eyes on her.

"Daisy," you said softly, almost being too afraid to utter it out.

And for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Simon's eyes widened slightly as his shoulders tensed.

You were afraid of how he would react. The two of you hadn't talked about baby names before, but you had one in mind.

Simon didn't usually talk about his past, only when it really ate him alive, and one thing that stuck with you was the story he once told you.

Simon's mom loved flowers, especially Daisy's. She always kept some in a little vase. She used to tell him that whenever things got bad at home, she would take a few of Daisy's home with her because they meant new beginnings.

It was a silly thought, but it gave her hope. If the new beginning wasn't meant for her, at least she wanted it to be for Simon.

You remembered tearing up at the story, and from then on you knew you would name your daughter Daisy.

His eyes widened slightly as he looked back at you.

"Daisy." Simon repeated slowly as he took a moment to absorb what you had said.

Your husband was a private person by nature, but you noticed that he was beginning to show signs of emotion. His face softened, revealing the faintest smile as his lips formed the words...

"Thank you."

His lips trembled slightly as he bit his lower lip, while a single tear made its way down your face.

You kissed his cheek and watched him hold her. You hadn't named her after his own mother, knowing how sensitive the subject was for him. But you had chosen Daisy because it would make it easier for him to look at her and remember a good memory his mother had left behind.

Simon still held his tears back as he looked at Daisy. His precious daughter.

And he knew that for a fact, his mother was watching from above, with a smile on her face.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley oneshot #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #simon ghost x you

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missmugiwara · 10 days

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A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x y/n #mugi writes

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 6 months

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Halloween prompts year 2 day 23

Au where Danny hides his powers and eldrich nature from his husband Tim and Tim hides his vigilante career from Danny.

Both are very successful and neither suspects a thing. Tim had originally planned to admit to being a hero at some point but they were always either interrupted or it just wasn't the right time and then Danny had mentioned a few times during thier engagement and marriage that he couldn't handle being with a superhero or vigilante and that it was a deal breaker. Unfortunately Tim was already deeply in love and couldn't bare to break up with him so now he lives in fear of Danny finding out and blackmailed the rest of the family into never letting it slip.

Danny is in a similar situation, ever since the portal incident people were afraid of his other half and no matter how hard he tried they always ended up hating him. He loved Tim and couldn't bare the thought of his husband having that same look of terror. Of hate. So he hid. Its all he could do. Back when he and his friends went on that road trip and gained the power of the reality gauntlet he had tried to undo his undeath entirely only to find out Danny had glitches spacetime enough that even if he undid it (which the gauntlet was incapable of doing) he would eventually wind up with the portal opening up on top of him at another date. Call it fate or destiny or whatever you like. He was stuck like this.

So he did the next best thing. He erased any proof he had ever existed. Even from the minds of his own friends. He then skipped town-or in this case universes- and used the gauntlets power to carve out a false identity in this new world full of heroes and hope

Luckly there was no one who could rat him out...until some blond guy in a trenchcoat started following him around the grocery store and talking to him. At first Danny was a little confused and annoyed but when he asked what the blond guy wanted he asked, "I wanna know what you are." And Danny went pale.

Constantine then proceeded to blackmail Danny into helping him with a case or else he would expose his dirty little secret to Tim.

Danny made the a deal, ensuring that it would only be this one time. He told Tim that he was being blackmailed but insinuated that it was something petty between him and some of the other high society house spouses. The kind of drama that Tim always made extra sure to steer clear of. He swore to Tim he was this close to spiking Bethanys muffins with a laxative in retaliation for something and Tim gave helper suggestions for how to do it without being caught while they got ready for the day.

Ever since Alfred passed away it was up to Danny and a few other people to keep the Waynes from falling apart. Honestly, no one realized how much that man did until he wasn't around anymore.

To be fair he pretty much spoiled Tim by picking up after him to the point the man can't function after a few days. If Danny ever had to leave Tim alone for prolonged periods of time he would return to a giant mess and something burning in the kitchen.

Danny would clean, Tim would spew a fountains worth of apologizes, he would forgive Tim (as if he was ever mad in the first place. This just reaffirmed that Tim needed him to protect and care for him, making his core vibrate in happiness) then they would...reacquaint themselves. He nearly shifted forms the first few times this happened. That would be one heck of a way for Tim to find out about his ghost half.

Danny smiled, thinking about those memories. He truly adored Tim and couldn't imagine a life without him. He would just have to make sure this trench coated guy never came anywhere near his precious husband.

John would really like to know what this entity was and what it wanted with the Wayne brat. It couldn't really be in love with the kid, could it? He had personally seen these relationships work out before but there many more he had seen that hadn't. He didn't want to take that risk, so he needed to get close enough to evaluate the situation himelf.

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #tim drake #brain dead #dead tired #red robin #yum #red robin dc #danny phantom x red robin #married brain dead #married dead tired #does Constantine know that the wayne are the bats in this? you decide #Constantine may have flirted with Danny at some point but danny shut that down fast. He was a monster but not a cheater.#Danny refuses to betray Tim

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timhalamet · 2 months

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I saw laurie Lawrence and i got so excited (i see no fics of him even though he’s like the perfect man even if he sucks sometimes.) i’m excited to see your writings <3

the way things go

pairings- laurie laurence x fem!reader

summary- after over hearing laurie propose to your sister Jo, heartbroken you decide to leave to paris

warnings- angst, not proofread nothing else

'would you do me the greatest honour of making me your husband.'

Laurie's words seemed to replay and echo in the dull hollow walls of your mind. Your heart ached as tears dripped down your face . You were going to tell Laurie you loved him. You thought he loved you.

It was obvious now that you were wrong.

With a hand clamped over your mouth, you muffled the sob threatening to break out from your throat.

What made it worse was that he hadn't proposed to anyone else.

He proposed to Jo.

Anger simmed through you, overtaking the flow of your pain. You had asked Jo if something between her and Laurie had been going on and everytime she replied with 'don't be silly! Laurie's like my brother!' or 'laurie!? What possibly could make you think that!?' and brushed it off with furrowed brows and a disgusted frown.

But that didn't match up with what you had just witnessed.

Through the slightly ajar door, you walked down the hallway of lauries and his grandfather's house, hoping to speak to him only to be met with the sight of Laurie on one knee facing Jo, with a small velvet box holding one of the most gorgeous ring you have ever seen.

'would you do me the greatest honour of make me your husband.'

You held back your sob and flew down the stairs not caring if either of Jo or Laurie heard you.

You ran. Ran till you were in your bedroom, without a second thought, stuffing the rest of your precious belongings into your suitcase, filling it to the brim.

You looked around at your room savouring every inch before hauling your suitcase and down the stairs.

'you're already leaving so early?'

Marmees soft gentle voice called out from behind you, and you sighed turning around to face.

'should I get laurie to help you?'

A weak smile formed on your face, but you knew it was no use. Marmee could see right through anyone.

'no it's alright..I wouldn't want to bother him' your words came out more bitter than you intended to.

Soon without telling Meg, Jo, Beth, or Amy, you walked out of the door.

And to Paris.

'would you do me the greatest honour of make me your husband.'

Laurie knelt on knee holding the velvet box to Jo.

Jo squealed and grabbed Laurie up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

'its perfect! It's time, we need to go tell the others!'

'wait I need to look presentable' Laurie joked before dusting his clothes off and fixing the rough state of his hair.

The pair soon went to Lauries grandfather and told him the news.

He was ecstatic.

They spent an hour with lauries grandfather, before trampling through the thick mount of snow to tell marmee and the girls.

'is she here?', Laurie asked marmee.

Marmee sadly smiled, 'shes already left to the train station'

Laurie felt his heart drop to his stomach.

'what?'

'shes already left to Paris, if you're lucky the train might not have departed yet due to the snow storm.'

You sat on one of the benches at the train station, the bell jar in your hand, as you read impatiently waiting for your train to arrive.

Soon the call of your train was made.

You grabbed your suitcase and bag, holding the book with our arm.

As you began to struggle as you attempted to haul your suitcase and bag on the train, you felt arms grab your suitcase and a familiar voice.

'wait!'

You turned around to see Laurie, his hair sticking in all directions, and his face flushed from the snow.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the train.

'what were you thinking? You were just going to leave? Without telling the girls? Without telling me?' his voice was strained and raspy as if he had been screaming.

'laurie I don't have time for this- the train its leaving!' you harshly ripped yourself from Laurie's grip, attempting to chase the train down as it slowly departed, only to be in his hold again.

He held you against his chest.

'youre not leaving. You cant-why?'

You struggled to find your words.

You looked at him million answers as to why. Why? 'why? Really Laurie why? You know exactly why!' you held a finger to him accusingly as you jabbed him in the chest 'you- what happened to us? We were so close. I love you Laurie. That's 'why?'.' Laurie's jaw dropped as you continued. 'i love you and I thought...' your voice trailed off as you swallowed the lump in your throat frustrated. 'i thought you loved me to. And I went. I went to tell you but you already proposed, I was too late. You love her.' your voice dropped with jealousy and anguish.

'what?' Laurie asked his brows furrowed as he bit the inside of his cheek 'who are you taking about? I love you. Only you.'

You were confused. But didn't he propose to Jo? 'laurie I saw you... I saw..but you proposed to jo.'

Lauries faced changed. His eyes widened as his mouth slowly formed into a grin before he started laughing.

'laurie it's not funny!' you exclaim, yet also finding yourself trying to hide your smile, pushing him away playfully.

Laurie grabbed your hands, enlacing his fingers with yours.

'god, i was practicing to propose.' he chuckled ' I was practicing to propose. To you.'

'oh.' was all that left your mouth but it was nothing compared to the whirlwind of emotions in your stomach.

'so what do you say? Will you be my wife?' he asked grinning as his hands revealed a small velvet box holding the same gorgeous diamond ring.

'yes!' you beamed at him, your cheeks flushed as he slid the ring on your finger.

As laurie quickly embraced you, his chin on your head as you wrapped your arms around your torso, Laurie chuckled,

'i can't believe that after all that practicing this is the propsosal.'

'well I guess that's just the way things go.'

a/n I hate this so much but idk if it's just me 😭 I hope it's okay for you guys!

#laurie laurence x you #fem!reader #laurie laurence fluff #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #theodore laurence x reader #theodore laurence #theodore laurie laurence #laurie laurence imagine #laurie laurence one shot #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet #little women #little women imagine #little women oneshot #laurie laurence angst

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periwinklemoonlight · 5 months

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little sunshine ⋆ boatem knights au

my second short story set in bee @applestruda 's boatem knights au and canon to the plot written by zera @hopepetal !! also make sure to check out bee's bkau gem and etho designs <3 !

cw: decapitation, murder, blood

if you prefer, you can read it on ao3!

⋆⋆⋆

“-And you’re sure this is the man responsible?” The room was spacious, more than big enough for hundreds to fit in, yet the tension in the air filled it with an undeniably claustrophobic atmosphere. Precious artefacts lined the walls and occupied the floors, meticulously positioned in a perfect pattern to suit the path of a would-be museum goer. Now, however, one was missing. And only the most ancient and irreplaceable of the lot, of course.

“Completely.” An odd chill ran up the spine of the curator as she spoke. It shouldn’t have been possible, she thought, she had barely taken her eyes off of that corner of the room for a second before the amulet had vanished into thin air. All she had caught a glimpse of in the aftermath, she was sure of, was a man with stark white hair and a mask darker than the deepest night sky, fleeing the scene with a swiftness she could only ascribe to a seasoned thief.

She had only ever seen that man once before, yet something in her gut was absolutely sure it was him. A few years back, she had stayed at an inn just out of town on a business trip. Her stay had been all-around pleasant, the owner undoubtedly a delight to talk to, full of cheerful stories and helpful advice for travel. The same couldn't've been said for their companion, however.

He had brooded in the corner of the inn, shooting her occasional unreadable glances as she conversed with the owner, any emotion beyond ice cold eyes concealed by a mask of blackest night. His back to the wall, practically blending in with the shadows around him, she had nearly cancelled her stay the minute she spotted him.

The only thing that had convinced her to stay despite her better judgement was the owner’s utmost insistence that that man was nothing to fear, that she’d be completely and utterly safe at the inn. Something in their tone had been so, so earnest, she couldn’t help but be inclined to believe them. They were right, she had been entirely safe after all, yet she never could quite shake the cold chill that permeated her body every time the man passed her by.

“Then it seems we’ve got a bounty on our hands.” The guard concluded with a severe nod.

“Bounty, you say?” A cheery voice asked from across the room. The curator whipped her head around to watch as polished hooves clicked onto the museum flooring.

“How did you-?” The curator asked, before cutting herself off to fully take in the person before her. There stood Gemini Tay, adorned in finely crafted emerald silks and lightweight armour, wild red hair expertly contained in a sweeping braid, and absolutely armed to the teeth in various weapons hanging lazily across her waist. It wasn’t a bad look for the most notorious bounty hunter in the land, all things considered.

“Word gets around,” Gem replied with a grin, absentmindedly twirling an intricately carved knife in her hand as she approached. “And I’m always down to lend a helping hand!”

She paused, then eyed the curator’s own ostentatious outfit. “...For a fair price, of course.”

“Of course,” The curator repeated, a keen smile worming its way to her face.

⋆⋆⋆

If there was one thing she relished in being known for, it was that once she had her target in her sights, Gem wasted no time.

It wasn’t hard to spot him, after all. The description the curator had given her was one of the most interesting she’d gotten in a while. A man known only as “Etho”, with a harsh red scar blinding him in one eye and never once seen without a dark mask obscuring half his face. During her journey, Gem had learned that nobody in the area could quite recall when he’d started working at the inn, or even if he actually worked there at all. In fact, it was a popular local rumour that the man was simply a vagrant that the kind innkeeper had taken pity on during one particularly frigid winter and never thought to kick out afterwards.

Regardless of whatever his backstory might have been, Gem couldn’t really care less. All she really cared to know about him was that he was the only thing standing between her and a ludicrously lavish payout.

It was only a lucky coincidence that the innkeeper wasn’t in when she arrived. There was her target, standing far too nonchalantly behind the counter and looking as if he was preparing to greet her. She wasn’t about to give him the chance. Instantly she swung at him, hard and fast, looking to get a clean kill. To her astonishment, however, he suddenly disappeared within a blink of an eye, reappearing once more just as fast and now on top of the counter. Gem watched as a dark, smoky substance wafted off him as he jumped down and dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

When she looked at Etho now, it was as if he were slightly transparent, blurred at the edges. She blinked, and he was whole again, no trace of anything amiss. She growled and swung again with impossible force, heaving as her sword broke the floorboards where it landed. Again, she could have sworn that some dark substance was following him, aiding him in his escape.

“Hey, hey! I don’t know what I did but, uh, I’m sure we can settle this some other way?” Etho offered as he slid backwards on the wooden floors like they were an ice rink, smoke trailing off him and weaving through the air.

“No can do sir!” Gem replied as she swung once more, again missing him by a fraction of a centimetre. “You got a hefty bounty on your head, and I intend to take it!”

The fight escalated with Gem’s frustration. She spun herself around and leaped at Etho, sword high in the air and aiming to plunge it deep into his skull. Instead, she hit the inn’s counter, splitting the wood and knocking several small objects astray. Her hooves skidded against the floor as she reeled backwards, and wasted no time forcefully wrenching her sword free.

Wood chippings now scattered across the floor, Gem paid them no mind in her pursuit. The action seemed to distract Etho somewhat, discontent flashing across his heterochromatic eyes, and she took the opportunity to strike.

Finally, with a lucky stab, she managed to pin him down against the inn’s wall, plunging her sword into his shoulder with a devastating crack and watching as what must have been blood seeped out from it. He gasped, eyes darting to the wound. A wild grin found its way to Gem’s face.

“You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?” She asked, using the moment to catch her breath before unsheathing a second, smaller sword from around her waist. The sharp blade glinted in the deep, warm light of the inn. The reflection didn’t make it to Etho’s eyes. “Shame I’m gonna have to take you out like all the rest of ‘em. I’ll make it quick, though. You’ve earned it.”

It was odd, she thought briefly. Despite the sword driven straight through him, he didn’t appear to actually really care about it all that much. His breathing was as steady as ever, and he barely moved at all beside a futile effort to scoot away from her intense gaze. His eyes were calm, watching her every move in something almost akin to silent fascination rather than the fear she had grown accustomed to. No matter, though, Gem decided as she made clean work of him, lopping off his head in a single swing.

It fell to the ground with a solid thunk, rolling slightly before making its stop like any old head should. A tenseness she didn’t know she was holding finally released, and she breathed again. Blood was splattered all over the inn’s floors, and she grit her teeth as she imagined the cut from her paycheck she’d have to give the keeper to get it cleaned. All this for some measly priceless artefact? Still, it was over.

She picked up his head by the hair, and stepped back in shock as she felt just how cold it was. Instantly, it called to mind the way it felt to grab a fistful of snow with no gloves for the first time, fingertips fully immersed in the unadulterated icy chill. For a brief moment, it reminded her of… home. Gem had never considered herself the squeamish type, especially not with an occupation such as hers, but the realization gripping hold of her in that split second was enough to make her gag.

Her grip on his hair loosened for a second, but she caught herself before the head could drop. On a second examination, she noticed what looked like snowflakes scattered in his white hair and decorating his long eyelashes. It was then she finally heard the faint crackling sound that had been slowly spreading around her. The blood that had been flowing freely from Etho’s body was freezing up, and fast.

Gem could do nothing but watch in horror as the blood on the walls and floor turned to thick ice, cracking and shattering into pieces around her as soon as it solidified. Within no time it had spread to his severed head, and she gasped as the blood that still dripped from his neck froze midair and fell to the floor, fragmenting into dozens of tiny pieces.

She broke her gaze from the head in her hands just long enough to witness a mountain of ice emerge from what remained of his body’s neck, accompanied by a low hissing noise that made her stomach churn. Gem realized then the shape that it was forming. Fractals of ice packed in and around each other, working in tandem to sculpt out a new head identical to the one in her hands. The only difference being, there was nothing to cover the lower half of his face. If she could even call that half a face.

Once the hissing had stopped, that same dark substance she had seen swirl around him in their fight began to seep out from the wound, covering the newly formed head in a thin black layer and obscuring his features. Her heart dropped as she watched the shadowy liquid be absorbed into the ice, revealing a brand new head on Etho’s shoulders, indistinguishable from the first and complete with a new mask. His eyes fluttered open.

“That wasn’t very nice of you, now was it?” Etho asked as he turned his head to look over at her, an amused smile painting his voice. Gem screamed.

⋆⋆⋆

Gem had never fainted before. With the amount of blood and guts she spilled with a smile on a daily basis, she hadn’t thought it was even possible for someone like her. Evidently, though, everyone had their limits.

More confusingly, though, was that she had awoken tucked nice and neatly in a warm bed, with at least a dozen pillows cushioning her head and antlers. With a slight turn of her head, she could see a still-warm cup of cocoa resting on the table next to her and causing a sweet scent to waft through the little room she now found herself in.

She groaned, sitting herself up in the bed and trailing her hand up her forehead, where she could feel a piece of gauze sticking out. Another glance around her surroundings revealed that her weapons were nowhere to be seen. Gem cursed under her breath.

Her eyes darted around the room. It was quaint, with wooden walls and flooring and a decorative carpet in the center. Faint light streamed in through a window, accompanied by the warm glow of a candle. Must be early morning, she thought.

Oddly though, the corner across from her seemed to be completely wrapped in shadow, defying the soft sunlight that should have illuminated it. Gem found herself unable to tear her trembling eyes away as the shadowy corner suddenly warped in her vision, the dark matter collecting and solidifying together as a familiar figure materialized before her.

Etho drifted nonchalantly towards her, stopping by the table to eye the mug, something almost disappointed flashing in his expression as he noticed it hadn’t been touched. Gem faintly spotted a stitch in the shoulder of his tunic. He turned his attention to her.

“How’re ya’ holding up?" He asked, his tone both concerned and casual at once. “You took a pretty nasty fall back there! Never seen anything like it, it was crazy.” A small laugh punctuated his last sentence.

She blinked, then blinked again, but found herself unable to erase the image of what she had just seen from behind her eyes. It was the kick she needed to jog her memory though, and she leaped backwards away from him, nearly hitting her head on the wall behind her.

“You… What in void’s name are you!?” She squawked. Etho furrowed his frosted eyebrows quizzically.

“Well, I was hoping maybe you’d be a little bit more appreciative of the setup you’ve got going on here. I even made you a hot cocoa! Iskall told me you guys love that stuff!” There was something genuine in his voice that made Gem calm somewhat, even if his words only added to her bewilderment. She turned back to look at the mug, and slowly reached a hand out to grab it.

Pulling it close to her chest, she spoke, “You made this? For me? Why? I tried to kill you! I did kill you! At least, I think? I’m… still not entirely sure what happened back there.” She stared down into the mug, feeling a weird sense of shame bubble through her. Having the man she’d killed standing right there in front of her, it felt like talking to a ghost. The bounty hunter wasn’t used to having to think about the aftermath of her career beyond what minor property damage could ensue from a struggle, nevermind like this. Her grip on the handle tightened.

“What, this old thing?” Etho asked with another laugh, pulling up his own severed head from the ground next to Gem’s bed. “I left it here for you, since you seemed to really be after it. Figured it could make a nice souvenir from your stay here, you know?” Etho seemed to pick up from Gem’s appalled expression that she did not, in fact, know.

“Okay, okay, uh, well, you can take it with you when you leave if you want.” A pause. “This… is what you’re after, right?” Gem could make out tiny frozen droplets still connected to the head’s neck, suspended in time and ice. Momentarily, she considered being alarmed at the notion that she’d been sleeping soundly next to a severed head, or grilling him on why exactly he thought putting said head in her room was a normal thing to do in the slightest. The thumping pain rattling around in her skull made the decision for her.

“Partially,” she replied curtly, evidently still attempting to win her staring contest with the mug. Finally, she broke the one-sided tension, and dared to take a small sip.

It tasted… cold? No, that wasn't right. The liquid was sweet, if a little watery, and at a comfortably warm temperature. It was more as if the ethos of the mug itself refused to be hot. Like it had reluctantly taken to the liquid, yet refused to be any more than a temporary vessel for its warmth. Or, perhaps even more strangely, as if the liquid itself wasn't quite sure it knew how to be warm.

Despite Gem’s own lukewarm reaction, Etho lit up.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his normally chill and steady voice brightening with excitement. An amused look found its way to Gem’s face at the sudden change.

“It’s nice,” she replied simply. She took another sip, then paused to close her eyes. She swore she could hear a triumphant noise from beside her as she tried to calm her searing nerves. Having the head as proof was good, sure, but the curator had expected — and promised payment for — much more. Gem needed that artefact back. She turned back to face him.

“To be honest, Etho,” She began, “Your head’s not all I’m here for. You don’t just get a bounty on your head for nothing, you know. I’m also here to retrieve that artefact you stole.”

Etho blinked. “The what?”

Now it was Gem’s turn to furrow her brow.

“You know. The amulet of the ancient Sun people? The last surviving of its kind? You took it from a museum just a few days ago.” She tilted her head, not even trying to hide her bafflement. Etho squinted at her. He tapped his fingers on the nightstand beside him thoughtfully.

“Ancient amulet… ancient amulet…” He mused. “Oh! Is that what that shiny gold necklace was? It was just lying around on a shelf at that ‘museum’ place Iskall took me to! I don’t know why nobody else thought to take it, to be honest. Here, check it out!” He tugged at something unseen underneath his mask for a minute, before producing the very artefact Gem had been seeking. He handed it to her casually as her shaky hands returned the mug to its nightstand.

“You’ve been wearing it this whole time!?” She exclaimed, yelping when the item made contact with her skin and reeling backwards at the sudden burst of heat running through her fingertips.

“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t appear too upset at its departure, though Gem couldn't help but notice his lively attitude had faded somewhat. She brushed her thumb over the deep amber pendant, briefly fascinated by the perpetual heat emanating off of it.

“It’s neat, right? I’ve never seen a necklace like it. I wasn’t planning on taking it, at first, but I really wanted to figure out why it made my fingers melt like that.”

“You really are something,” Gem muttered. “But, I’m afraid I’ll have to take this back. A job’s a job.”

He gave her a nod. “Yep, yep, fine by me. Is that all you need?”

“Oh, I have one more thing, actually,” Gem replied, tucking the amulet away safely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want my weapons back.”

⋆⋆⋆

The curator grinned and clasped her hands together as she spotted Gem, a full-looking satchel and small brown bag now decorating her waist alongside her clanking swords and knives. The bounty hunter approached her desk with a matching smile, untying the smaller bag and placing it before the curator.

“I see you’ve returned! Remarkably fast as well. This is?”

“The amulet, back safe and sound without a scratch. Very pretty, might I add. Anyone would be able to see why it’s the prized jewel of your exhibit. And why a rotten thief would want to take it.” Gem placed the satchel next to it.

“And this…?”

“That deplorable thief’s head, just as you asked. I can assure you, he won’t be any more trouble for you now.”

“Excellent. Then, I believe you are deserving of your reward.”

“Yes,” Gem repeated. “Excellent.”

#my writing #boatem knights au #bkau #geminitay #ethoslab #cw murder #cw decapitation #cw blood

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anxious-lee · 3 months

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Not That Kind of Touching || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: ficlet for huskerdust, you know I had to do it

Warnings: brief mention of sex with no details and like 2 swears

Word count: 954

-----

Angel Dust had many impressive skills, but his two favorites were sex, and making out.

And as Husk would soon come to learn, he was very good at both.

The two hazbins were enjoying a peaceful night in, with no morale-building activities, and taking in the silence that they occupied within Husk's quarters. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of Angel kissing Husk gingerly and tenderly, with Husk's back pressed into the wall and Angel towering over him.

The spider's hands were moving everywhere, slowly and surely. Husk had to admit, the man knew how to make a lover feel precious. There was no surge of passion or urgency with their kissing. No showy moves or seductive wiles. Just two souls connecting with each other, and lazily melting into each other.

Angel's face was in Husk's neck, worshipping it. Lost in the throes of his admiration, Angel's hands moved from cupping his lover's face to holding the other's arms above their head. It gave easier access to him that way. Not that Husk minded. He knew Angel would treat him gently.

Another pair of hands popped out and were winding their way down Husk's chest and sliding down his sides.

Husk squirmed only a little, but it was just noticeable enough.

Angel, having seen this reaction many times before, raised his head with a grin.

"You ticklish?" The spider asked, now looking coyly into the cat's eyes.

Nothing Husk could say at this point would make a convincing lie. "A little" he relented quiety.

"I'd say that's more than a little, babe, seein' as how hard ya flinched."

To further prove his point, Angel flexed his fingers into Husk's sides softly.

Husk took in a steady breath. "You always have to... ruin the moment?" he choked, with a slightly embarrassed grimace present on his face, which, unfortunately for him, was directly in front of Angel's.

"Don't worry, sweetie, I'll be delicate~" Angel whispered and continued exploiting this newfound information. With his first pair of hands still keeping Husk's pinned upright, his second set of fingers wiggled up and down the length of his sides at a leisurely pace. He was, after all, not about to disrupt their tender moment. His face returned to his lover's collarbone and went back to its original task.

Husk fought a smile as his lips wanted to open and release a chuckle. The sensation wasn't so intense that he couldn't not-laugh, but intense enough to evoke a snicker now and then.

"You are tense as fuck. C'mon, relax~. I got ya~," Angel encouraged sweetly. His new objective? Get a laugh out of Husk. He moved his hands to crawl over his belly, while two more hands took over brushing his sides.

Husk was really in no position to protect himself, so he surrendered. It was rare times like these when he regretted not wearing a shirt. What started as one or two deep chuckles quickly became quiet laughter. It was all so silly. How quickly an intimate make-out session had turned into him getting tickled was laughable. The tingly touches on his skin were laughable. The fact that Angel was still necking him like nothing was happening was laughable. It was all just so funny. His laughter rose higher as he let himself go, his eyes squeezing shut from just how much mirth was behind them.

It was all worth it. That's all Angel could think. Husk's laugh was happier than he had ever heard it. And he didn't laugh often. But eventually, Angel became enveloped once again in desire for his Husky's lips. He released his hold on the cat's arms and stopped tickling in favor of holding him closer instead. His lips reconnected with Husk's greedily, and Husk found himself doing the same. He wrapped his arms around Angel's back and flipped them both over so that Angel was now against the wall.

Everything that just happened had seemed to be forgotten about, until a few moments later, when Husk suddenly pinned Angel's top two hands above his head with one paw, like Angel had done to him.

The spider instantly panicked and opened his eyes, only to meet Husk's sinister ones.

"Oh, but... you haven't had your turn yet~" Husk drawled with mock sympathy.

Already, Angel was tittering to himself, knowing what scenario he had trapped himself in.

Unlike Angel's hungry method, Husk took his time in tormenting his captive. He wiggled his remaning claws just above, but not yet touching, Angel's armpit. He'd inch it closer and closer, but then pull back at the last second and start again.

This cycle repeated until Angel cried out through giggles, "Would you just doho ihit alreadyhy!"

"Well, since you're askin' for it" Husk purred. He finally lowered his paw onto the skin and scritched at it softly.

Frantic, bubbly sounds filled the room as Angel threw his head back and squirmed under the touch.

This amused Husk, almost incredulously. "How do you make a living selling your body when it's so sensitive?" He laughed.

"Wehehehell my clihients aren't usuhually tickling mehehe, duhuhumbahahass!" Angel retorted.

"I'd watch my mouth if I were you~" Husk uncharacteristicly teased. He quickened the pace of his fingertips.

The reaction was immediate.

"OKAHAHAY OKAHAY ENOHOUGH!" Angel cackled.

Forgivingly, Husk slowed his claws to a stop and released Angel's hands.

Yet, he remained inches away from him.

"How about we call a truce and... get back to what we were doin'?" Husk offered.

"Gladly," Angel agreed. Every one of his wiry limbs wrapped themselves around his lover, and he kissed him with all the breath that he had.

They both slept quite soundly that night, tangled in each other's arms.

-------

Just something to make the wait for the next episodes easier 👍😉

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #lee talks #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickles #lee!husk #ler!husk #lee!angeldust #ler!angeldust #huskerdust tickles

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somnambulic-thing · 12 days

Text

Watershed Moments || part I

Masterlist Part II || ao3

Eddie Munson x Reader || E 18+ [demi!Eddie x 'tomboy'/gender-nonconforming!bi!reader]

childhood best friends to lovers, no Upside Down, canon divergent

Words: 3.8k

Series Summary: Watershed Moment is a term most people use for big events. Such events that mark historical turning points of great significance and shape the course of humanity; events that cause the printing presses of the world to run hot and make it from the front pages of newspapers into history books for the following generations to study. Opening the passenger door of Eddie’s van on a rainy Friday evening is exactly that. You're in love with your best friend. How many of those pivotal moments have there been in the past decade that have led you to this point? And what happens now?

Themes/Warnings for this chapter | pls check Masterlist for general tags: ||fluff, pining, angst, hurt/comfort, implied/non-graphic domestic abuse, child abuse: physical and mental, child neglect, dysfunctional family dynamics||

large parts of the fic will take place in the characters teenage years

A/N: I wrote this almost a year ago then got very precious about it and stopped in fear of fucking it up. I've decided to release it into the world before the layer of dust gets so thick that I can't find my way back to it anymore. Around half of it is already written in various states. This is a queer story at heart, even though you might not find it in explicit terms we'd use today to label and describe things.

Friday the 8th of May 1987

The music announces his arrival.

It always does.

It’s the reason you leave your window ajar whenever you’re expecting him; no matter the time of day, no matter the weather.

The faint notes of shrieking guitars slowly turn into recognizable music as you slip on your shoes and look for your keys. Going by his choice of song, he must be in a good mood and so you descend down the stairs in a hurry to meet him.

He’s picking you up to go see a movie like he had done countless times before.

You hook your fingers under the door handle, the metal smooth from years of doing so, and pull, rousing the familiar creeeeek of the hinges, expecting to get into the car with the boy who had been your best friend for over a decade, and suddenly find yourself staring into the face of the man you love.

Just like that.

There is a dip in the cushion of the passenger seat, perfectly molded to your ass and right there, he had placed a gift for you.

“Surprise,” he says with a smile that melts the sidewalk under your feet, gesturing at the book that’s waiting for you but there is nothing on this planet, or any other, that could bring you to pull your eyes away from his at this very moment.

You see him almost every day, had seen him not quite twenty-four hours ago, had talked to him on the phone this morning and it had been the same as always; he was Eddie.

Your Eddie.

And as you hold on to the door, waiting for the world to stop spinning so violently that you fear it could launch you into outa space, you realize that nothing about that had changed and still nothing was the same.

Just like that.

Eddie tilts his head, one hand still gripping the steering wheel, the other waving.

“Squash calling pumpkin, do you copy?” Eddie says in a deep, silly voice and the sweet sound of your childhood nicknames brings your realization full circle.

You are in love with your best friend.

“A-affirmative…”

“Ah, there you are. Will you get in here now? You’re getting wet.”

Oh, if you only knew.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you climb into your seat, carefully taking the book into your hands like it held the secrets to the universe between its covers. You yank the passenger door close absentmindedly, the slam echoing as loud in your ears as your own heartbeat and you wait for Eddie to complain about it but he doesn’t. Instead, you can sense him looking at you while you stare at the book in your lap.

And that really had been it, right?

What had made the truth about your feelings for Eddie hit you like a load of bricks; it was in the way he looked at you. In his giddy excitement to make you happy, his confidence that he absolutely would because he knew you so well and in the fact that you would look at him the same way if your roles were reversed.

That you do it all the time.

And just like that, it scares the shit out of you.

“H-how…” you start, but fail to find the right question. Your voice sounds brittle to your ears.

But Eddie chuckles, moves in closer and puts his chin on your shoulder, just like he always does. As if his silly little gesture hadn’t just changed both of your lives fundamentally and irrevocably.

“You mean,” he clears his throat and puts on an impersonation of your voice that’s infuriatingly remarkable. “Oh, Eddie, my precious Eddie, how did you get your brilliant and highly skilled hands on the new Stephen King novel that came out just two days ago?” His breath against your neck is warm and you just know that he’s pursing his lips in a silly grin.

“Yeah, that,” you swallow and then you give him what he’s after. A smile. Because no matter how flustered you are, you just can’t help it. “And I don’t sound like that.”

“Oohhh yes, you do,” he croons and the bass in his words vibrates through your bones where it’s already part of your marrow. You want to turn your head and kiss him. “It’s adorable,” he says and sits up, leaning back into his seat.

You huff out a laugh. “Do you compliment yourself in my voice a lot when I’m not around?”

“Something has to get me through the dreadful hours of the day where I have no access to your praise.”

It’s casual when he says things like that, and while Eddie starts the car and pulls into the street, you try to remember if it ever made you feel like combusting before.

Of course it had. All the time.

“Rick had some business in Indianapolis and I asked him to get me a copy,” Eddie explains into the silence, glancing over at you. “Seatbelt, pumpkin.”

“You… you didn’t have to do this…” you say instead of Thank you, Squashboy! instead of You’re the fucking best, Munson! instead of any of those soft things you would have thrown at him without hesitation just ten minutes ago and put on your seatbelt as he ordered, hoping he wouldn’t smell your confusion like the emotional bloodhound he was around you.

But Eddie laughs. “And listen to you whine about it until Hawkins’ dusty ol’ bookstore catches up with the modern world? Yeah, fat chance.”

“It would just have been a few weeks… tops…”

“A few weeks too many of seeing you mope. I’m not strong enough for that shit.”

You open the book on the first page to occupy your hands, which are begging to be buried in Eddie's hair, with something safe but, oh, the endeavor fails horribly because, of course, he left you a note inside and you should have expected it. Your fingertips trace over the familiar flow of Eddie’s handwriting with an infinite tenderness that’s meant for his cheeks.

for my little monster, can't wait for you to read this to me. - your doctor E.

“If you want to,” he adds softly.

I want to whisper every word of it into your mouth.

“This is the second book of the series, remember?… You wouldn’t understand a thing.”

“Incorrect,” he says solemnly, stops the car at a red light and almost jumps into your face with an open, all-teeth smile. “Surprise!”

“You… you read the first book?”

“Correct!” he bites his lip, excitement tugging at his cheeks. He’s so close. You could just lean in to taste him and for a moment you think that maybe he’s waiting for you to do so as he hovers there, big brown eyes roaming your face until a cacophony of horns pulls him away from you. “Fuckers,” he mumbles as he starts the car again and picks up the conversation where he’d left it: “And lo and behold: I liked it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I know, I know… I’ve given you speeches about why King doesn’t do it for me and all but you kept gushing about this Gunslinger book and how different it is and…” Eddie shrugged, “I thought I should give it a chance aaand it turned out you were right about it.”

You’re everything.

How did I miss this?

And what does it mean that I did?

“Hey, uh, are you alright?” he throws several quick glances at you, brows drawn together; all the joy, all the mirth gone.

Just like that.

Don’t you fucking hurt him!

“Why?”

“Why?” Now it’s a full-on frown. “Well, you’re… quiet. Which, you know, is totally fine with me generally, but I just told you, uh, that I read your favorite book and liked it after being a grump about it for months and—”

“Eddie?” A sigh.

“Y-yeah?”

“Wanna skip the movie, go to your place and start this?” you say softly, holding up the book. “Maybe get some snacks on our way?”

No hesitation.

“Hold on!” he cheered and you know that voice and that frantic look over his shoulder and—

“Oh no!” you huff as you scramble to clutch at something. “No nono no…”

—then the U-Turn thumps you against the door while Eddie laughs like he’s fueled on pure adrenaline.

“Fucking hell, Munson, slow down,” you shout over the wild cackling and he does. “If you kill us before I finished that series I’ll whip your ass!”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he says with a grin and your pulse speeds up; eight little words and your rabbit heart races faster than from the prospect of possible death caused by Eddie’s poor impulse control. You watch him in awe as he forces himself to calm down, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, head bopping to their rhythm. “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” you try to sound distraught. “Such fun that you’re taking years off my life every time you do shit like that, you maniac!”

“But I’m giving them back to you by making you laugh. So it doesn’t count.”

***

1976

It was the October of your eleventh Halloween when the Munsons moved into the ground-floor apartment.

You just bought the first pumpkin of the season and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the day drafting out a spooky design to carve into the tough orange flesh.

Impatient to start, you burst through the door and were halfway up the first landing when you saw the skinny lanky boy fumble with a box that looked way too heavy for his frame if the strain of the muscles in his arms was anything to go by.

Spinning around, his eyes were wide and alert, maybe even afraid, before he saw you on the stairs, relaxed a little and turned away to get on with opening the door.

“Here, I’ll help you,” you said, placed your pumpkin on the floor and rushed to his side.

“N-no, t’s alright, I'm… I got it—“ His words were swallowed by a loud thump as the boy swayed, barely saving the box from tumbling to the ground by wedging it between the door and his skinny chest.

“Don’t looks like it,” you quipped, ready to snatch his key to assist when—

“What the fuck are you banging against that door?“

— the door disappeared in a blur and a big angry man appeared in its place. The boy barely caught his balance before the box could slip again.

“Sorry Dad, sorry I didn’t—“

“Inside, Eddie!”

Eddie’s head whipped around to you, face scrunched in worry, his skin had turned a pale grey and you were sure to see the faint yellow remnants of a bruise high up on his cheek.

“Eddie!” he snarled and without another word Eddie pushed past his father, his backlit silhouette vanishing through a door on the left in a small hallway.

“Who are you?” the man almost barked at you.

Refusing to sound afraid, you introduced yourself. “My family lives on the second floor - welcome to the neighborhood, Mister…?”

“Munson,” he said briskly, but less angry and held out a large sweaty hand for you to shake. You did with reluctance. “Polite of you to swing by and say hello but we’re busy here, so if you don’t mind.” And with that, he closed the door.

You didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit.

Well…

“Oh,” your mother said when you told her everything, still heaving from running up the stairs like you were on fire. “But the boy probably just fell off his bike. You know how boys are, honey, don’t you?”

Suddenly, there was an itch in your own scraped knees; somewhat of a guilty sensation that added confusion to the upset.

„I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,“ she added with a thin smile.

And you wanted to believe her, wanted to believe her so badly but your mother hadn’t seen the look in the boy’s - Eddie’s - eyes when you startled him.

Those same eyes were faintly red and a little puffy when you answered the knock at the door half an hour later.

“Hi,” Eddie said in a jolly tone that only increased your confusion. “You forgot your pumpkin.”

“Oh shit!” You hugged the pumpkin to your chest like you were reunited with a friend and glimpsed a first faint preview of that blinding smile you would eventually come to love so much on Eddie’s face. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Your, uhm, father called you that.”

“Right,” he swallowed, smile snuffing out like a candle. “Right.”

There was a silence filled with a thousand questions your mother would deem inappropriate to ask a stranger so you settled for an apology.

“Sorry, if I got you in trouble.”

“What?” Eddie drew his head back, frowning. “No, no. You didn’t, no trouble at all. Dad ’s just— you know, stressed with the moving.”

“Oka—“

“Have to get going now,” he laughed hollowly and backed away, “so much left to do.”

“See you around, Eddie,” you could only call after him as he hurried down the stairs, his reply echoing back up to you.

“See you around, pumpkin.”

But you didn’t see Eddie around much. Not at home and not at school either. He was a year above your grade - you figured that out soon enough - but it almost seemed like he was skipping about half the week on a regular basis. The few times you met him sneaking through the house like a shy cat, he was covered in grease or paint, carrying himself like a man who came home at the end of a fifty-hour workweek. He never talked much, never asked for your name, always called you Pumpkin.

You, however, saw a lot of Mr Munson; going in and out the building several times a day, often in the company of equally grim-looking men, sometimes with a woman with big brown eyes which gave her away as Eddie’s mother even before she introduced herself to you. She had wonderful long brown hair and you asked yourself if Eddie’s buzzed scalp would sprout in this deep wavy brown or his father’s dirty blond if he was to let it grow out.

You also heard Mr Munson. A lot. Especially at night, and a few weeks in, your parents started to doubt that Eddie and his mother were simply on the clumsy side.

Halloween finally arrived and you proudly placed your final piece of fine pumpkin craftsmanship out the front door, waiting for your father to come down to light the candles like you did every year.

“Hey, Wednesday.”

You turned towards the open door and Eddie slowly peeled out of the shadows of the hallway, hands behind his back and a careful smile on his face. His voice was soft and timid. The next time you would hear him talk, it had already started to break.

“Eddie,” you smiled and tilted your head. “You watch the Addams Family?”

“Duh,” he said and fully stepped into the beam of light falling into the hallway. “Looks, uh, nice… the costume, I mean… self-made?”

“Yeah, my mother helped me make it. What are you going as?”

One hand left his back as he bowed his head and scratched his scalp. “M’ not… allowed to. Dad thinks it’s… a waste of time… and silly.”

“Shit,” you mumbled, an awkward silence fell between you. “Uhm, what would you choose? If you were allowed?”

“Huh?” his face lit up slightly as he entertained the thought. “Frodo, I think.”

“Who’s that?”

“Who’s… who’s Frodo?” The disbelieve in his eyes was comical, almost theatric. “That part of your Wednesday act? Making cruel jokes and shit?”

“What are you talking about?” you chuckled and raised your hands to the sky in an equal amount of theatrics.

“The Lord of The Rings? Never heard of that?”

“Oh, yeah, but never read it or anything... my mom thinks it’s not appropriate… for a girl.”

“Shit,” he huffed. “And I thought my life was sad…” And what was meant as a joke, darkened his face like an eclipse, pulled his gaze away from you and into the distance before he shook his head to chase it away. “I, uhm, was wondering… I made a thing? For, uh… you know?” he pointed his chin at the decorations lined up beside the doorstep.

“Oh!” you called out in excitement. “That’s what you‘re keeping behind your back?”

“Uh, yeah…” he pinched his eyes shut. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“No,” you said and Eddie cracked open one terrified eye. “If it’s funny, I’ll laugh! You’ll just have to join me…”

“Uhm, uuh…”

“Let’s seeeee!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus…” Eddie took a deep breath and revealed his work with slightly trembling hands you chose to ignore for his sake. It was a butternut squash and Eddie had carved a swarm of bats into the surface.

“Oh!” you said again but this time in awe.

“I know it’s not… good or anything, not like yours and I think I got the wrong kind of, uh, pumpkin because, like… you can’t get a candle in there— stupid thing ‘s like solid fucking concrete and I get it when you don’t want it out here—“

“Are you insane? This is so good!” you stopped him and snatched the squash from his hands.

“Wait, really?”

“Uh-hn,” you turned it around to take in every little last bat. “Must have taken you forever… butternut squash really is tough!”

“That’s what it’s called?” he said, rubbing the back of his head, a deep blush tinting his whole face bright red. “Had no idea…”

You stepped to the side, already busy figuring out how to rearrange the display to integrate the squash. “We just pick one out together next year… if you want. I can show you the right ones.”

“Nah, don’t want to bother you… it’s fine.”

Hunkering on the ground, your white thighs forgotten, you paused and looked up at Eddie in genuine confusion. “Why would you bother me?”

“I… don’t… dunno…”

The squash was in the perfect place and you stood up, dusted off your hands on the back of your black skirt and put a careful hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s cool, Squashboy, really.”

“I…” Eddie’s face went through a plethora of emotions in seconds but he settled on a silly grin. “Did you just call me, Squashboy?”

“Would you prefer your Squashness? Or… uhmm… Lord of the Squash?— t’s a bit of a mouth full but if you insist…”

“Shut up,” Eddie threw his head back and laughed; it was loud and wild and echoed through the staircase. “That’s sooo stupid.”

There were footsteps coming from inside as someone was descending the stairs and next to you, Eddie turned into cold hard stone.

“T’s probably just my dad,” you tried to comfort him, sure you knew what this meant by now. “He’s coming to light the candles.”

The steps grew louder and Eddie’s skin was this awful shade of grey again.

“Eddie? Are you o—“

“I have to go,” he gritted out through his teeth, turned and hurried down the street in jerky steps.

“Hey honey,” your father said, appearing in the doorframe but you were still looking after the skinny boy in the too-big clothes rushing down the street, a thick knot in your chest. “Is that the Munson boy?” your father’s voice was casual, but not casual enough.

You looked up into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?… Oh, nothing. Just got lost in thought for a second.” He finally looked down at you again, clapping his hands together. “I’m here to light some candles.”

What usually was one of your favorite rituals on Halloween was clouded by that awful shadow that kept creeping over Eddie’s face again and again. You decided to share your loot of candy with him when you came back; it wasn’t much but it was something. You’d just have to wait until Mr M was out of the house or whatever, but you could think about that later.

But when you came back home, Eddie was gone.

Nobody was telling you anything but after one week of lurking around adults when they didn’t pay attention gave you enough to piece it together.

There had been a fight. A bad fight and your father finally called the police. It took two deputies to get Mr Munson out of the house and into the back of a police car. Deputy Hopper gave him a good kick in the back of his knee to help him the rest of the way. Nobody on the block had seen that occur though, should anybody come around to ask. When the dust had settled down a little, Mrs Munson was nowhere to be found, so Deputy Hopper came back to collect Eddie.

The Munson’s rent had been paid for all through the next week and in the middle of that week, you saw a tall man whose features reminded you of Mr Munson carrying a big box out of the front door of your building. He crammed it into the back of a car already filled with other stuff and drove away before you could take a look at the front to see if Eddie was on board.

A few days later, men in blue overalls came to clear the rest of the ground-floor apartment. You lingered on the first-floor landing, observing a family’s life getting ripped out of this house like a rotten tooth from a jaw. When the blue men went outside for a smoke, you slipped inside. There wasn’t much left of what made a home a home; a potted plant, some kitchenware and— a breeze moved the curtains in the main room ever so slightly but enough for you to spot a little figurine hidden in the far corner of the windowsill. A small man with a knobbly nose and dirty feet.

You took it home with you.

And when one day you saw the tall man who looked a little like Mr. Munson from your window, you almost jumped in front of his car to make sure Frodo finally made it back to Eddie. That was what the other Mr. Munson called the little guy.

“I can’t believe it,” Eddie’s uncle rasped, “been lookin’ for this guy all over town… thought the clean-up crew dropped it off at some thrift store or church with the other stuff or somethin’. Thought he was gone for good.”

“Tell Eddie I said hi,” you beamed. “And that I saved him some candy.”

general taglist:

@bettyfrommars @dr-aculaaa @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @raccoonboywrites @jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlak @moonbeamsandmayhem @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie @chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @thecapricunt1616 @allthingsjoeq

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #my writing #watershed moments #Eddie Munson Angst #Eddie Munson Fluff

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aemondsladywife · 1 year

Text

His Lady Wife : Alternative Ending I

aemond x reader

an alternative ending to 'His Lady Wife' where y/n survives and aemond suffers the consequences of his actions.

a/n: its 3am in the uk rn and i've made you guys wait too long! i am extremely sorry this took so long to write!! i won't even lie, its not the best, i really struggled w these alternative endings, feedback and comments are appreciated as always, my inboxes are always open for requests!! also if you want to be on my permanent aemond taglist, please comment! btw there are more alt endings on its way!

genre: angst

after hours and hours of intense labour, you finally gave birth to a premature baby girl. you were exhausted, but seeing your precious baby girl gave you all the strength you needed in the world. as you cradled your tiny, precious baby girl, your 'husband' came in, with guilt etched all over his face.

"my wife I-"

his eyes fell to his tiny baby girl. his eyes began to water as he spoke,

"is that my daughter?"

you looked at him with cold eyes, your blood was boiling as you placed a protective arm around the daughter you had just birthed.

"no she is no mans daughter. she is mine. only mine. no fucking guards and definetely not yours. she has your white hair and violet eyes but it was not you who carried her 8 months in a chamber fit for a criminal. it wasn't you who had to endure severe pains for the past 8 moons. it wasn't you who pushed and pushed for 9 hours straight. that was all me. you left her mother to die and now you expect to be her father? if you want a baby so bad carry on fucking that whore of yours, you're nearly there!"

aemond looked at his wife with wide eyes. he didn't know what to say or where to begin. her anger was justified. he was about to step closer and speak to his wife when he was interrupted by a maester.

"my prince, may I speak to you in private."

aemond nodded to the maester, with tears of guilt and pain in his eyes as he walked out of the room with him.

"my prince. the princesses labours were... horrific, to put it mildly. as she was not given any support during her tulmtuous pregnancy, her labors were worse than we had ever seen, it is a miracle that she and the babe are alive. it was a whole moon early, she lost litres of blood, the baby was upside down and had to be physically twisted and even now, both mother and wife are severly unwell. please do not take offence my prince... but it is best you give the princess and the babe their space. any further stress could even cause a heart attack."

aemond felt sick to his stomach as he realised what he had put his wife and daughter through, all because he let his self doubt and insecurities get the better of him.

he nods and complies to the maesters words. what else could he do other than wait? he caused enough damage as it is.

weeks go by and aemond can't even catch a glimpse of either his wife or daughter. his heart is overtaken by remorse and longing. he knew this was all his fault, but he desperately wanted to see his baby and his wife who he treated so terribly.

aemond took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his estranged wife's chambers, he has flowers and a dragon plushie in his hands.

you open the door, with your daughter in your arms, not expecting to see aemond at the door.

"husband."

aemond has a sorrowful, sad smile on his face.

"my wife, i know my actions are much beyond forgiveness, i will live the rest of my life in regret for my disgusting actions... but please, give me a chance to redeem myself. i will do anything and everything my love. i have not even held my own daughter. please. i beg you, my lady. let me hold my little girl."

aemond begged you with tears in his eyes. he was desperate. he looked at his tiny daughter in your arms and yearned to hold her. all he wanted was to be a good father and husband.

"i remember feeling this desperate too..."

your words give him a slight bit of hope. he hopes that you pity him enough to give him a chance.

"i felt this desperate when i begged of you to let me go to my fathers and recieve treatment for my pregnancy complications. and what did you do. refuse. and what did i have to do? suffer in silence. now you will do the same."

aemond's entire being became filled with guilt and resentment towards himself, he would do anything for a moment with his wife and daughter.

"please my wife. please. i have not been able to eat or sleep knowing the pain i caused you and our daughter."

you looked back at him with no sympathy and chuckled when you spoke.

"i remember that feeling all too well. i felt the same when you restricted me to a chamber with mouldy walls and food that wouldn't feed a child let alone a woman carrying a child herself"

you were shutting the door on him when he stopped it. he was so desperate, he was begging you with tears in his eyes.

"please. my lady. my lady wife i know my apologies are worthless but at least give this to my sweet girl."

he holds out the little stuffed dragon toy, praying to the gods you would accept it.

"we do not accept gifts from strangers. especially ones who once had ill intentions for us."

with that, you shut the door and left aemond in a state of great despair. in one swoop, he lost his wife and only child. his dreams of being a father had been crushed by his own hand.

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#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd season 1 #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond stannies #aemond fic #aemond oneshot #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond angst #aemond x you #aemond targaryen fic #hotd aemond #aemond imagine

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a-case-of-attachment · 2 months

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The Lamb & The Serpent

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, male masturbation, mentions of depression, virgin reader, awkwardness, Lucifer being awkward, fluff, misunderstandings, honestly 90% of this is about sex.

Please click -> here <- to read on AO3

Angel Dust was right, the two of you do become sickeningly lovey dovey once your relationship is made official. Well as official as it can be with neither of you wanting the entirety of Hell knowing just yet. You don’t want the attention it would bring, and Lucifer doesn’t want to make you a target for those looking to gain power by either trying to worm their way into your life or hurting you. But hey, the important people knew, and Lucifer wasn’t above rubbing his happiness in their faces.

He doesn’t waist a single opportunity to tell just about anyone how adorable and beautiful you are, often staring dreamily at you on the other side of the room as he describes everything he likes about you, from how kind and compassionate you are to how your eyes light up when you smile. He knows that people are getting annoyed with him, but he doesn’t care, as enamoured with you as he is. Charlie seems to be the only one that still thinks it’s sweet how obviously smitten he is with you but he can tell that even she’s starting to get a bit bored of hearing him wax poetry about you, comparing you to sunshine and rainbows and all sorts of things that he hasn’t actually seen in centuries now. He couldn’t help himself though and it wasn’t like he didn’t say the same things to you directly, delighting in the blush it always got him.

Now that you and Lucifer were a thing he hadn’t stop with the gifts and chivalry. He liked opening doors for you or pulling out your chair at the dinner table, even offering you his arm when walking down the street. Not that it happened all that often with the two of you trying to keep a low profile but when it did Lucifer couldn’t help but beam, feeling like the luckiest man in Hell to have you on his arm. The gift giving had slowed down though, Charlie having told Lucifer that “gifts lose there meaning if they are given all the time. They won’t be so special any more if it becomes expected.” She had been right of course so Lucifer had mad a conscious effort to tone it down, now only presenting you with things that he truly thought would mean something to you instead of every little knickknack and trinket he came across that made him think of you.

You were more subtle in your affections than him. You weren’t one to go around boasting about how lucky you were to have snagged the big boss himself, but you did have a lovely habit of mentioning him a lot in conversations and the best part was you didn’t even seem to know you were doing it. There was a lot of Lucifer said this and Lucifer did that, something that irritated the other residents of the hotel, but Lucifer found absolutely delightful when he found out. He liked the idea that you thought about him as much as he did you and that even when he wasn’t there you couldn’t help but bring him up in conversation. It satisfied a part of him that practically purred at the prospect of people knowing you were his. The same part that wanted to growl and bare its teeth when he would see someone else laying their hands on you.

In fact, he had almost cut off Husks hand when he had caught the demon with his paws on your shoulders and leaning in far too close for Lucifers liking. The only thing that had calmed him down had been your gentle touch and soothing words, promising that “we were just talking my king nothing more. Trust me when I say I’m not the sinner he’s interested in.” It helped that the reassurance came with kisses, your lips soft but sure against his as you cupped his check like he was made of porcelain. No one treated him as gently as you did, like he was something precious to be protected and cherished. It made his heart flutter, desperate for your gentle and loving touch even as it ached with the knowledge that he didn’t deserve it.

Lucifer is deliriously happy, with a bounce in his step and a constant smile on his face. It was perfect, well as perfect as things could be considering they were in Hell, and you were dead but there was just one teeny tiny insignificant little problem. Not even a problem really just a small detail that didn’t mean anything. It was just Lucifer being silly really. He could go without, yes he could, no problem. Well except it was a problem because it was getting in the way of things, both with you and with his duties. Lucifer was managing though, at least he would be if that blasted spider stopped bringing his happy little gloating sessions to an abrupt end by asking “but have ya screwed her yet your majesty?”

The answer to that crude and somewhat malicious question was no, Lucifer had not yet had the pleasure of taking you to bed and the tacky little spider knew that, as did the rest of hotels guest thanks to that big mouthed harlot. Not that Lucifer was in a rush for your relationship to progress that way. He was enjoying spending time with you and really getting to know you. The two of you were taking things slow, Lucifer conscious of the fact that you had nowhere near the amount of experience he did and you seemingly content to just work up to it. Slowly. But that was perfectly acceptable, and Lucifer was not about to press you for something you clearly weren’t read for. That being said though, it had been months since yours and Lucifers little roof top date and it was getting harder and harder to reign himself in, always wanting to press that little bit harder when you exchange kisses or let his hand wander when he got to touch you.

Despite how much he wanted to deny it, his desire for you was becoming a serious problem, Lucifer often having to excuse himself because he couldn’t handle how close you had been. How your hands glided through his hair and down his back or how sweet your lips tasted against his. Far too many times he had teleported home, bracing himself against his work bench or door or just the nearest hard surface and taken things into his own hands. It always felt good in the moment, the rush of relief as his mind got lost in the possibilities of you and him. He desperately wanted to know how you tasted, how your naked body felt against his, where all the little spots were on your body that had you gasping and moaning and withering beneath him as he took you to new hights. Lucifer wanted to know if you preferred being above or below him, if your whispered words of adoration sounded just as sweet when he was buried inside of you and if afterwards you would want to be the big or little spoon. It was a lot of want, Lucifer being consumed by it all in the moment until his pleasure peaked and sweet relief washed over him. It never lasted though, shame and guilt consuming him quickly and leaving him regretful of his lack of control. You were so sweet, so innocent and here Lucifer was reducing you down to nothing but a perverted fantasy that didn’t even compare to the reality of you.

The days afterwards he would always be a little withdrawn, unable to face looking at you without the well of guilt bubbling up and making him feel sick. You were always worried about him and Lucifer hated himself for making you feel that way but you were a kind and understanding soul, assuming he was just having one of his bad days and giving him the space he needed whilst letting him know you would always be there if he needed anything. That just made him feel even worse because here you are being supportive and caring thinking he was going through something when in fact Lucifer was having a breakdown because he wanted to have sex with you when he should be concentrating on the heaven issue and making the hotel work or you know, his job as King of Hell.

That often leads to Lucifer getting his act together, giving himself a stern talking to and swearing not to do it again. It’s a lie, a promise he knows he will not be able to keep. Sure he might be able to for a week or so, might be content to just shower you in affection and kisses but then something will happen, maybe you’ll press a little closer when he hugs you or your teeth will just catch his lip as you pull away from a kiss and Lucifer will be right back at the start again, hungering for something that he wasn’t sure he would ever get.

It was frustrating in a way that Lucifer had never had to deal with before, leaving him feeling like he was always on the back foot when it came to you. He was well aware that all his problems would be solved with a conversation with you and he had tried on several occasions but it was difficult to articulate himself when it came to these sorts of things and he couldn’t think of a way to ask you if you wanted to fuck any time soon, well, without just asking if you wanted to fuck any time soon. It just sounds so crass, so insensitive, like that was all Lucifer wanted from you when it really wasn’t. He would be happy just having you by his side, his days filled with kisses and devotions of love. He just, he needs to know if that’s all it’s going to be though so he can deal with his desires appropriately and not possibly ruin your relationship by being a complete scoundrel.

It all comes to a head when Lucifer practically throws you through his parlour wall.

It’s one of the days where you’ve snuck away from the hotel to spend the day with him in his home, the two of you content to just exist in the same space together. Lucifer had brought his latest project down from his work room, tinkering away with the thing whilst you snuggle in the armchair, book in hand and enjoying the roaring fire he had gotten going for you in the hearth. It’s peaceful, the two of you exchanging the odd word here and there but not about anything important or anything that would pull you away from your individual tasks. Lucifer hadn’t asked what you were reading, hadn’t even glanced at the cover when you had placed your book down on the coffee table whilst you disappeared to make tea. If he had Lucifer would have noticed the stereotypical photo of a shirtless man with a woman all in white in his arms, the two of them gazing passionately into one another’s eyes as his fingers pulled down the collar of her dress to expose the swell of her breasts. Maybe if he had looked he would have known the kinds of things you were filling your head with. Maybe he might have been able to prepare himself for your sudden attack.

Lucifer doesn’t notice the looks you keep shooting him over the top of your book or the blush on your cheeks as you glanced down at the pages and then back to him. In fact, Lucifer was so engrossed in trying to get his little ducky to fly that he didn’t even notice you had moved until the sofa dipped next to him. It’s a shock and Lucifer jolts slightly, fumbling with the duck in his hands and almost sending it flying across the room if it hadn’t been for you grabbing hold of it before it could go to far. He laughs nervously, thanking you for the help as he holds out his hand expectantly for his latest creation. Except you don’t give it back, instead placing it down on the coffee table with a little pat on its head before looking back at him. Lucifer is confused, even more so when you turn to face him fully, taking a deep breath before looking him in the eyes and asking “can I kiss you?”

Lucifer is taken aback by your question, especially when you had never asked before. You look at him hopefully though, bottom lip caught between your teeth and a rosy hue to your cheeks, clearly embarrassed by your own question. It’s ridiculously adorable and Lucifer finds himself unable to deny you this request, not that he would want too anyway. With a fond smile Lucifer took your hand between his, insisting that he would “like nothing more than to feel your lips against mine.” Your eyes practically light up with his words, a wide and excited smile spreading across your face. He had all of a handful of seconds to admire how beautifully happy you look at the prospect of kissing him before your leaning in, eyelids fluttering closed as you tilt your head towards him.

Kissing you is as addictive as everything else about you, Lucifer always hungry for more as soon as your lips brush his. Your lips are soft against his, slightly parted as if tempting him to plunge his tongue between them and deepen the kiss into something more suggestive. Lucifer resists the temptation though, keeping his own kisses light and tender as he cups your cheek with his free hand. He doesn’t expect the small whine you make, his rhythm faltering slightly because he can’t decide if you sound pained, desperate, frustrated or a mix of all three. He doesn’t get the chance to really think about it though because in the next second your tongue is running across his lips, prodding at the seem and seeking permission to enter.

A couple of things happen all at once. Firstly, Lucifer gasps, his lips parting enough for your tongue to slip between them and into his mouth. Secondly, in one seamless move you go from sitting next to him to straddling him, your knees pressing against his sides and arms draped across his shoulders. The new position has you above him, Lucifer having to tilt his head back to keep his lips on yours and his hands frantically scrambling to find purchase on your hips. One of your hands slips into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp slightly and Lucifer can’t help but moan, your hungry mouth swallowing the sound.

Lucifers control snaps right about then, losing himself in the kiss as he presses back just as hard and desperate. His tongue surges up to meet yours, curling around it and sucking gently before it’s pushing you back and forcing its way into your mouth. He feels you shudder in his hold, your grip on his hair tightening as you moan wantonly around his tongue. Lucifers grip tightens on your waist to the point that it must be painful, his nails digging in as he drags you down against him, desperate to have you as close as possible. It’s then that Lucifer realises that he’s hard, his straining member rubbing against your core as he pulls you closer, your breath hitching at the friction.

It’s just a second, a thought flashing through his mind before he’s even finished grinding up against you. It’s just, it would be so easy to have you here and now, to rip your trousers in half and push your panties aside so he can slide into you and have you bouncing in his lap within seconds, moaning and gasping even as he shoved his tongue so far down your throat it was the only thing you could taste. Lucifers fingers twitch, his thumbs pressing down on your pelvis and nails scratching along the thin fabric that kept your most intimate parts hidden from him. It would be so easy, so so easy to just press a little hard, dig his nails in and rip through the fabric. Just a few quick movements and then sweet relief as he finally sunk into your warm tight virgin cunt. It’s just a thought, there and gone within a second but it’s enough to bring Lucifer to a screeching halt, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

Lucifer panics and what he does next is definitely not one of his proudest moments in life because instead of stopping and apologising like a normal person would he stands up suddenly and practically throws you off him, not noticing your startled cry as you cash down onto the coffee table. He screams something about an “important thing, MEETING! I completely forgot about. Yep meeting, better get going, don’t want to be late,” before teleporting himself out of the room and to his locked bedroom. His movements are frantic as he yanks his trousers open, bracing himself against one of the posts on his bed as he shoved his other hand down into his underwear. It’s quick, full of desperation as he remembers how you had felt above him, against him. All those sweet little sounds fuelling his depraved fantasy of if he hadn’t stopped, if he had let his dark desires take over and ruined you for anyone else right there on his sofa in the middle of his parlour. He muffled his moans and cries of your name against his arm, biting down on the bunched up fabric of his shirt as his pleasure peaks and spills over his fingers, all hot and sticky and so fucking good. Until it’s not.

As the high of release fades Lucifer is left feeling sick, his stomach churning at what he had just done. He feels disgusted with himself, the feel of his rapidly cooling cum on his hand making his skin crawl. Lucifer teleports to his bathroom, stripping himself down till he’s naked and steps under the burning hot spray of his shower. His skin starts to turn pink instantly, but Lucifer doesn’t care, reaching for his soap and scrubbing at his skin till it feels raw and tender. It doesn’t help, Lucifer still able to feel you on him, the way your body had slotted so perfectly against his, how your hands had curled round his neck and slipped into his hair, even how it had felt to press himself against you most intimate area. Lucifer sobs pathetically, sinking down onto the floor and hugging his legs close to his chest. He thinks he hears you calling his name, your voice muffled through the thick door and the steady pounding of the water. He ignores you, convinced that he had imagined it, his mind playing a cruel trick on him in a moment of weakness.

What had he done? You must think him disgusting now after he had violated your trust like that. All you had wanted from him was a kiss, that’s it but Lucifer had taken it too far, giving into his own desires and taking from you something you hadn’t been looking to give. Then he had just dumped you off of him, leaving you there whilst he ran away like the scarred pathetic mess he was. Oh heavens above, he had LEFT YOU THERE! Lucifer is quick to scramble out the shower when he realises his mistake, barely even drying himself before franticly pulling on his trousers and shit, buttoning the thing up haphazardly as he ran from the room barefooted, his wet feet slipping on the wood of the stairs in his haste to get back to you. He practically skids into the parlour, tripping over his feet as he calls out your name, an apology already tumbling from his mouth in a desperate rush to fix what he had done but it dies quickly, Lucifers words trailing off as he finds the room empty.

Lucifer whines pathetically, hand clutching at his chest in an attempt to ease the sharp sting of regret and loss. Of course you would leave, how could he have been so stupid to think you would stick around after his behaviour. Trying not to cry Lucifer drops back down onto the sofa, head in his hands and hair dripping water onto the floor. He’s embarrassed by his behaviour, more than that though he’s ashamed of himself and the way he’s treated you. You deserve better than a sloppy make out session and desperate grinding on his sofa and you definitely deserved better than him just upping and leaving you like some kind of cheap fling. He needs to apologise to you at the very least, should grovel at your feet for forgiveness actually because heaven knows that he didn’t deserve it.

Sighing Lucifer slumped back into the chair, his head tipped back so he can stare at the ceiling. Maybe it was time he got help? Clearly he needed it if he couldn’t keep himself from turning a simple make out session into him accosting you like some sort of sex obsessed degenerate. Unfortunately there was only one person he knew of who would be suited to help him with his sex problem and as much as Lucifer wanted to get his bad behaviour nipped in the bud before it became a much bigger issue he was in fact not looking forward to the conversation he would need to have to do so.

Asmodeus had been surprised to see him that was for sure, but he had cleared his schedule, ushering Lucifer into his office and making sure his assistant knew not to bother them for any reason, apart for bring them the tea he had ordered of course. It had been awkward at first, full of small talk about Lucifers family and life in their respected rings. It was uncomfortable but Lucifer was still thankful for the easy start to the conversation but the longer it went on the more fidgety he became, his knee bouncing with nerves and fingers tapping on the side of his cup in a sporadic rhythm that even had Lucifer wincing. It didn’t take long after that for Asmodeus to set his own cup down and ask Lucifer “3” Taking a deep breath Lucifer placed his cup back on the table before sinking back into his chair, finally able to still his jittery body as he crossed one leg over the other, his arms resting on the arm rest and trying not to claw at the wood.

In order for him to get anything useful out of this Lucifer had to tell Asmodeus everything. Well maybe not everything but he needed to know what exactly had happened for Lucifers issue to be considered a problem that he couldn’t deal with on his own. That was the difficult part though because how did Lucifer tell the embodiment of sin that he was so in love with a sinner that he wanted help being less horny about it. Not the easiest subject to broach on a normal day but less so today considering what had happened only a few hours ago on his couch.

He swallows nervously, wetting his lips and looking anywhere but at the man sat opposite him. He struggles to find the right words, mind coming up blank when he tries to think how best to explain his current situation. He really should have prepared this before he came down here, but he had barely taken the time to get dressed properly let alone formulate a full blown speech on why he needed the demons help. Unfortunately, in these situations Lucifer tended to babble a bit and now was no different, Lucifer simply blurting out that he was “seeing someone, who’s not my wife. EX-WIFE! Because she left me and now we’re not married. HAHAHA! That’s why I’m seeing someone now. Yes I am. A lovely someone, person, WOMAN! She’s funny and kind and Charlie loves her, so that’s a-maz-ing. But um, we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now and well, you see it’s um been a bit difficult. NOT the relationship. That’s perfect. She’s perfect but erm ugh…” Lucifer stumbled over his words, his explanation all over the place and often going off in weird directions before he managed to get somewhat back on track.

It doesn’t get any better, though Asmodeus listens to his ramblings, clearly taking it in though Lucifer has no clue how he’s making any sense of what’s being said. Lucifer knows he doesn’t explain himself very well, even makes it sound like he has the complete opposite problem to what he actually does and has to scramble to correct himself because Lucifer doesn’t “have an issue with you know, getting it up. Quite the opposite in fact. If she so much as looks at me it’s like hello! But she’s…she’s not…she’s never.” Lucifer fumbled over his words, unable to really express his issue despite being here to do just that. It was stupid really, Lucifer knows that but when he really thinks about why he has such an issue with being with you physically it all boils down to the fact that Lucifer would be your first lover and he was terrified of messing it up and hurting you.

Lilith had been Lucifers first, but he hadn’t been hers, Adam having staked that claim before Lucifer had even set eyes on his future wife. Her encounters with the first man had been rather disappointing and as a result the two of them had been given the opportunity to learn each other’s preferences together though Lilith had most definitely been the one to lead in the early days of their relationship, teaching Lucifer the best ways to please her. There hadn’t been anyone else apart from that one time with Eve but that had been done with Lilith’s blessing and the mother of humanity hadn’t been exactly virtuous at the time either. The point was that Lucifer had never been anyone’s first and even though he has eons of experience he still feels ill-equipped to be given such a precious gift.

Lucifer wanted your first time to be special, like world altering seeing fireworks special and he wasn’t sure how to do that when he had spent eons being the one being led, perfecting his skills to please one person in particular. You weren’t Lilith and Lucifer didn’t want to treat you like you were her, but he had no clue how he was supposed to make your first time together as spectacular as he wanted it to be without doing at least some of the things Lilith had enjoyed so much. He’s being ridiculous, Lucifer knows that but it’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, especially someone struggling to keep their seemingly ever grown sex drive under wraps long enough to actually figure out what to do.

Sighing, Lucifers dragged a hand down his face and sunk down further into the chair. He needed to be honest if he expected Asmodeus to be able to offer any sort of advice or potion that would help with his problem. It’s embarrassing, even hurts his pride a little bit but Lucifer manages to get it out without sounding like a complete lunatic. “She’s never been with anyone before, and I don’t want to rush her into something she isn’t ready for because I’m too horny to control myself around her. I just need something, anything to help take the edge off, just until she’s ready.” Once it’s out there Lucifer feels a little lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It leaves him feeling hopeful, like there might be a light at the end of it all, a light that's quickly extinguished when Asmodeus finally speaks after what feels like hours.

No. Asmodeus had said no. Not ‘I’m sorry old pal but nothing like that exists’ or ‘sorry my friend but I can’t do what you ask’. He had straight up said no, to him, to Lucifer, to the King of all Hell including this ring and all the ones beyond. This was getting a habit, people telling him no and Lucifer wasn’t too keen on the trend it was setting. Before Lucifer could demand to know what he meant by no, Asmodeus was talking, explaining that “there is nothing I can give you that will be of help to you but what I do prescribe is that you talk to her Lucifer, because from what you have just told me it seems quite obvious you’re not the only one feeling the physical effects of your love for one another.” Lucifer stares at his friend in confusion, brows drawn down and a frown firmly in place.

Asmodeus thought it was obvious that Lucifers physical need for you wasn’t one sided. That he was “so hung up on the fact that she’s never been with anyone before that you’re completely missing all the signs she’s giving that prove she’s ready for more.” That can’t be right, can it? Lucifer was sure he would know if you had been trying to seduce him. He wasn’t that dense. Was he? It left him more confused than he had been when he had arrived in lust, mind scrambling to replay every moment he had spent with you in case he had missed something. Asmodeus chuckles at Lucifers silence, gently guiding him to the door and urging him to “go home and think about it Luci, you’ll be surprised by what you learn.”

Lucifer had done just that, not paying attention to the whispers of the imps and lesser demons that he passed. He had a lot on his mind, a lot of things that needed his upmost attention because he needed to know of what Asmodeus had said was true and Lucifer really had been brushing off every attempt you had been making to seduce him. He went all the way back to the first few weeks after the two of you had officially started dating, remembering fondly how every kiss had been chase and every touch had you blushing the most delectable shade of red.

It must have been about three weeks after your rooftop date when the first incident had happened, Lucifer getting so caught up in you that he failed to notice what he was doing until you let out a started yelp, pulling away from him and almost falling off the edge of table you were sat on. Lucifer didn’t remember picking you up to place on the side table down one of the hotels many corridors, nor does he remember slotting himself between your legs and deepening the kiss beyond anything you had shared before. Apparently, he had done that and more though because as he had followed your wide eyed look of shock Lucifer had become hyper aware of his erection staring against his zipper and how he had pushed himself tight against your core, letting you feel every inch of him.

Embarrassment had been the first emotion to register, Lucifer jumping away from you and pressing himself against the opposite wall. He had apologised, rambling out some nonsense about work before dashing off to his apple tower and trying to avoid any of the other souls that may be lurking in the shadows. When he was finally safely locked away in his rooms Lucifer had berated himself for such crass behaviour, but it didn’t matter how often he called himself disgusting, pig, pervert or scoundrel it didn’t chase away the feeling of you against him. The way your hands had tightened on his shoulders when he had first slipped his tongue inside your mouth, or how you had wrapped your legs around him when he slid his hands under your ass and urged you up. And it especially couldn’t erase the way he had slotted so perfectly against you, able to feel your warmth even through two layers of fabric. That day was the first time he had gotten himself off to thoughts of you, gasping and moaning into his pillows like the pathetic mess he was, the endless possibilities of what if playing through his mind. He had felt so ashamed afterwards, like he had violated you somehow. It hadn’t sat well with him, and Lucifer had promised himself that he would do better, be better going forward.

From then on Lucifer had been hyper aware of his desire for you as well as being unable to forget the way you had stared down at his erection in a mixture of surprise and horror. Had it been horror though? Lucifer had been convinced at the time that you had been disgusted and put off by his obvious arousal but now he was really thinking about he wasn’t so sure. You had been surprised, that he was certain of but if he was remembering correctly it had been more like curiosity than horror. How had he gotten it so wrong? Lucifer had been convinced that you hadn’t wanted that from him, at least not yet anyway, put off by his experience and rather insistent desire for more. He had thought he would be rushing you into something you weren’t ready for, fixating on the fact that you had never been with another so you wouldn’t know what all your little touches and hooded looks did to him. But you did know, had been doing it on purpose all these months if Asmodeus was to be believed and like the complete idiot that he was Lucifer had just brushed them all off as innocent little gestures that were sent to test his resolve.

All those gentle touches that had lingered a little to long, the slightly suggestive words whispered in his ear, the kisses that were often followed by a nip to his lip, the posses that looked like somewhat innocent versions of Angel Dusts, the boldness of you crawling into his lap and taking control of a kiss that hat left Lucifer breathless. There were so many things Lucifer had missed or glossed over, his own fears about doing right by you making him blind to what you were desperately trying to offer him. He was an idiot, a truly spectacular dimwit who had royally screwed himself over and all because he had been incapable of seeing what was right in front of him.

Asmodeus had been right; Lucifer really hadn’t seen what had been right in front of him this whole time, but he saw it now and he was going to damn well show you that he was ready too. As long as you will still have him that is.

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woodenanemone · 4 months

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In my perspective, Choso is a man who could genuinely become lovesick and insane for you.

There’s nothing more that he seeks from life. You’re it. Tears fill his eyes in quiet moments when he thinks about just how lucky he is. How perfect you are for him. Just your pure existence alone brings the man to heaving breaths and panicked hands running through his hair, silently longing for his mind to just shut up and his heart to calm down. He’s… slightly terrified of you, actually.

Terrified of how unaffected he feels when thinking about hurting someone for you. Of the happiness he feels swell in his heart when he thinks about ending his own life to see a smile on your face. The sheer influence your eyes have over his body; how they increase the amount of blood running through his body, how they dot sweat across his hairline, creates a tremble in his lip and hands, the tears, oh the tears. They come in waves, when the realization that he is completely and wholly devoted to you hits him once again.

He’s also terrified of the power your lips have over his thoughts. It’s a little disturbing how often his mind will wander to the wonderful thing that is your lips. You make him want nothing more than to talk to you for hours on end— with the way your lips move, the way they form letters and words and sentences… he can’t stand the thought of him saying more than five words at a time. It’s truly just a waste of his breath if it’s taking away from the sight of your lips moving. His search history is full of questions such as “deep conversation prompts”, and “how to get someone talking for hours”. Watching your lips form such precious conversation that he stores deep in the crevices of his memory, can send the man into a fit of pure psychosis. The thought of your lips on his has yet to cross his mind; just the beauty and shape and color of your lips bring him to his knees on its own. But when it does, he has to physically hold his chest. It occurs when he’s watching a movie with Yuuji one night, the boy had long since fallen asleep on the armchair, leaving Choso to view the film he had no sort of desire to see, but had yet to switch off. He couldn’t care to remember the name, something corny. But when he saw the female actress pull the male actor into an embrace, her hands spread across his cheeks as she brought him towards her— their faces drew together slowly, his eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips, Choso found himself leaning forward on the couch, eyebrows slightly furrowing in anticipation. And there was a pause. A pause between the two actors, before their lips laid on the other’s.

A short breath of air escaped the man as he stared at this seemingly private moment, but he couldn’t look away. The way the man’s hands slithered up to cup her face so carefully, tilting his head to get more of her, to feel more of her… oh he couldn’t take it. Choso quickly switched off the TV, as if it offended him, staring at the black screen as he reflected on what he had just witnessed. Sure, he was familiar with kisses. He had accidentally seen a young couple or two wrestling with their tongues in an all too inappropriate setting. He’d always avert his eyes quickly, feeling uncomfortable and invasive. But he’s never seen it like that. Although it was shot with a script in mind, the care and the intimacy in that kiss were too heartbreaking for him at that moment, he had to clutch the skin above his heart in fear that the rapid rhythm would soon kill him. The fact that it was nothing more than a job for them, and yet there was still that amount of passion—but as he continued to think and reflect, the actors’ lips morphing into his own, and the actresses into yours— he let out an audible sound of agony, throwing his back against the back of the couch, finding himself mourning over the loss of his free will over his heart, his life. Saddened for the loss of his sanity, feeling nothing but joy at your control of his soul… he knew that was far from sane thinking.

Those lips, paired with your voice, oh he’s genuinely going to throw up. He gets sick at the sound of his own voice at some point. The fact that he’s speaking right now, as is in he’s preventing your pretty voice from filling the air and blessing his ears, is truly sickening. He wishes he could just transport his responses and conversation prompts into your brain, so you never have to pause your talking. He could never get bored of your talking. Every word you speak, every thought you convey, every joke that you tell (that sometimes flies over his head. but he laughs anyway.) is kept away in his poor, aching heart for safekeeping, he adores every single sound out of your lips. He knows there are times where you don’t want to speak, and that’s more than okay with him. He’ll gladly fill in the air with nonsense, or let the silence keep its place in the room, he doesn’t mind. The communication between your eyes is enough to fill the conversation for both of you.

He stares a lot. Like… a lot. But he can’t help it, and he’s certainly not going to stop. How could he just ignore your presence like that? To ignore your deep eyes, the curve of your nose, the sweet color of your lips, and the rise of your throat as you swallow your dinner would be a transgression he wouldn’t dare commit. It’s an insult to you and to himself to look away from you. The overpowering beauty that is you is an art that must be gazed upon, and to be admired. To be awed at. To be wept over, to be absolutely crazy about. And he was all of the above. He doesn’t even realize he’s staring at you far too long than what’s considered normal. It’s like you’re a character on a screen, and he’s a hopeless viewer, gushing over how addicting this character is, obsessively creating fantasies full of you you you, unable to break free of your voice, the shape of your face, the sight of your smile. But he isn’t a spectator, he’s here, he’s with you, and you’re with him. He can touch you (if he so dared… he doesn’t think he has the heart to invade your personal space.), he can speak to you, and you can respond. The realization that you’re not a silly figment of his imagination, or cast for a role on a screen he can only spectate, sends him into a spiral.

You control everything about him. Every thought, every pump of his enslaved heart, every tear that falls from his lovesick eyes, is all for you. You carry his heart, soul, and very existence in those (precious, pretty, delicate, oh he just wants to kiss every knuckle—) hands of yours. He’d beg for you, he would get on his hands and his knees and put his head to the ground as he just pleads for you… anything you wanted, he’d do it. You torment his life, his very being, and he craves for more.

He’s yours, he’s yours.

im soo normal about choso el oh el

#choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #choso x reader fluff #choso kamo x reader fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader fluff

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jingyuqn · 4 months

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The Annoying General & The Annoyed Advisor

summary. the general & advisor's relationship has been upgraded to lovers! warnings. mention of killing jing yuan(y/n doesn't know how to cope). wd ; 1203. note. heyyy (def did not forgot to post and was drwoning in schoolwork)

The Luofu had witnessed many events, ranging from wars to the everyday bickering of the general and his advisor. Many know of the former laziness, often he was seen walking around the marketplace looking around for nothing in particular followed by his advisor who tries to bring him back to his post.

The Advisor tried all sorts of ways to make their boss finish his work, but to no avail the general was cunning with how he avoided it.

“ shouldn’t you put all that energy you have trying to avoid working and use it to do your share of the paperwork?” the advisor once asked.

The general did nothing but smile adoringly towards his advisor and replied ;

“Say, as my advisor, what do you think of this tea set? Should I go for a plain one or one with decorations?”

The advisor was left stunned. Mostly at the audacity, the man in front of them had asked them to choose between tea sets while a growing pile of paper was awaiting the general’s attention in his office.

The advisor, in a fit of rage, attempted to kill the general.

When, on rare occasions, the general was doing his work. The advisor was standing near him, half monitoring and half aiding him in reports and what's not. Though, this situation did not help the general do much.

His mind is too focused on the sweet voice of his advisor, the breaths they take and how he could feel them when his advisor leans over to point out a fact. The not so subtle glance they take at his hair, the twitch of their fingers as they want to run their fingers through his mane-like silver hair.

When the general wasn’t distracted by sleep or the marketplace, his advisor was enough of a distraction to stop him from completing any sorts of work.

The advisor, despite being quick to catch on tellsigns and hints, was terrible when it had anything to do with love. If the heavy blush they had on when someone confessed their love for them was anything to go by.

The general’s aid was also oblivious to the love stares, the flirtatious nature reserved only to them, all done by their boss. Aeons! Jing yuan practically asked you out and you declined, saying it wasn't professional for a boss and his employee to go out for dinner, in a restaurant known for its romantic atmosphere nonetheless.

Jing yuan swore that you may have been a genius and forever victorious in the battlefield, but you certainly have no knowledge about romance. He had to stop himself from tearing his hair apart in front of you.

And yet, when the town’s square was filled to the brim with people enjoying the festive moment, and with how close you two were due to the crowd. Jing yuan found himself falling all over again.

The tight grasp of your hand around his, the heated cheeks and cold nose you had, the soft features gracefully adorned with a smile. Jing yuan found you beautiful. He didn’t shy away when you noticed his stare, instead bathing in the embarrassed look you have, as you looked away, his thumb and pointer finger supported your chin and directed your attention on him.

“Keep your pretty eyes on me beautiful.”

And he could swear on his precious lieutenant head that he didn’t mean to kiss you, and how it was a passerby’s fault that bumped into him. But he could never deny how your sweet lips were tempting him in for a second kiss. And Jing yuan is guilty of succumbing to the temptation.

The first time was quick, barely able to feel your lips.

The second time however, Jing yuan took his time. They tasted sweet, probably due to the drink you had earlier. His hand fits perfectly against your cheeks, they cradled them softly as if he was handling glass.

His eyes were focused on yours, the love swirling inside of them made your own reflect the genuine love. With now glossy lips (your gloss tasted like sweet grapes, his favorites.) , Jing yuan parted from you. Even if he was regretting it, the dumb founded look you had made him regret it a little less.

“I love you.”

Was all he said.

Jing yuan wasn’t a man of few words, but when he did speak less, it held a heavy tone. He stared at you, his hands still not leaving your cheek, and he was glad he didn’t. The growing heat warmed up his hand.

Jing yuan was nervous.

This was a risky move he made, but after decades of running after even the slightest bit of your affection, his patience ran short. He could only wait with bated breaths.

The advisor was in a different state.

Your heart was beating fast. Even the thrill of the battle never made you this agitated. You could still feel the ghost of his lips against yours. You didn’t know what to do, three words that you waited for a while were spoken before you. All prepared answers were forgotten.

Sure the settings were perfect, beautifully perfect! But you weren’t ready!

So maybe it was habits, or perhaps a (weird) nervous response. But you ended up punching the general.

It didn’t register until you heard the pained voice of the general.

“That… was an expected answer. ” he chuckled while you were panicking

“Oh great Lan! I’m so sorry! I was nervous and just thought of a natural response and it was actually your fault! ” you pointed at him, “I mean sure everything was perfect but couldn’t you at least tell me beforehand? I wasn’t prepared, oh no what about the sweet speech I was supposed to give you?” you punched him again, this time in his arm (he could stop it, but he didn’t dare. Lest your nervous response trigger again and you flip him over this time.) “See this is what happens when you don’t tell me anything you stupidly beautiful jing yuan—”

“You think I’m beautiful?” he leaned in closer, his arms crossing over his chest. You couldn’t help stealing a glance towards his chest. (You wondered if they were soft and comfortable to sleep on.)

“That’s what you heard over everything else?” you deadpanned at him.

He simply shrugged, “All I heard was that you love me, for quite a while at that, and you had already planned a way to confess. That’s more than enough for me.”

“You insufferable scoundrel.”

“A beautiful insufferable scoundrel.” he laughed at your pained expression. “So about that dinner you refused, any new thoughts?” You stared up at him, he was still leaning down to you. Unconsciously, your hands played around with his hair, his eyes glance towards your hands before focusing back on you. You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up once again.

The rest of the night was spent in his house, buried under his sheets while having his arms warped around you.

The next day however, you were both met with whistles from supporting soldiers and groans from those who lost money from betting on your relationship.

#✎. *. ⋆ writing.#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan hsr #hsr fluff #honkai star rail #honkai x reader

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ay0nha · 9 months

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Venus Rising | Thomas Shelby

SUMMARY: Three moments in which you run into Tommy, the final provoking a deal neither of you are prepared for.

“I am afraid of getting older. I am afraid of getting married. Spare me from cooking three meals a day—spare me from the relentless cage of routine and rote. I want to be free…I want, I want to think, to be omniscient.” Sylvia Plath (1949)

PAIRING: Tommy Shelby x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: ANGST, swearing, smoking (tobacco/weed), criticism of time-period misogyny/misogyny in general, canon-typical things, angst again, rich people being annoying, no proof reading, rushed ending, slow burn, etc.

A/N: Oop, another Tommy fic, apparently it’s not quite out of my system. Inspired by the film How to Steal a Million (title is inspired by the original title of the book!) and @huntingingoodwill‘s post (here), ESPECIALLY with the third part of this as it comes from Carmen’s beautiful brain. Inspo is taken from various feminist writing and particularly an Agnes Varda quote. MIGHT do a part two, idk yet.

Comments are VERY encouraged! Enjoy.

“Thanks for that…” Tommy was finally catching his breath but still searched for your name. He hadn’t seen you in the gathering below and questioned if the room he found himself in belonged to you.

“We’re better off strangers.” You weren’t defensive, nor was your guard up; you were just focused. Fixated. The painting was borderline mesmerizing, and you struggled to tell if it was from the art or how your joint dwindled steadily.

Your isolation was purposeful.

The reception provoked the start of a migraine; its noise bleeding through the thick walls of the stately home only grew more deafening as the evening furthered. To find relief, you wandered the empty halls, the stairs that led to darkness, and every door that seemed particularly off-limits.

It was a simple measure of self-preservation until your seclusion was fractured.

The door opened abruptly, a body sliding through the narrow space to hide in the most prominent shadow. You thought you were caught, but the man held a finger to his lips, expression prepared for the obvious chase.

You were the perfect accomplice.

Those who came looking for him were met with your theatrics, a role well-rehearsed; your eyes never glanced to where Tommy hid in the most prominent shadows; your upset alone secured you hadn’t seen the man with the razor-lined cap; you simply wanted to return to your silence.

“You stick out, you know…” You filtered smoke through your nose, half-lidded eyes remaining ahead. The thought was absentminded, your lips tingling with indifference.

“I have an invitation.” Tommy had it forged, making it nearly identical to the one you’d received in the post.

You hummed with amusement. “I mean—you don’t belong.”

Considering how you equated his presence with his class, Tommy considered taking offense. However, your humor exposed no ill intent. You were trying to relate to him. To offer some solace, you offered the joint to him between pinched fingers.

“Let me guess, neither do you.” Tommy accepted your olive branch with a drag.

“Oh, I never will.” Although your smile remained, your tone became distant. You didn’t glance at Tommy until he took another puff. His eyes were ahead, just as yours were, attempting to see what had enraptured you in the painting. “Just like her.”

The face of the young woman depicted was covered, but her body was exposed. You were sure the owner of the canvas only valued the misinterpreted eroticism. Yet, the scene’s voyeuristic purposes were to convey the end of a very long day. You were convinced if you reached out, you could soothe her aching muscles from her obviously laborious job.

The painting's size didn’t speak for its cost. You wanted to laugh at how something so precious was stored on a wall as a forgotten decoration. However, you would do the exact same if it were in your possession. It would hang on your ceiling that way; when you rested your head against your pillow, you could get one final look at it as if it were a mirror, a grounding reminder that there was company in such an empty space.

“You pity the poor.” The statement held a questioning tone. Tommy interpreted the painting and your thoughts literally; a woman relieved of farm work was being judged by you—someone worse than the bourgeois.

“Don’t you see it?” Bitter ecstasy carried your words. You wanted to be heard. “Her and I are the same…”

Tommy returned the joint, realizing its purpose was to aid and calm you from the turmoil you hoped to escape. He felt an odd sense to comfort you but wouldn’t.

Instead, he repaid his earlier debt with unaccustomed humor, “I doubt someone like you shovels shit for a living.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You let the smoke settle in your chest, its warmth comforting. “From inception, we’re indistinguishable, born with an innocence that is only nurtured to be stolen. Our very being is never our own. Once our bodies are pried from our minds, we starve because of it.”

“Ah, I see…” Tommy started, “You’re a modern woman.”

The joint was almost a roach, but you passed it back, ridding yourself of its responsibility. The man beside you was a stranger, and you were thankful for that position. Anything said didn’t matter. It would evaporate and leave no trace. Tommy understood this well, participating in a game he didn’t know the rules of.

“Modernity is irrelevant.” You corrected. Your words sunk into your stomach, weighing you down. “This is beyond time.”

—

“Gave a try shoveling shit, eh?” Tommy crossed his legs, leaning back with an ease you were envious of. A cigarette was rolled along his lips, a habit formed by comfort.

Once lit, the image was complete. It had clicked. “You.”

Thomas Shelby. Your memory of him held a haze, that night's intoxication cherry-picking how you retained the interaction. But your vague image of him was enough to understand his occupation. You were warned against his world, but you could only do so much when your worlds overlapped so bizarrely.

“Me.” He confessed with mitigation. There was a cadence even in his silence. Clearly, he was thinking of how to approach you, but you failed to recognize how he always remained ahead in his business. “You were found near the stables.”

“Apparently, I’m a witch.” You mused. Cheltenham was never dull.

Tommy hummed, entertaining your wit only slightly. “They think you’ve cursed the horses.”

Horses were efficient beasts that were often mistreated, that much you knew. However, they intimidated you into submission. Their role in your life was distant, typically involving a reflection of wealth and nothing more.

You hid behind the stables because you misunderstood the distance you created. It had a false bottom that showed those in your world never enter their stables, allowing others to do the hard work. Those around you wouldn’t dare stain their fine fabrics how you chose to.

Although the air was foul, the stables were the only place you could breathe without the hands of your arranged date finding home where they weren’t welcomed.

You knew the man who caught you was Tommy’s brother. Though they looked different, the air surrounding them was suffocating. They were driven by brutal confidence that manifested physically and for Tommy mentally. The mind game you were presented with was just as predetermined as the races.

“I want us to understand each other.” Ash fell from Tommy’s cigarette in thought. “We do not share the same fantasy.”

“And what fantasy is that?”

“Poor little rich girl—” His words were punctuated. “—thinks she can play gypsy until she hears the dinner bell.”

Your laughter made him flinch. “And what’s for dinner?”

Tommy had vetted you. No one knew anything worthy about you. So everyone simply fantasized about you, spinning tales. Yet, you were an extraordinary nobody—an amazing unknown. Suspicion wasn’t necessary, but there was no need for his growing intrigue.

“That man you came with…” Tommy knew who he was. He was another kid that thought one day he could rule the world. But all he was capable of was poorly executed white-collar crime. “Who is he?”

You shrugged. “To him, I am his girlfriend.”

“And to you?”

“Does that matter?”

Tommy quickly learned that your only form of retaliation was posed through questions. The more philosophical, the more your guard remained. “I've been thinking about what you've said…”

The admission alone was out of character and also misrepresented. Tommy's mind was riddled with your sentiments. It was a thoughtful comment on something broader, something Tommy knew of and was growing to understand. But that wasn’t what preoccupied him.

It was how your poise wasn’t carried through your posture. It was how you expressed yourself indifferently but spoke so sharply. You were a constant contrast that perplexed him, possessed him to look into you, into your life. He planned to search until he found a moment where you put your thoughts to use the way he had.

“You, a suffragette?” Your lip curled at the thought. “Now, that, Mr. Shelby, is a fantasy.”

—

Planning an escape was satisfying but little compared to the follow-through.

The feeling solidified when the silk hem of your dress billowed was the only trail of your escape. You could hear your name echo along the corridor wall, someone sent to find you and force you back into the festivities.

“Where are you going?” The voice was a mix of a whisper and shout, reflecting nothing but urgency. The guests weren’t privy to your behavior, but your absence was clear. You heard your name again.“You must come down! You’re upsetting the guests!”

Although your home, the walls felt like they were shifting, creating a maze to your safety. The click of your heels was like a countdown to being caught. That was until your hand frantically found an antique handle of the most inconspicuous door.

Sliding into the broom closet, darkness invaded your senses.

With its veil, you could make out the sliver of light that fought to illuminate the room from the other side. It tracked the shadow of who chased you, showing you how they inched closer, hoping to hear your rapid breathing. Once enough time was given to their search; the footsteps receded in the wrong direction, their voice calling after you growing faint.

Your relief was borderline euphoric; your body demonstrated success as the tension drained the further you calmed. You sunk toward the door, forehead against the smooth, cool wood.

The sound behind was as quick as the movement. Identifiable and surprising.

The match created friction that illuminated the small space with an orange glow. You moved fast, your breath pinned to the roof of your mouth.

“Cigarette?” Tobacco filled the cramped room, the burning end of the cigarette not quite exposing your companion. But you could feel the amusement at the situation radiate from the corner.

Your stupor made you move with shock. “Christ!”

Your hand shot up to feel around for the light switch above you, yanking on the cord. Awash in light, you took in the sight of the man who was casually nursing a cigarette.

“Mr. Shelby?” You blinked at him, dumbfounded.

“Tommy.”

“What are you—

“I’m a guest.” The cigarette bobbed with his chiding.

“A guest.” You repeated, your tone brimming with doubtful sarcasm. “And what is a guest doing, hiding here, so far away from the party?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He quipped, icy expression holding your own.

“Ah, but I’m not a guest.” You defended yourself, holding up a finger as you corrected him. “This is my family’s party. I am technically a host.”

“Well—” He began, taking a puff of his cigarette, silver smoke spilling from his lips as he spoke. “—not a very good host if you’re hiding up here, eh?”

Your eyebrows cocked as you took him in. His presence meant business. “I don’t seem to remember my father mentioning gangsters would be on the guest list tonight.”

“Why not?” He replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “We’re good fun at parties.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” You mused. “But I doubt this is your kind of party.” You wished to witness him in action, for him to live up to all the stories you’ve heard about him firsthand. And you could tell he was itching for you to ask. “What have you got planned tonight?”

“If you must know—” Tommy remained externally stoic but revealed himself bluntly. “—I’m here to rob your family blind.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your father has come into quite a bit of money recently,” Tommy said, words calculated and measured. “He’s been stepping on the Blinders’ business. So, I came here tonight to take back what’s ours.”

“How much?” You asked.

“A million dollars.” He sighed, highlighting his statement with a drag of his cigarette.

“That all?” You scoffed.

“You’d hardly miss it,” Tommy explained. “And, with your family’s yearly legendary holiday party going on tonight, I figured I could hide until all the…” He took a second to ponder, searching for the words, “...rich fucks down there were drunk enough. Then, I’d take what’s mine and leave. No one would be any the wiser.”

There was a pause. He wanted you to protest, but he knew you wouldn’t. You were reading him just as well. It quickly became a stalemate, but you had the advantage of toying with him.

“Well, I should fulfill my host duties.” You sighed, tone wrapping up the unorthodox interaction. “Find my father while I’m at it; tell him bookkeepers are infested in our walls.”

“You’re not going back down there.”

Another pause. Your skin crawled with jest. “And why’s that, Mr. Shelby?”

He shook his head casually, eyes boring through yours. “You’re not going back down there because you don’t want to.”

“What?” Your laugh was soft and unexpected. It was hard to determine, but some of you would have rathered a threat. This was almost as entertaining.

“I can tell you don’t want to go down there. So don’t.”

Behind your back, you reached for the doorknob, but as your fingers grazed it, you lost your nerve. You sighed, flexing your fingers.

“Move over.” You instructed, and Tommy listened. He slid closer to the wall as you squeezed beside him, arm against him in a one-sided comfort. “Poor little rich girl opening up to a gangster. Never saw that in the cards.” You plucked the cigarette from his fingers, taking a drag, carefully considering your next words. “It’s never as simple as it seems, really.”

“Sure it is.”

“It really isn’t.” You chuckled, eyes trained on the glowing end of the cigarette.

“Enlighten me.” He replied, taking the cigarette back as you passed it to him.

The emotions you kept bottled up bubbled in your throat. Living in the gilded cage of high society had privilege but was equally emotionally destructive. It felt foreign, the thought of exposing yourself with such vulnerability; you grew nervous at the prospect of having to do so.

“Simplicity is a pipe dream when your life relies on codependency.” Just the thought of it made you dizzy. “It’s better to hide than risk being a blemish to the family.”

Tommy stayed quiet. Then against better judgment, he spoke. “Why not just leave? You’re a clever girl. Surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” You countered without edge; you knew his slight dig was only to lighten things. He said his part out of decency. “Why do you think I was at those stables? If it weren’t for your brother…”

The crackle of your drag filled the new-found silence. You weren’t sure how long you’d stay there nor how long you subject Tommy to your company. It was a moment of brevity you both seemed to need. You hadn’t meant to find him, and his plan had nothing to do with you, but that in itself sparked your idea.

“Hey, Tommy?”

He turned to meet your contact, eyebrows raised, air mixing from the proximity. “Hmm?”

“How’d you like some help with stealing that million?”

#q #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x f!reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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my-love-is-sunlight · 3 months

Text

Orange tree

Sanji x gardener!reader

Warnings: Pure fluff but talk about hurt a bit, I used the expression killing itself once, fem reader

Word count: 1,140 words

Summary: In which Sanji finds you looking at orange trees, from the series of reader with earth powers but can be read as a stand alone

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆

You had been gone most of the day, and of course the first one to notice this was Sanji, he had hurried with cleaning the kitchen just so he could see what the hell were you up to.

Of course he knew where to find you, down in the garden.

He walked between the tress and the plants, he smiled fondly because he could really see your hard work, all the plants looked so alive and happy, he could touch the care and love you had put into all of this garden.

And there you were, sitting in front of one of Nami’s orange trees, but almost out of sight because you were lost between the oranges, sitting in a corner.

“There you are sunlight” Sanji said very softly to not scare you away, you turned to him with a smile- “Oh hey!”

You stared an each other as the cook searched your face, as if looking for a trace of what were you doing by yourself. You patted the grass next to you eagerly as if saying here sit!, which made Sanji’s stomach flutter.

So he sat, in silence listening to the dancing leaves of the tress, the wind and sea crushing in the Sunny, and your slow breathing

“Have you ever seen an orange tree that’s killing itself?” You broke the silence, Sanji looked at you a little puzzled “What?…” he looked at your face trying to find an answer- “No I’ve never heard of a thing like that dear”.

You sighed and balanced yourself to pick one of the oranges that hanged low, and looked at Sanji showing him the fruit, he took it slowly and gently, and when your hands brushed you made flowers bloom in his hand which made you giggle, but the blonde man felt his whole face blush and heartbeat accelerate.

As he started to peel the orange you said- “When you don’t pluck the oranges form the trees, the weight of the fruit becomes too much, so the tree contorts, branches bow towards the grass” you pause to look at the tree, pointing at the branches and fruit that hanged low to Sanji -“See?, it’s still alive, but it’s struggling”

Sanji listened to you attentively, he admired how you always managed to sound so poetic every time you spoke, you could be describing the most mundane thing in the world and make it sound like an extract from Shakespeare. Your gaze looked soft, he always noticed that whenever you two talked it was like you softened.

“Its like…” you hesitated for a moment and looked at the cook just to make sure he was listening- “Like it’s crying for love, to love would mean to share it’s precious fruit, it has so much to share”

Sanji hummed just so you knew he was actively listening- “ It needs people around it to live, like it knows if it’s ignored, it would break”

He wished he could just print this moment, the way you looked, the sunlight that made figures with the trees, your locks that framed your face, the way your jewelry shined, and just how special and intimate this moment felt to Sanji.

A long pause was followed, it was like you were hesitating if you wanted to continue to say what you wanted, but Sanji wanted to continue hearing your thoughts.

“I really never noticed or knew this, you’re not only beautiful but smart! How brilliant” he said smiling and looking for a reaction in your face, you looked at him too, your face flushed pink at his compliment which made a giggle escape his mouth- “Sad but poetic” he said in a whisper.

You liked how the blonde cook was like you, such a romantic and admired the little things in life like you did.

“I think I am an orange tree” you said while the grass around you blossomed with flowers and leaves, Sanjis eyes widened, he absolutely adored how your emotions were tied to your powers, it made you look like a nature goddess. He sat with what you had said to him really reading into it.

“It hurts you, sunlight?” He said ever so tender while his body switched weight so he could be closer to you- “Well, I have so much love to share, before I joined you guys no one wanted what I had, but now…” you paused so you could look at his pretty eyes- “My branches feel lighter” you declaimed while smiling at Sanji.

The air is stuck on the cooks throat, his eyes glistened and wondered to your lips that were tinted a fair shade of red from your lipstick, you could listen to his heartbeat loud and clear which made you smile a little more

You would be a liar if you said you weren’t fond of the cook, more than anyone else in the crew, but because he was a big flirt with every woman on earth, sometimes it was hard for you to get closer romantically to him as much as you wanted, you knew you couldn’t change that about him, so instead you just were completely yourself around him, soft and understanding and talked a lot, you valued that over anything else.

Human connection for you was really important. So you listened and opened yourself to him little by little.

You look down at Sanjis free hand that wasn’t holding the orange and put your own hand over it slowly- “Thank you for being here Sanji, and for sharing my fruit with me”

Ba-dum!!

Sanji went completely red, eyes wide as the sky, he couldn’t even answer you because he was completely struck, you were always so sweet and grateful to him like no one else was, that melted him completely

He parted the orange that he had on half, lending you the other part, you took it happily as he said- “I think I should be the one grateful sunlight, thank you for taking care of me and brightening my life” he whispered in your ear which made you shiver a bit, you looked at him trough your eyelashes which made both of your hearts flutter.

“Y/N GET YOUR STUPID PLANTS OUT OF HERE!” Zoro shouted annoyingly, you didn’t notice how you made the whole Sunny blossom at the same time your heart did, you blushed crazily

“SHUT UP YOU UNGRATEFUL MOSS”- Sanji quickly jumped out of where he was sat and rushed to find Zoro

As their bickering and Franky begging them to stop breaking stuff was heard all around the ship, you laid on the grass showering on the sun and breathing the fruity sent of oranges, smiling like an idiot

You were sure that you would never let Sanjis branches bow to the ground, and that he would make sure yours wouldn’t too.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆

Hi! I am obsessed with this so I’m gonna be writing more about gardener!reader and Sanji stay tuned. Also English is not my first language so feel free to correct me!

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