#i'm glad to be a source of comfort to Someone---

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭

Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid

Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺

First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.

Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]

The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.

You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.

To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.

"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"

Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.

"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.

The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.

Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.

"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.

So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.

"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"

Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.

"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.

The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.

Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.

It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.

So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.

Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.

The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.

Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.

The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.

"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."

"I don't care about money."

Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?

"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.

"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.

But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.

Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.

"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."

The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.

You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.

Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.

[liveontelevision]

Hi! I wasnt exactly sure if you’re taking request but i was hoping for something with Lucifer and a babysitter reader. Maybe they baby sat Charlie, and they just have a lot of tension. And then maybe them reuniting after him and lilith have split and it all goes down 👀

Love your slowburny Lucifer fics 🙏🙏

!!!

First off, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoy my stuff! I've been struggling with writing recently, so your request was perfectly timed lol

Also Yes! I'm always taking requests!

Plus, it's such a good request.. so good, I had way too many ideas for how it could go. So - this is a 2 parter >:) Suffer

CW: No smut yet, just suggestive fluff for now

Suffer | Lucifer x Reader

It really was a happy day in Hell when the royals introduced an heir to the throne. A darling daughter, who was the first of her kind; A hellborn baby, birthed by a sinner and an archangel. No one really knew what to expect or what kind of powers she held. But they had to be immense. She had to be some kind of beast, based on her genes alone. In theory. 

One look at her, all swaddled up in her mother's arms, Lucifer fell in love all over again. Sure, he was ecstatic to hear that he was having a child, but he didn't realize how much of an effect she’d have on him. She was an absolute angel. Mostly. Great powers must be controlled, and that isn't exactly something an infant can comprehend. It was innocent at first, with little fireworks coming from fingertips, toys being lost in portals, and horns and tails emerging during temper tantrums. Nothing a good nanny couldn't fix. 

That’s what Lillith’s mindset was, at least. It was a heated debate between the married couple, with Lucifer arguing a child needs to be loved and adored by their parents. He was willing to put in the time, why wasn't she? Of course, Lilith was a busy demon, with the whole empowering demonkind with her voice and songs thing, but too busy to handle her own baby?

“She’s gonna be an adult before we know it. Can’t you spend a few decades seeing her grow up..?” Lillith delicately takes her cutlery to her mouth, picking at the dinner she shared with her husband, who was seated on the other end of their lengthy table.

“Unlike you, my love, I have duties to attend to. Someone has to keep things running smoothly, to keep every demon’s hopes as high as they can be. You remember what it was like falling, being all alone and left in an unfamiliar world? I wouldn't want anyone else to feel that way. Would you?” He hated to agree, but did so anyway. She always knew what to say to make him feel guilty. Either way, she was right. He really didn't do much nowadays. He worked in his shop more, his newborn daughter becoming a great source of inspiration, but Lillith handled most of the publicity. Which, in Hell, is one of the only purposes for royalty. Lucifer didn't need to create life anymore, Hellborn creations were multiplying just fine. Probably a little too much, actually. He had all the free time in the world to shower his daughter with affection. 

“ I mean..! I guess not, but they're filthy little demons, and this is your daughter! You want to leave her in the hands of some stranger? It’s just.. not right..! She needs a mother, Lily!” He was clearly passionate about this. Slamming his fists on the table, he sent ripples through the poured wine in front of Lillith’s plate.

“Lucifer. You’re causing a scene.” He hated when she said that, too. And again, he shrunk back in his seat, keeping his mouth shut. They had been drifting apart for a while, the distance not doing them any favors. He had no interest in interacting with demonkind and was fully comfortable with letting Lillith take that on, so they became more distant as she tended to Hell’s growing population.

When she rose from her seat, he finally perked up, hoping to meet her eyes. She was already halfway out of the room. “I’ll do all the work, darling, not to worry. I’ll make sure any candidate is thoroughly interviewed and trained, I promise.” Her voice was reassuring, even with the heartless subject matter. Leaving Lucifer alone in the room with some imps that usually stand along the walls, he spotted her almost untouched plate. pushing away from the table, he nearly knocked his heavy, ornamented chair onto the ground and left through another exit.

—

“Oh, Charlie.. Your mother loves you very much.” He swung the bundled-up baby in his arms, reveling in the sound of her giggles. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he placed her carefully in her golden crib. Standing over her, he leaned onto the railing, watching her large red eyes flutter shut. “And.. I will shelter and adore you, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything.” He wiped a little tear that began to well up in his eye when he spoke and struggled to finally pull himself away. Protecting himself from his intrusive thoughts, he held his arms across his chest and turned to leave her nursery.

“Aww, that was so sweet..” The figure leaning in the doorframe caused him to let out a startled yelp. “Who the Hell.. You have to leave, whoever you are.” He became immediately defensive, holding his hand away from the crib in some form of protection, but he still spoke in a hushed voice. If you were just an imp he wouldn't be as worked up, but you were a sinner. A sinner who suddenly appeared in his daughter’s room. “O-oh! Um, sorry, I thought the queen would’ve.. I’m your new nanny..?” You let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging your tensed shoulders. And now? You’re admitting you're the very demon who’ll be raising his daughter alongside him. He dropped his arms, letting out a scoff, clearly unenthused. Looking you up and down, he stood there staring daggers. After a moment of awkward silence, you held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t respond to it.

“What are your qualifications? Where did you come from? What makes you think you’re worthy of laying hands on my daughter? The princess of Hell?” He circled you, in an attempt to intimidate you, despite his small stature. “Well, um... When I was alive, I was the oldest kid at the foster house I grew up in. It wasn’t the best facility, so I basically raised most of the girls there.. I’ve seen it all, I guarantee.” You tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile, but it didint do much. “And Lillith approves of you?” You nodded, gripping the hem of your skirt nervously. “Hm. I am not as easily swayed as my wife. She’s my daughter, too. You’ll have to do better than - “ An ear-piercing wale comes from behind him. The commotion must've woken Charlie up. “Oh! No no nono..” His demonic presence faded to reveal what he really was. A father. He scooped her up and cooed, hushing her and swaying her slowly. It did nothing to help. That’s when another fact clicked in your mind; he wasn’t just a father, he was a new father. He lets out a nervous groan, wiping tears away from her heated cheeks.

“Your majesty..?” You slowly approached him, both of you still on edge. “May I?” He was clearly still debating the idea, but another loud wail had him hesitantly passing the swaddled child to your arms. He had such a light hold on her, you noticed his hands trembling when he finally released her into your grasp. You held her close, her front against your chest as you hummed in a low tone a little tune. You picked up a little trick, the vibrations from your chest helped calm her down. The action of swaying the baby and engrossing yourself in the little song running through your head actually calmed the both of you. You still spoke softly, in a low tone, “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with her, i mean. I’ll be here for anything you need. Anything she needs.” You sent him a warm smile. He simply nodded his head slowly, still witnessing the miracle that is someone with experience caring for a child. Maybe this could work out.. What could go wrong?

—

“I’m gonna getcha!” A high-pitched giggle filled the corridors of the manor, Lucifer rounds the corner to follow after his surprisingly speedy toddler. He was mostly having fun with this little game of tag but was also mildly concerned by her growing distance. “Gotcha!” A pair of arms swooped down from around another corner, scooping Charlie up as she let out a playful yelp. You held her in a tight hug, before adjusting your position to hold her up comfortably. Lucifer panted, smiling at the sight of you and his daughter, despite him being out of breath. “G-good catch.. Hoof..!” He stretches his arms upwards, then places them on the small of his back. “Aren’t you the most powerful being in Hell? Why are you acting like a middle-aged dad with a broken back?” you laughed through your words, the sound making Charlie laugh along. He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. “Uh, It’s for fun? Ever heard of playing pretend?” You bit your lip to prevent yourself from mocking him anymore. “Don’t laugh!” You shook your head, then watched him open his arms out to you. Or, to Charlie, actually, but you stepped back instead of handing her over. “Oh, I forgot to remind you, you actually have to head to the Heaven Embassy in a bit, so I’m gonna put Charlie down for her nap instead.” He dropped his arms and grimaced. “Right..”

This mid-day nap was a sort of tradition for Lucifer and his daughter. It was one of the few moments that Lucifer looked forward to these days. You knew that. As much as you enjoyed your job, it came with the unfortunate privilege of seeing Lucifer in his slumps. You rarely saw Lillith, actually, but that made sense. You were only here for Charlie while Lillith couldnt be. When you did spot her iin passing, you’d hand Charlie over and let the two of them have a sweet interaction, usually a quick hug and peck on the forehead, but that was usually it. You’d always notice Charlie clinging onto your shoulder and looking back in her mother’s direction whenever she handed her daughter back to you. It always crushed your heart to hear her go silent after those moments.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to help get her ready for the gala tonight? You should be back in time and it won't take long. Lilith only wants her to make a quick appearance, so it shouldn't be too much work.. Good bonding moment, too!” His eyes sparkled at your invitation and he was quick to accept it. “Thank you, dear. I’ll find you after that meeting.” As he goes to walk past you, he places a hand on your back. He does this often, but as the years went on, it shifted from your shoulder to your shoulderblade, and now he delicately places his hand on your lower back whenever he can. It made you anxious at first.. Was anxious the right word? Either way, you didn't stop him.

He leaned in to place a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, becoming increasingly close to your own face. It wasn't a quick motion. He pressed a dramatic kiss onto her head, letting out a mwah! sound as he pulled back. But before he did, he looked up to you with half-lidded eyes. The eye contact seemed to last forever. And you ever wanted it to stop. A small hand came up and patted Lucifer’s cheek, a childish giggle breaking the moment between you two. What were you thinking? He’s your employer, he’s a king. He’s kind, and sweet, and tries really hard to be a good dad. Nope! Stop it.

“Right! Meeting! Heaven! Gonna.. Yup, I’ll see you.. Uh..” You finished off his words, “ - tonight?”

“Exactly! You got it! Bye, Darling!” He waved his hand off and walked off in a random direction that you were pretty sure didn't lead to where he was supposed to go. “I-I was talking to Charlie, by the way!” You heard from around the corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter with that one. “I know.” You said it softly, not letting him hear the slight disappointment in your voice.

The Gala wasn't a new event, Lillith held them often. Lucifer made his appearance with Charlie, then usually would make up some excuse to get out of the room. Gathering the leaders of each ring of Hell and some of the more powerful overlords, and demons, it was still a big deal. You dressed up Charlie often, since she would throw a temper tantrum when any of the stylists would try to get her ready. You didn't mind, you actually enjoyed prettying her up. You stalled for as long as you could, before beginning to dress her. You wanted to wait for Lucifer, but you assumed he got caught up in some kingly duties. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Don’t be upset. Stop missing him.

“Sorry - Sorry! I'm here!” The blonde demon rounds the corner, hopping on his one foot to balance himself before stopping firmly in Charlie's room. He was wearing an incredibly elegant suit. A dark purple sash cinches His waist, which was only visible because his jacket was hung over his shoulder. His shirt was speckled in gold, matching his hair when under certain light. “Had to convince them I could finish getting ready on my own! Damn stylists, can't catch a break with them.” He let out an awkward laugh, followed by a hoot. He sees Charlie, in her dark purple dress, with small poofed out sleeves, made of a transparent tool. “Charchar! Look at you, kiddo!” He scooped her up and held her close while he swung around. “You're beautiful, sweetheart.” He knew she wouldn't understand that until she was older, but never stopped him from praising her.

He pressed his forehead against hers, laughing along with her. You hated to break the tender moment, but you cleared your throat, bringing the attention back to you. “She's just about ready, just got her hair left.” He placed her back in the chair as you went for a brush. Working through her hair piece by piece, Lucifer suddenly stopped you. “Um.. can I try?” You nodded eagerly, handing the brush over. He swiped slowly, ebing startled by the crunch of a knot, he froze and pulled it away. “It’s okay, you won't hurt her - “ You didn't need to help him this way. Honestly, if anyone were to come in and witness this you could be fired. Still keeping that in mind, you place your hand over his, and guide the brush indirectly, to carefully work through her hair.

After far too long, you pulled your hand away and went to grab some other accessories. His brain was completely fried by the interaction, if this were some looney cartoon, smoke would be puffing out his ears. You weren't as calm as you were coming off as either. Why did you do that? You’d face a fate worse than a second death if anyone saw that. After letting your face cool down, you turned back and bumped Lucifer over with your hip, to take his spot directly behind Charlie. Placing your hands on her shoulders and kneeling down a bit you smile at her reflection. “What do we think, hun? Ponytail? Pigtails? Buns?”

“Braids!” You look at her with a questioning hum. “Pleease!” Braids it is. You start to section off her hair and quickly wrap one clean braid down her back. It only took you a few minutes to do it, leaving bystander Lucifer to sit in awe. He did that a lot. Whenever you’d do something with Charlie that came as second nature to you, he would watch intently. After you noticed his gaze, you began showing him how to do whatever task you had on hand. He needed those moments with her, you knew that. “Wanna give it a shot?” He jumps, as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. “A-Are you sure? It looks kind of complicated, I don't want to ruin her hair if - “ You interrupted his nervous rambling by calling out his title. “I’ll show you, just come watch.” He nodded, almost too quickly, and rushed to stand near you. Very near you. He stood close enough to let your shoulders touch whenever you would lift your arm a certain way. You unfurled the braid you had already done, making Lucifer let out a little sound of disappointment, that you’d ruined your hard work just for him. After attempting to explain it, he manages to struggle his way through a messy braid. He saw you holding in some kind of laugh and sent you daggers.  “No - no! It’s good! Especially for your first time, it’s holding up pretty well! Here - “ You pulled the braid back out, then restarted it, letting him pick it up at an easier place. You took his wrists every so often, to turn his hand in the proper direction before letting him go on.

The focus between the two of you suddenly became intense. He stuck out his tongue a bit, too engrossed in his styling to notice. You stood behind him, your hands pressed on his back, while you stood on your tip toes to observe what he was doing from over his shoulder. Pointing out little pieces of hair that were falling out, you would reach out your pointer finger to gesture towards it, only bringing you a bit closer together.

“Is.. Is that it?” He stepped back slowly, giving you the chance to back away with him. You swung around and examined the braid that he had probably spent too much time on, with an overly dramatic hum. Tapping your chin and squinting your eyes, you researched the braid as if it were some puzzle to solve. “It looks great, Lucifer.” Looking towards him, you were expecting an overly confident grin at the acknowledged accomplishment but instead, was met with a wide-eyed bundle of nerves.

“Sir! I-It looks good, Sir! Well - I’ll let you finish getting ready and take Charlie to -” Reaching out your hands to pick Charlie up, Lucifer stops you by grabbing your arm. “It’s okay! I mean, that’s.. That’s my name! Makes sense for you to call me that, considering its my name, so - “ He lets you go and starts fiddling with the clasps on his sleeves. “It’s okay.. for you to do that..” You smile to yourself, going back to tidying up Charlie’s get-up, doing little things like putting on her darling little shoes and tying a ribbon at the end of her hair.

Lucifer then stood in front of the mirror, brushing off his shirt and slipping on his jacket. It was a dazzling plum-colored suit coat, with golden clasps across his torso, and a golden shoulder plate, that allowed a sheer cape to drape down his left side. He was absolutely stunning. You did your best to avert your eyes, staring at him felt like staring at the sun. You only turned in his direction when he cleared his throat to get your attention. “Sorry.. dear, but uh… If you’re done with Charlie, I just - I’m struggling a little bit here..” You watched him attempt to adjust his lopsided tie, finally drooping his head with a sigh of defeat. “Wow, I thought you wore one of those every day, what’s the problem?” The teasing always helped lighten the mood, you placed your hand on your hip as you leaned your weight onto the vanity.  He glared at you again, letting out a huff before mumbling under his breath. “It’s a clip on..”

You let out a breath you had been holding in, partially from keeping in your laughter, but mostly from the nerves. With the combination of you wearing house slippers, and him wearing his particularly taller pair of boots, he managed to look down at you when you approached him. You should've made it a quick motion, you’ve tied bowties dozens of times, so it definitely wasn't a new task for you. But instead, you took your time. You carefully traced your hands up to his neck, tugging on both ends to pull it as far forward as it could go. You stopped to straighten the collar of his shirt, then delicately knotted the tie with ease. Your breath became heavier when you rested your hands on the finally tied bow, feeling his heart pounding against the side of your palm. After he caught you in your act, he stepped back, the image of his wife suddenly popping into his head. “Ahha.. Well, um - Thank you. I’ll take Charlie, it’s about that time anyway!”

"R-Right.." you suddenly felt guilty for your actions, worrying that you overstepped some lines. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable, he was just silent. As he lifted Charlie from her chair, the vision of the two of them left you breathless. A beautiful pair, with porcelain skin contrasting against a palette of muted purples, and the biggest, brightest eyes. Charlie's braid hung loosely down her back, same golden strands accented in the light off the room. You almost wanted to be in the moment with them.

"Hey, so.. if you think you have time, you're welcome to go down to the ballroom for a drink or.. something... if you want." He really had to consider if that was a good idea. The thought was sitting on his mind while he enjoyed the view of your focused expression on his tie. He watched your eyes light up at the notion, his heart swelling with.. with something.  "Oh! I mean - The queen talks about it like it's this big important fancy thing, but.. if you think it'll be okay.. I'll - um - " She thought for a moment, looking around the room. "I don't exactly have anything to wear.. I'll join next time, if the invites still open?" You smiled, but it was strained. And he could tell. "No problem! I'll have her find something for you, then you can slip in whenever you want. No pressure!"

With a wave of his hand, a little imp girl came from a portal he had conjured up. Peeking inside, you saw a vast collection of gowns. The imp took your hand and dragged you in silently. You stumbled, then stammered something out, something that should've been a thank you, or a show of appreciation, but you were too stunned by the situation. He waved, then Charlie waved, then the two were out of the room.

The picture of them together ran through your mind. Not just them in matching outfits, but whenever he would press his forehead against hers, or he would show off his horns when Charlie was prodding at her own. Or when they really seemed like a family. Lillith was never in those pictures. Fuck, don't be jealous. You're getting paid far too much money to feel anything like that. Plus, you're being treated to an elegant evening gown without even asking. You don't get to be jealous.

Luckily, the imp rolled out a rack of dresses, it was stuffed to the brim, but was still a more manageable collection compared to the entire room. You sifted through them, and each one that twisted your face, she took off the hanger and set aside. After narrowing it down, you were stuck on two dresses; a sultry red dress, with an incredibly high slit and a stretched velvet material that hugged you in all the right places. Definitely a head turner. Even if this gala had a V.I.P list, maybe some handsome individual could help you distract yourself.

But the other option was a glistening lavender color, the neckline went across your shoulders, turning to gloves that tapered at your knuckles. A sheer corset held your curves in place, and it was paired with pearl accessories, to go with your sleek white heels. Both were gorgeous of course, but turning your hips and taking in how you looked in that lavender gown.. you could see yourself fitting quite nicely into your mental picture of Lucifer and Charlie. You would never admit that's why you picked it. You were prettied up, your hair pulled to one side with pearl clips scattered within the strands, and a little touch of makeup that you really didnt want, but was convinced without a word by the stylist. You looked like royalty. And that made you feel good in so many ways.

—

Lucifer said you could "sneak in", and you thought it best to take that literally. Waving and greeting all the workers in the kitchen that you knew, you finally slipped through the door where the caterers traveled from. You went straight for the bar, not because you needed a drink - well, I'm sure that's part of it - but because you had no idea what to do. What, were you supposed to walk straight up to Lucifer? Or Lillith? The idea of seeing Lillith suddenly made your stomach churn. You realized that you actually got there in time to see the introductions for most of the more esteemed guests. They went through the sins, who were larger than life, then a flared announcement for the Morningstar family was belted out.

Lucifer stood with a devilish grin, looking handsome as always. Lillith was still stunning, her gown trailing behind her.. but it was black. It wasn’t purple, or plum, or lilac, it was just black. It may not have looked like a contrast to everyone, but it upset you for some reason. Charlie stood between them, looking incredibly calmed considering the intensity of the moment. Lillith was holding her small hand, but the difference in height made her strain to keep their fingers intertwined. You cringed watching her stand on the tip of her toes to keep contact with her own mother.

Quietly, as to not interupt the announcements, you beckoned the bartender to bring you a drink. You sat and sipped, your back arched as you leaned your weight onto your elbows. What were you doing here? Was this all worth it? To have your little Cinderella transformation? 

"Hello, darling.. and who might you be?" A sultry voice came from behind, causing you to swivle in the chair to face where it came from. It wasn't Lucifer, which left you mildly disapointed, but you definitely weren't upset at the curvy woman standing in front of you, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. The swishing demonic tail wasn't something you hated either. A real fox.

"Oh, a friend invited me, I didnt want to cramp his style, so here I am." As you spoke, the bartender brings a tall flute of champagne over to the gorgeous demon in front of you. She glides to sit in the seat next to you. "Hm - well, I'd hate to see you all alone tonight, mind if I keep you company, love?" She slid her fingers up your arm and you have no idea how you managed to keep your cool. "Not at all~" maybe it was the confidence of your new appearance, but you had no issue with spending the night with this stranger.

All of a sudden, Charlie was plopped into your seated lap, causing you to look up towards an intimidating Lucifer. Examining the sudden shift in mood, you were relieved to see Lillith talking to some demons on the other side of the room. "Glad you could make it! Charlie here - reeaally missed you, thought I should say hi." He smile was forced, you noticed a slight twitch in his eye. "Ah, I see you've met my nanny! Quite a beauty, wouldn't you agree?" Lucifer came incredibly close to you, leaning in and placing his hand on your back. The only issue was the low cut of the dress, allowing you to feel his warm hands on your skin. You hoped he didn't feel the shiver run up your spine.

Taking a hold of Charlie as she climbed up your lap to hug your neck, you let out a natural laugh, feeling like yourself for the first time tonight. Looking back to your conquest, who was definitely about to ask you to "get out of here", you see a face of absolute disgust. Oh, right. You're just a sinner to these higher ups. And a working class one at that. Nanny wasn't the most flattering occupation apparently. She made a terrible excuse to get out of the conversation and walked away a little faster than she should've.

"Sir! I have no problem watching Charlie tonight, but - I was about to -" your face flushed as you tried to explain how you were just trying to get laid tonight. “Get a drink, right? Make sure you stick to the non-alchoomic stuff, hun, sounds like Charlie gets to stay up late tonight!" With a hefty pat on your back, Lucifer stepped away to talk to another random demon. What the fuck? Lucifer had beckoned the bartender over again, and when you looked back to the counter, you see a sad looking soda water. With a sigh, you guzzle the drink just to wet your dried throat.

As much a you loved Charlie, there was no better chick repellant. And even for the brave souls who decided to approach you and still show interest, Lucifer would suddenly appear, keeping his hand just above your tailbone as he mentioned your hard work as his employee. Maybe it was the word nanny, or the intimidating presence of the king of Hell, but he had to be doing this on purpose. You kind of hoped he was doing this on purpose.. After one too many fleeting suitors, you worked your magic and calmed Charlie until she fell asleep in your arms. You hummed a little tune again, the method was something she became accustomed to after you started taking care of her.

"My my~ what a sweetheart." A broad shouldered demon approached you, his lower voice ringing throughout your chest. "Isn't she? She's exhuasted, I should really get her to bed." You never took your eyes off of Charlie, making it easy for him to slip a hand around your waist." Ah, you’re her caretaker, hm? Well.. what do you have going on after you get her to bed?" His hand trails down to your hips, starting to trace a circle with his thumb. You swung away, a look of disgust on your face." Probably going to bed. By myself." You hissed. You never had a problem handling those kind of advances, and you'd do anything to keep Charlie safe, so you kept your distance. "You don't have to do that, baby~ why don't you show me around the Morningstar manor?" He closed the distance, and as you go to step back, your back hits the bar. "N-No thanks, I'm.. not..." You would have gotten nervous in the moment, if you didnt see a blonde headed angel approaching with horns threatening to burst out.

"Stay away from her." A small puff of flames came from Lucifer's snarl as he reprimanded the thug. He scoffed and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Probably the smartest thing for him to do at this point. Lucifer's suddenly glowing red eyes returned to their normal hue once he turned his attention to you. You froze in place. It felt like you were in trouble too. "You're okay?" He spoke blankly, you couldn't tell what emotion he was trying to convey, let alone how he actually feels. You nodded, keeping a hand on the back of Charlie's head." Get her to bed." With a dramatic turn, his transparent cape flew behind him and he returned to Lillith's side. He placed his hand on the small of her back.

You wanted to cry. To scream and drink until you can't think of anything. Charlie was your main priority, though. You took her to her nursery as soon as you could. Carefully changing her into her pajamas, a cute little onesie with ducks printed all over, then placed the drowsy toddler into her bed. "Oh Charlie.. You are so lucky to be so loved." You spoke geniunely, no matter your feelings, the amount of love Charlie is given and how much she gives in return was always so unbelievable to you. She was made of pure joy. Brushing some hair away from her face, you stepped back, taking your time on returning to your room.

"That is so sweet." You shot your head up, unpleasantly surprised by Lucifer's sorry face. "She's in bed, what do you need from me?" You spoke softly, as to not wake her. "You look beautiful. I just.. didn't get a chance to say that earlier, is all." Your face twisted in digust. "You know, you weren't the only one who thought that tonight. That was the first time I've been hit on in months. Couldn't you let me just enjoy the night..?" You were becoming increasingly frustrated, and it was translating clearly through your words. He flinched at your aggression, suddenly becoming defensive.

"That filfthy demon was feeling you up..! What else did you want me to do?" He started to match your energy, quietly responding in an aggitated state." Not him, the rest! I was about to leave with that lady at the bar, and I'm sure others would've enjoyed my company if I wasn't getting handed a toddler every second." You'd regret that one later, referring to Charlie as just a toddler. "That's your job, dear. Remember why you're here." He puffed out his chest, becoming increasingly close to your figure. You shrunk away, your eyes widened at his words.

"Oh- Oh, no, I didn't mean to - wait, I wasn't - " He stammered, his intimidating stature immediatly dropping as he say your eyes start to glaze over with tears, which only flowed down your cheeks after batting your made-up lashes. "Nonono! Please don't cry I - um.. " his eyes darted around the room, before reaching his arms out and reeling you in to a tightening embrace. Your chin sat on his shoulder, the shock momentarily keeping the water works at bay.

"I got nervous, okay..? I didn't want anything.. bad... to happen. I didn't want to lose you in there." Those words shouldn't tug at your heart strings at much as they did, but that and the low rumble of his voice just slightly hitting your ear made it impossible.

"I-I can handle myself.." You sniffled, your breath becoming heavier as you felt his hands start to explore your back. He rested one hand on the small of your back, sending a familiar warmth to your chest. But then, his fingers traced upwards, holding onto your shoulders for a moment, before lightly clawing down your bare back. He traced over a certain spot that tickled you the wrong  way, causing you to force out a little yelp. You both stopped for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the uneven pants coming from your mouths. He pulled away for a moment, keeping his hands on your shoulders. Then eyeing you up and down, he ran his grasp across the length of your arms. "I known you can.. you're wonderful." He somehow spoke as if he was completely unaffected by the intimacy he was just showing you. Your breath only picked up more, instantly regretting what you were about to do.

With a small leap, you pulled him in by his collar and messily met his lips. It couldn't be a quick peck, that's too confusing. You wanted this to last forever. He kept his lips sealed shut at first, but that didn't last long. With a shakey breath against your lips, he pulled you in by your waist suddenly, bringing you as close to him as he could. The motion took the air out of your lungs, forcing you release a vocal sigh. He only held you tighter after that. Your arms trailed up and around his shoulders, combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He broke for a moment, his kisses traveling down your lips to your jawline, then down to your neck.

Flicking your hair back, he latched an incredibly wet kiss on the softness of your neck. Lucifer took the invitation of your strapless dress to fully cover you in kisses, occasionally running his tongue up the length of your neck. A panting mess, you pulled him back up by his chin, finally getting a good look at his face. He was falling apart at the seems. He looked desperate to get back to working on your neck, like he hadnt been intimate with anyone in years. You needed his lips against yours again. Holding his jaw, you pressed a kiss on his lips, then squeezed your thumb amd index finger to open his lower jaw and push your tongue into his mouth. He let out a nervous moan, before quickly catching up to you.

This wasn’t right. This part wasn't in your mental picture of a perfect family. And you knew why. Your thoughts were silenced, feeling his mouth trail back down to your collarbone. He thumbed at the top of your long glove, beginning to pull it down. God, never let this moment end.

But you forgot. You're in Hell.

With a frantic patting on his shoulder, you quickly attempted to get his attention. When Lucifer met your eyes again, they had gone wide, and he finally noticed you shaking. "Hey, hey! What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes." He froze. He slowly turned his head to the door. Lillith.

—

"Darling, please, I'm sorry, you know you're the only one for me - it was a long night, mistakes were made, let's just move on, hm..?" He was begging for this moment to be over, as Lillith moved past him and approached you. You had to crane your neck to look at her, your entire body trembling. You had mascara running down your eyes, and your lipstick had smeared in all directions. Lillith lifted your head up even further, wiping some smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Lily..?" Lucifer let out softly. She let out a soft sigh. She didn't seem to be angry, which seemed to make you more nervous than if she was. "D-Don’t.. don't hurt her..." It's like he was scared to stick up for you. That, and the fact that he just called this past interaction a mistake, weighed heavily on your heart. "You think that little of me, my love? I would never. It was a mistake, after all, just as you said." She spoke so calmly but knew exactly what to say to make you cower in fear. You let out a pathetic whimper, "P-Please... I'm s-sorry, Your Highness..." She smiled and tightened her grip on your jaw for a moment before letting you go. You didn't realize she was actually lifting you up slightly until you were dropped down. “So.. we can talk and figure this out, right? Lily?" She kept her eyes off of the anxious mess that Lucifer was becoming." Of course, love. We'll talk in the morning. Oh, and obviously - " She turned towards you just before leaving the room. 

"You're fired.”

—

HA

Anyway, there is absolutely a part 2 for this don't worry and I'll get to it.. eventually.

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )

[cemeterything]

perhaps even less relevant than the anon you got to listen to archive 81 by mentioning it once, you have quite literally never mentioned this podcast where i can see it (but you strike me as someone who mightve been listening when it was relevant...) but all this talk of horror/weirdfiction podcasts finally got me curious enough to go back and check out the Original Weirdfiction Podcast Hit, Welcome to Night Vale. i might be 12 years late on it, but im only 14 episodes in and can tell why this affected the ecosystem the way it did

oh yeah i was crazy about night vale back in the day, especially cecil (to the point i actually considered naming myself cecil when i was choosing a new name lol). it almost definitely influenced my writing/humour style, and was a huge source of comfort to me growing up, and looking back it's amazing how much impact it had on the podcast medium in general. i haven't listened to it in a while, but the old episodes still hold up, and if i ever decide to revisit it i imagine it'll touch me just as much as it did when i was younger, only perhaps different parts of me, in different ways. i'm glad you're enjoying it, it's a classic for a reason!

[ilsole]

Stupidly in Love

A flourish of ribbons fly in the air as a certain jester lays out a nifty little fabric square upon fresh grass, a clearing within a great field, the forest behind, sun in the sky, birds singing their little theatre songs.

Fool gave a synthetic breath in, before turning to his companion.

Misuta glared up at the bright skies above, before he himself turned to Fool, a slight look of confusion coming to his face.

"When you asked if we could go out together, I wasn't expecting... this."

Fool gave the man a cheshire smile.

"Why not? A beautiful day to spend with someone I hold so nice and dear to the heart?"

Misuta sat down in a huff, but Fool had noticed those flushed cheeks immediately.

"... It... is nice today, you're right."

"As I am so often~"

Fool deftly landed on his behind beside Misuta, twirling his baton in his limber hands before settling it down upon the blanket beneath.

Today, there'll be no sun nor moon, just him and the heart stealer beside him.

Oh yes...

"What's in the basket? We can't eat..."

Misuta asks a very promising question, responded to with a curved eye smile.

"Oh, my sweet man~ I'm very glad you asked!"

Fool reaches out, lugging the basket closer before popping the lid up, exposing its treasures like a trove untold.

"Books-?"

"I know how much you love reading, so, I may have sneaked a few books from our little Sweetling~"

A leer was sent the fool's way.

"You stole from them."

'Not unlike how you stole my heart', Fool was so close to saying the words on his very lips, yet he refrained, it was too soon.

"No, no, this fool would never go so low. My... what do you take me for?"

Fool had leant back, a hand to his chest in mock offense, yet he peeked open an eye to view Misuta as silence ringed between them.

Crossed arms met him, a single raised eyebrow with the most unamused expression greeted him in return.

"A thief."

"You hurt me."

"Good."

To anyone else, it'd be rude, but the two shared a coupling laughter.

Misuta would reach into the basket, pulling out the top book.

'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe'

Misuta hummed in thought, sitting back on a palm as he flipped open the hardcover entertainment, eyes already starting to flitter over the words and read.

Fool picked up his own book, yet he knew he wouldn't be reading, for his attention was taken by another, just as intriguing, thing.

Minutes passed, a comfortable silence settling between the two, one reading, the other attempting.

Fool took in no information, his gaze glancing up to the source of his warmth and love that had spiraled way out of his control.

He wanted to reach out, hold Misuta close to him and never let go, yet there was something holding him back, he wasn't sure...

"Fool...?"

Misuta was looking up at him, why was he so close suddenly? Fool shifted an arm, realizing exactly what was going on.

In his little daydream, he had indeed gotten closer to Misuta, their bodies touching, and Fool's arm had wrapped around Misuta's back, fingers a breath away from his waist.

Fool brought his mismatch up, meeting Misuta's own fuchsia.

"I-I..."

For once, Fool was speechless, his smile drooping at the corners as a flood of nerves was thrust upon him, he's sure he'd be sweating if he could.

He was frozen in place, staring, fake heart pounding with real love, one he felt when around the man in his arms, and the precious Sweetling.

Time stilled as the two stayed in their places, like deer under a scope, they were too nervous to move.

Until Misuta's eyes flicked down.

Fool took that as a sign.

He leant in, lips pressing to Misuta's so softly, he'd have melted, and felt like he would when the pressure was returned soon enough.

Fool's book fell to his lap as he brought a hand up to caress Misuta's face, a small order to stay where he was, yet neither of them wanted to pull away, not even for a second.

They caressed each other, eyes closed as they laid in their shared embrace, an arm tightening around a waist, pulled closer.

Until, they parted, while they had no breath to lose, they still wanted to see one another.

Eyes opened, and their love filled eyes met once more, a deeper understanding now felt within the two.

"Cariad… I… Rwy'n dy garu di…"

Misuta blinked at the foreign words before a soft laugh escaped his lips, and he presses another kiss to Fool's own.

"私も愛しているよ."

A mutual agreement of love, Fool almost couldn't believe it.

He wrapped his other arm around Misuta, hoisting the man upon his awaiting lap, making sure Misuta couldn't escape his grasp now that he was finally his.

"Oh… thank the very Heavens…"

Fool whispered into Misuta's neck, a sigh escaping the man as arms wrapped around his neck.

"Fool…"

"Mm… already with the pet names?"

Misuta rolled his eyes, though his amusement was as clear as the very sky they were under.

"Idiot."

"So mean to me…~ How could you be so rude to your boyfriend~"

They both stilled at that, realization dawning on each of their faces. Boyfriend.

They… are together.

They're in love.

A fluffy hood buried itself into Fool's chest, a heat being felt through Fool's flowy shirt.

"バカ…バカ…バカ…バカ…"

Fool laughed his sweet bird song laugh, his arms bringing Misuta closer to him even still, offering comfort to the flustered man.

"Mm… your stupid."

Stupidly in love.

For @venomous-qwille's gorgeous au Ghost in the Machien that hosts the best characters I've seen written in fiction and have my heart in a death grip <3

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God (Part 3)

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Ch Summary: Elain questions Azriels whereabouts. While Rhys places a target on your back after you seek the help of two other Death Gods.

Or

Azriel touches what does not belong to him and craves more.

word count: 5.6k

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, attempted SA, angst, hurt/comfort, light smut, war, including injuries, fighting, sign language, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I had the tickle to write smut so I give you crumbs…for now. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

*quote from the chaos of stars

~~

Khaos was to be one of the many shooting stars that showered the Night Court skies. The Night Court would be celebrating Starfall, their yearly event to star gaze as spirits made their migration. Had she made her destination they would recognize her as one of their own and welcome her with open arms. Except for the first time the Night Court had in possession four instruments of conquest. The harp, mask, crown, and the horn, commonly known as the Dread Trove; Therefore diverting her journey to The Autumn Court.

~~~~~~~~

Bryaxis roared as he agreed to fight in the war. The reason for the blast; a form of communication, letting you know his end of the bargain was done. A bargain made with the High Lady cementing his plans- your plans. He requested a window below the library to see the sun and stars and most importantly lightning, conjured by you of course. Gods did he enjoy the spectacle, your wrath illuminating the dark sky striking fear and anxiety in peoples bones. The thrill of watching their faces as they waited for that crack of thunder. The sadist in him couldn't wait to be unleashed and bear witness to your fury, cracking of bones and screams in terror. The sweet scent of blood splattered throughout the field. He was giddy with excitement.

Azriel had rushed to the house of wind only to find the inner circle gathered in the sitting area. “Az! I’m so glad you're safe. Feyre and I figured out why the house was so moody.” Elain bounced over to her lover, wrapping her arms around Azriels neck, bringing his mouth to hers in an endearing kiss, running her tongue along the seam of his lips. Azriels arms remained at his sides, as she embraced him. His brows furrowed when she attempted to deepen the kiss.

He had just held you in his arms moments ago, your frame tucked closely within the shelter of his wings. Just the two of you and no one else existed at that moment. Not the flying of splintered bark or decayed leaves from the blast, or the dust, heavy with smoke and mist. He just saw you. Felt the power in your veins, saw the moon and all its stars in your eyes, the ruler of the skies and ruler of his mind.

He already missed the way the stars danced in your eyes as you looked up at him. He wanted to see his shadows dance along glittered starlight, not dirt covered flower beds and baked goods.

Azriel didn’t allow Elain to deepen the kiss, instead he broke apart from her eager mouth and gently pulled her arms from around his neck. “Elain I think we sho–”

“You smell different,” Elain interrupted, sniffing around Azriels chest and neck trying to find the source. “Just stepped on an orange on my way here,” he replied, rubbing the back of his tense neck. Her eyes narrowed, not trusting a single word out of his mouth.

Azriel met Nestas cold glare, a slight shake to her head followed. He was being put on the spot in front of his whole family. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead, wiping his clammy hands along his thighs, he started towards the stairs, “I’m gonna go shower.”

“I’ll join you!” Elain exclaimed, reaching for Azriels hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He silently begged for someone to stop her. To pull her away from what he knew she wanted, what he’s been giving her for the past six months. For anyone to suddenly need her so he could enjoy the scent of your body a little longer. So he could aggressively fist his cock and imagine he was fucking your throat instead.

Slowly Azriel climbed the steps, each step creaked as the wood carried their weight closer to their bedroom. He’d have to imagine it was you instead of her. Your mouth pressed against his lips as he swallowed your moans, hands trailing down your stomach till he reached your wet cunt. Your perfect body pressed against the shower wall as he sheathed himself inside you, taking you over and over and over–

“Azriel? Did you hear me?” It was Cassian that broke his thoughts.

“Sorry, zoned out for a bit. What did you say?”

“Rhys wants to debrief you.” Cassian jerked his head to Rhys' office.

“Now?” Elain whined, “can’t it wait for morning? It’s late.”

“No, he’s right Elain. Better now that it's fresh in my mind.” Azriel didn’t know if he should thank Cassian, the mother or the Gods for sparing him. Elain began to speak again but it was Azriel who seemed to read her thoughts, “don’t wait up,” he finished; releasing her hand that she so tightly held.

Not sparing her a second glance, Azriel followed Cassian to Rhys office, his shoulders more relaxed than before and his shadows seemed to have calmed down. Throwing his arm around Azriels shoulders in brotherly love, Cassian leaned in close and whispered, “you fucken owe me asshole. Now tell me all about her.”

Azriel tried to play it off with a smirk, but a wide smile danced on his lips. He’d get to stroke his cock to the thought of you after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel didn’t sleep in the room he shared with Elain, her once alluring scent now seemed too sweet. Her hands were suddenly too rough from pruning rose thorns and the leftover dirt beneath her nails made him sick.

He knew he needed to find the time to break things off. Cassian had told him that much. It wasn’t fair to lay next to Elain while he dreamed of you. Although Azriel didn’t divulge too much to Cassian about his fantasies, which wasn't the case when it came to Elain.

With Elain he had told Cass every dirty detail, how many times, positions and even sounds. He knows it was wrong. Didn’t think much of it before, as it was spoken between brothers and no one else. It would be different with you though. You were different. He was going to do it tonight. Tonight he would break things off with Elain and devote his efforts in getting to know you.

~~~~~~~

There were strong wards surrounding the Prison in the Night Court, used to prevent anyone from winnowing inside or flying to the entrance. The power needed to pass through the wards was more than you expected. It wasn't till you reached the stone gate that you realized that only the High Lord of the Night Court's blood would open the gate, something that you couldn't manipulate or conjure. You pinched the space between your brows in irritation as you thought of a way to bypass the blood sacrifice. Starting small in order to regain your power you attempted to push at the stone gate, hoping that it would just topple over. It didn't. Since the prison was on a cavernous mountain perhaps a little quake would loosen the rock and stone exposing the entrance for you to just strut right in.

You knelt in front of the stone gate, both knees firmly planted in soil and moss. You closed your eyes to focus on your magic. The sea breeze caressed your wind-chapped cheeks as you listened to the roar and crash of waves when they met the edge of the mountain. You summoned the power of the land through your fingers, plunging them deep into the soil in front of you. With a roar that echoed the strong ocean waves the mountain trembled in fear. The more your arms quivered in pain the deeper your fingers dug into the ground. Every inch rooted into the land caused the mountain rock to shrivel and rumble till small cracks webbed along the stone gate.

Azriel and Cassian were in the middle of breakfast when the floor beneath them swayed side to side, followed by a rolling motion. Dishes broke into pieces as they crashed to the floor, glass and sharp porcelain scattered the ground. Rhys urgently summoned them mind to mind.

There's a breach at the prison, get over here now before she releases them all.

Azriel and Cassian shared a look before they scrambled into their leathers and sheathed their most effective weapons, knives, daggers and swords, preparing for the worst.

Small cracks etched along the stone wall but it wasn't enough to open the gate. With your power almost completely drained you called upon the light. Seconds from opening your eyes to wield a crack of lightning a cool tendril wrapped around your wrist, carrying the smooth echo of ‘Please don’t do this’ in the whisper of Azriels voice.

The soothing touch jolted you. Your eyes shot wide open long enough to see the sky illuminate in a bright flash. A loud roaring sound boomed through the air as a violent strike of lightning slammed into the stone gate, crumbling it to pieces.

When you looked down to your trembling hands submerged in the rich soil, black tendrils seeped from the ground, wrapping up your arms and cooling your hot skin. “I think you like playing with fire don’t you?” Dusting the dirt from your hands you caressed the little shadow and quickly made your way inside the prison, looking at the sky one last time just in case you couldn't make it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello Bone Carver.” You smiled at your old friend, “Remember that favor you owe me?”

The Bone Carver just rolled his dark eyes. “Whatever you're going to ask me, the answer is yes.”

You beamed, “thank you.”

It had been easier getting out of the mountain than getting in, a flaw in the protection wards you’d fix before you left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel trekked up the mountain you were long gone. Upon entering the prison Azriel was easily able to follow your scent which led him to the Bone Carvers cell. Rhys entered and excused the other two males.

“You sure you know what you're getting yourself into brother?” Cassian questioned, glancing at Azriel with his eyebrow raised. Azriels brows creased as he tilted his head, not understanding what he meant. “She almost leveled a fucking mountain. I love you brother, but I don't think you can handle her,” Cassian smirked, “but I know I can.”

Azriel snorted. They had shared females in the past accidentally and sometimes in the same room. “She’s different Cass. Touch her and I’ll cut off your hands.”

“Don’t need my hands to fuck her Az.” Cassian threw his head back and howled in laughter as Azriel punched his shoulder in jest.

Rhys walked out of the cell and stared at Azriel as if he knew something Azriel didn’t. His violet eyes bore into hazel ones with a look of sympathy, knowing what lay ahead for Azriel.

“What did he say?” Azriel nervously asked.

Rhys didn’t answer as he turned his back away from him, starting his walk back down the mountain. Cassian and Azriel shared a glance, a look of worry in both their eyes.

Back in Velaris, Rhys paced back and forth, his knuckles white from clenching them into fists. The violet of his eyes black with rage.

“She knows about Velaris and can easily bypass the protection wards. Now she knows how to get in and out of the prison. Find her before I do because I'll fucking kill her.” Rhys' tone was low and deadly like a viper ready to strike.

Without another word Azriel set out to find you, again. But this time he was determined to get answers. No more riddles, no distractions. There was a pattern he picked up on. You seemed to befriend the deadlier creatures of Prythian, The Suriel, Bryaxis somehow, and now The Bone Carver. Azriel set his sights on the middle of Prythian where the weaver Stryga was confined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Work out of your home Court was almost complete, the allies that you needed were aware of their duties and were loyal to your mission. Your limbs ached and burned from your travels across multiple courts, the only thing bringing you a sense of peace was this last stop. Possibly the worst, not the person you had to visit but the stench alone turned your stomach.

The severed head in the sac you carried grew heavier and heavier as your final destination grew closer. Crimson stained your clothes leaving them stiff and rough against your delicate skin. Your hair has clumped from the dirt and blood, it’d been days since you had a nice bath. You open and close your mouth as the sour taste of decayed flesh hits your taste buds. Food wasn't easily available but the horrid smell had you doubling over, emptying what was left from your stomach. Sweat now beads down the side of your face. Heavy eyes spot the weavers cottage in the distance. Finally you think.

“Stryga!” You shout, as you rap at the wooden door, “open up!”

Strygas feet shuffle to the door, “must you shout? I’m blind not deaf you insubordinate buffoon,” she scolds as she swings the door open.

Thankfully she doesn't see the way your face falls as you hold in your gag. “I missed you too Stryga.” She beckons you inside, her arm extended towards her cluttered home. “I don't mean to be rude, but I’m in a hurry. It’s not far from now Stryga. You’ll still be able to eat your fill of evil males,” you declare, handing her your sac with the severed head. “I’m going to kill him, both of them. Don’t you worry. Your neck still remains attached to your spine. But I’ll need some help and I’d love nothing more if you fought by my side.”

Stryga lowers her head and you witness her undying loyalty as she motions to kneel before you. “That's unnecessary,” you attempt at grabbing her arm, stopping her bow.

“It would be a pleasure to unleash my wrath for you Khaos, Goddess of creation and decreation,” Stryga pledges as she remains within your grasp. “So, not a buffoon then?” you stifle a laugh at her earlier jab, and for the first time in your presence Stryga smiles.

“No one calls me that anymore.” You remind her, a wave of sadness crossing your eyes as you remember your mission and how far you are from home.

“Buffoon? Or khaos?” She smirks as you throw her a faux glare.

Stryga suddenly stiffened, her ear catching a faint whisper as she tilted her head. Her clawed fingernails digging into the worn wood of the door.

“Stryga?” You whispered, peering behind you at the dozens of trees that seemed unmoving.

“Shadows follow you.” She brings her forefinger to her lips, shushing you, “non threatening it seems,” her brows furrow, "they're captivated.” Her soulless eyes widen as they seem to meet your gaze. “The shadows have stolen from you.”

You don’t have time for her to elaborate. Quickly making you exit and excusing yourself, she shocks you with her parting words. “Do you know what it takes to make a star shine?”

You shake your head as if she can see you. “Darkness,” she replies. “I knew that,” you answer as you take steps away from her cottage, eager to leave before the shadows master finds you. “Then why do you run?” She retorts, crossing her arms as she braces against the frame of her door, a smug expression on her deadly face.

You don't spare her another glance but her words linger long after you've left her cottage. With your work away from home finally done you winnow to your home court, disappearing in a cloud of glitter and smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You inhaled the crisp air, holding it in your lungs for three seconds before exhaling. Calming your racing heart and releasing the power that traveled through your veins. You smile briefly as the pressure of water against your body washes away days of dirt and blood. Finally letting your limbs relax, stretching your arms high above your head, reaching for the blue sky wanting nothing but to hold the warmth of the sun. In the peaceful silence of the forest you give yourself a moment of weakness. You allow the ache that's burrowed deep within your heart to break free from its prison. Your body’s screaming for a day a week or even a few hours of rest, where shifting isn't needed, and glamouring your true form doesn’t eat up most of your power. Where wars dont need to be fought and kings don’t need to die. You let your strength rest; to feel your pain shatter the windows to your soul for just a moment.

~~~~~

Azriel followed the sound of hushed whimpers, his shadows jumping from tree to tree. The soft cries soon turned harrowing then muffled, like a palm over the mouth.

‘Broken’

His shadow informed him.

Taking cover in the darkness below a large tree he heard the faint weeping, the sudden scent of citrus invading his nostrils. Your shoulders shook with the force of your cries as you cleaned off your wings. Azriel tried to look away from your bare back as you bathed beneath the mouth of a waterfall. Immediately he noticed your wings, two forewings and two hindwings that tapered towards the end like those of a luna moth.

You can shapeshift, he realizes, the large expanse of your wings covering your behind from view, leaving Azriel curious. But why were you crying? You didn't seem broken like his shadows had mentioned. That's when he saw it. Blood. You were cleaning off blood from your wings. Someone you had just killed he imagines. No, It was your blood. At the base of your wing closest to your back a large slash cut deep, almost severing your wing.

“You’re hurt, I can help you.” His voice rang out over the rushing water, slowly inching forward so as to not seem threatening. Frightened by his sudden appearance you vanish before his eyes, leaving a cloud of shimmering powder, momentarily blinding him. Weaving through the darkness of the in-between, you swiftly emerge, tackling Azriel to the ground, unsheathing his own dagger in the process.

Clothed in nothing but a thin nightgown, you straddle him, truth teller firm in your grip pushing against the column of his throat. His shadows swirled above your head creating a crown of darkness as if you were their queen. Azriel narrowed his eyes, ‘traitors.’

“Why have you looked for me?

Azriels speechless as he beholds your beauty, ignoring your question. His eyes wander over each of your features as if committing to memory. His hazel eyes land on your pouty lips and his throat bobs as his desire consumes him. Instinctually his pink tongue darted out to wet his lips, just in case.

“Why have you looked for me?” You repeat, forcing his dagger against his jugular, a bead of blood painting his tan skin. Azriel smirked, the thrill of a dangerous female only exciting him, causing the scent of his arousal to fill the air. “You plan to kill me with my own blade?”

“I could kill you without it.” You counter, the force of your power sizzling through your fingers.

Azriels eyes flutter closed, the scent of his arousal drifting to your nose, a husky scent with a touch of night. “So the rumors are true,” Azriels brows furrow, “the shadowsinger playing hero to a damsel in distress, bedding any female that bats her eyes.”

Azriel then twists his foot around your ankle, using his weight to roll you over onto your back. You drag the blade across his throat as he tumbles you to the ground. His hand firmly grips your throat while the other wraps around your wrist, pinning you to the forest floor. With his knees firm on the ground, caging your hips, your legs resting on top of his thighs, making it easy for you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Who told you that?” He asks angrily, blood dripping down his throat from the shallow slash you gave him.

“Eris Vanssera '' you gasp, the slight pressure of his fingers around your throat arousing you more than it should. Yet the grip he holds on your wrists sends you in a panic as memories from your morning assault come crashing.

The males rancid breath makes your stomach churn as he licks at your cheek. The whole weight of his grotesque body has you pinned down, barely able to wriggle out from under him. With one hand he holds your wrists down above your head as the other fumbles with his belt.

Mid-flight he had collided into you, both barreling out of the sky crashing to the ground. Furious, he had attempted to sever your rare wings. The impact of your fall momentarily ceasing your powers, causing you to fight hand to hand.

Your crying only eggs him on, excitement in his rotten attempt at a smile. You're not sobbing out of fear. No. You mourn the life you have to take. You mourn every life, weather deserved or not. The spark that creates life remains. Rooted deep within you, pushed to the side in order for darkness to prevail.

Loyal to your duties as a Death God by any means necessary, you sucked in the secretions from your lungs and violently spat. Thick mucus covered the fat bastard's face, briefly losing his grip, giving you just enough time to unsheath your knife and drive into his thick skull. Later, you’d gift his remains to a dear friend.

Azriels eyes widened with shock as he felt a sharp pain shooting through him. Grunting and hissing he clutches his side, finding Truth teller lodged deep into his rib, warm blood dribbles from the wound staining the ground he's crouched at. “ Did you just stab me?” he chokes out, wincing as he pulls the dagger free, fingers splayed wide attempting to stop the bleeding.

Scrambling out from under him, chest heaving as the adrenaline flows through you. “You’ll live,” you pant as you stand, dusting off browned leaves from your back and knees. A sigh escapes your lips as you notice a blood stain on your white night dress. All you wanted was to wash up the violence that painted your skin and even then your efforts were futile. Azriels eyes trail up your body as he remains kneeled still putting pressure on his rib, his magic working to heal the open wound.

Anger courses through him as he zeros in on a purple bruise on your inner thigh, visible from how short your dress is. “Tell me who he is and I’ll kill him for you.” Those simple words had meant so much you almost cried at the gesture. While you slaughtered the bravest of males and brought warriors to their knees, destroyed kingdoms for unworthy kings, defended the defenseless not one person had offered to protect you. Countless times you had braved your own storm with not one soul willing to weather the chaos. Despite being used for your endless power, time and time again you still gave more than what you could ever receive in return. You save everyone but who was there to save you? You were one female and strong enough to fight your own battles and conquer without the help of highlords or kings. So why was this male cracking the shield of vulnerability wrapped so tightly around your heart?

Azriel seemed to notice your internal struggle, “come here,” he rasped as he stared through your troubled gaze. The tousled waves of his hair that fell so effortlessly over his forehead looked so enticing your fingers twitched. His hazel eyes had darkened and the way his thick thighs looked kneeling gripped you so fiercely your legs moved on their own volition. Standing on weak knees, his eyes never left yours as he patted his thigh, urging you to place your foot on his strong muscle. You obey his command with a slow nod. Azriel chances a glance at your exposed leg, “who do I have to kill?” He asks, softer this time. His bloodied fingers wrap around your delicate ankle and for once you don’t mind. Strong hands gently smooth over your leg, wrapping to the back of your calf. A shiver runs through you at the simple touch, his attentiveness relaxing your muscles. Slowly he lifts the hem of your gown, just enough to expose the bruise and nothing else. “Tell me whose entire family line should I butcher for touching you?” he murmured against your skin, circling your tender bruise with his perfect nose. “I killed him,” you breathe looking down at this male whose lips are inches away from your throbbing core.

“Mmmm good girl,” he growls, meeting your hooded gaze as he licks your inner thigh followed by a tender kiss. You nearly buckle at the sensation of his lips against your skin. The way his rough hands are caressing up and down the expanse of your leg. Lustful eyes roll back as he deeply inhales the sweet scent of your arousal, smothering his handsome face against the heated flesh of your leg like a house pet greeting their owner. “Let me worship you,” he purrs, his hot breath ghosting over your covered core as the tips of his fingers kiss the space between your legs. Azriel could cum right now just watching you throw your head back as you gasp from his fingers grazing your pulsing core. His pants are pulled tight from his cock pushing against his leathers, wanting to bury himself inside you. He’s willing to wait as long as you need but right now he’ll take whatever you give him.

When your eyes meet Azriels again you don’t miss the burning desire in his beautiful eyes or the outline of his bulge as it strains against his pants, suddenly it becomes too much too soon and before you know it you’ve shoved him away, the yearn clouding your vision clears and your back to being a powerful Death God.

“Is that what you tell the females you lay with? That you’ll worship their bodies like the Goddess they are?”

Azriel hangs his head between his dropped shoulders. Shame of his past finally catching up to him when it matters the most. When what he wants more than anything is threatened by his past mistakes. What was he thinking? Oh Gods and Elain. He was offering to please and bed you while he still hadn’t broken things off with Elain.

“You never answered my question. Why have you looked for me?”

Azriel remains silent.

“Did I offer a service which benefited you or your court?”

“Not exactly.” He answers

“Do you seek to use my power for your gain?” You continue, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“No”

“Do you seek treasure?”

“No” He replies with a scoff.

“You seek power then?”

Azriel shakes his head, “no, not power.”

“Knowledge?”

“Nope.”

“You do not pursue power, nor do you wish to bathe in coins, and knowledge is neither here nor there, so you must be searching for love?”

Azriel stilled.

“Ah, love it is. I regret to inform you, I cannot make someone love you.”

“That's not it. You healed me as a child. You were a stranger that showed me more kindness than my own family, and I've spent my entire life looking for you. Not to ask for more healing or to share your magic with others who may need you, but to offer my gratitude. All these years I’ve wondered what you’ve made of yourself, if you're happy, successful, have you found love or have you married or.. ” his gaze shies away, “or if you’re mated.” His tone is sincere, like he's been practicing those words for centuries.

You narrow your eyes at him, gauging whether he's telling you the truth or not, though you sense no lies. “What’s your name shadowsinger?”

“Azriel.”

“Azriel, I'm sorry but the person you're looking for doesn't exist anymore, but I’m even more sorry that I don’t recall this interaction.”

You watch as his expression sombers.

“I’m very flattered though,” you give him a tight lipped smile and get closer, deciding to sit next to him on the stone flat rock that rims the pool you were bathing in. Hoping to offer the same sincerity, you gently place your palm on his lap. “I suppose I can answer your questions, I feel it's the least I can do since you’ve indeed stalked me all these years.” Azriel chuckles remembering the night he said he wasn't a stalker. “I’m not happy, or successful where coin is involved. I have found love in all the faces I’ve seen and the wonderful friends I’ve made, but I’ve only loved one male.” while heat flushes your cheeks and a smile escapes your lips, Azriel frowns, unprepared for the hurt your answer would cause. “His name is Lucien, but –”

Azriel doesn't hear a word you say after that, the weight of your confession pinning him where he sits. Thank Gods for that because he's sure he’d topple over if he were standing. His mind imagines what Lucien had done for you to love him. What words did he use to make you sigh, what cheesy jokes he told to hear you laugh.

Does Lucien know that your skin feels like the finest silk known to man. Has he had the pleasure of kissing you and taking you to bed?

Azriel can feel his anger bubbling or jealousy he's not quite sure but he's unable to stop the hateful words from spewing out, “Lucien can’t love you, he has a mate! And she's pretty and sweet, she's sunshine and rainbows. She's gentle and soft.–”

“And everything I’m not.”

You finish as you swallow the tight knot in the back of your throat. You turn away from him, wiping at a stray tear that's rolled down your cheek. The truth in his words hurting you more than they should; since you’ve moved on. Lucien has too at least that's what you've heard.

Moving on doesn't cure the sadness or put together the broken pieces of your shattered heart. Forgetting Lucien doesn't erase the years of longing. You could never blame him for leaving you. Out of left field he grew distant, a silent struggle you knew nothing of. And you haven't seen him since.

Azriel places his scarred hand on your shoulder, an apology on the tip of his tongue as well as clarification for his words. He doesn’t get the chance as his touch burns your skin causing you to jolt and shrug him off. Azriel panics as he notices your red rimmed eyes, wet with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t..what I meant was-”

“No. You're right. How can someone like him love something like me?”

Azriel shakes his head. You thought of Lucien like the sun, brilliant and warm, setting fires to forest floors and warming the coldest of hearts. And you the moon, who only glows with the help of the sun. You had it all wrong. Lucien was just a sly fox sneaking his way into the heart of the moon. How could someone like him love something like you? The real question was how could he not love you?

Females like you were born during a raging storm under the phenomenon of an eclipse. With lightning in your veins, thunder in your heart and chaos in your bones.

He shouldn't feel hope in your sorrow but he’s glad Lucien didn’t choose you. Azriel would choose you; In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, he’d find you and he’d choose you.*

If he had the chance he’d rewind the clock and say what he actually meant. If not for a chance at forever then to ease your heavy heart. The words he spoke out of jealousy would hold a different meaning had he spoken them out of love.

‘Lucien can't love you the way I want to love you. He has a mate! So you were not made for him, but perhaps you were made for me. She’s pretty and sweet, sunshine and rainbows. But you balance strength and femininity like no one else. You're stunning, and selfless, you glow like the moon and shine brighter than the stars. She's gentle and soft but she can never compare to you. Not then, not now, not ever. No one has compared to you.’

But those words remain unspoken as he watches your figure retreat into the orange glow of the forest. Your beautiful wounded wings gracing the ground with your presence, leaving behind a trail of starlight. It was then he realized you didn't need to be saved, you needed to be found.

~~~~~~~~

You could cry tears of happiness as you near your humble cottage. Weaving through the tallest of trees and jumping over a running brook with flat rocks covered in moss. A sigh leaves your lips as you take in the place you call home. The wood creaks a familiar sound as you bounce up the worn steps.

Before your hand reaches the bronze knob, the door swings open and warmth envelopes you in a crushing hug. Your melodious laugh echoes in the air as strong arms spin you round and round. Your eyes meet those of amber as he finally lets your feet touch the floor. “I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, as a warm palm cradles your face, gently tracing circles on the apples of your cheek. He wraps his arm around your waist bringing your body flush with his. His heat offers a comfort not found with anyone else. And you allow yourself to melt into him as he softly brings his lips to yours.

His tender kiss turns desperate when you run your fingers through his auburn hair, lighting a fire that only the wetness between your legs can extinguish. The night runs long as this male beds you over and over and the only name that slips past your lips like a prayer is, “Eris. Eris. Eris.”

Part 4

A/n: The Vanserra brothers have entered the chat. 😏 what do you think happened between Lucien and Reader? any guesses?

taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit @dr4g0ngirl @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

[reidsc0nverse]

A Rose by Any Other Name (Chapter One)

Summary: Reader has her first day at the BAU in training to take JJ's place on maternity leave. She gets comfortable around the office with the help of her father Davis Rossi and the other members of the team, especially one specific genius.

Warnings: None

AN: This is my first real try at this idea that's been collecting dust in my brain, so far this chapter doesn't have a whole lot and it's mainly intro to the character but yeah. Also reader doesn't have Rossi's last name fyi and she's taking Jordans place in season 4 but they're not the same I promise.

Series Masterlist

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   Well, I knew the time was coming, just not so out of the blue.

   I was training under the Communications Liaison of the BAU today, Jennifer Jareau, due to the fact that she's leaving for maternity leave soon. 

  It was only a matter of time before my dad, him being THE David Rossi, pulled some strings to get me to that spot despite me barely finishing the academy. I mean, I rocked it, but they usually want someone of more...experience in a position as such.

But here I am, walking through the doors of the bullpen and Jennifer walking up to me with a friendly smile.

"Ah! Agent Y/L/N, glad to see you," she said cheerily, holding her hand out for me to shake it.

"You too" I say returning the gesture and trying to keep my composure and maintain the same cheeriness as her, but failing.

"Nervous?" She asks, seeing through me with ease but continuing to keep her friendliness and walking me to her office.

"No of course not" I say sarcastically with a playful smile on my face as we enter in the room filled with a vast amount of case files.

She motions for me to sit across from her at the desk and laughs softly, "Don't worry, after your first couple of cases it gets easier..ish." 

"I just hate the part of the job that involves dealing with the press" I admit, with the stuff I've heard from my dad I can understand the stigma around journalists and outside sources.

"Tell me about it, but you'll get the hang of it, it's usually just repeating yourself after a while." She replies and we continue to discuss more about the details of the job and what I'm gonna have to do in the next weeks. 

"Alright enough of this, everyone should be here by now. I'll introduce you to everyone." She says and we get up and out where three agents stand talking.

"Hey guys, I want to introduce you to someone. This is Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave." She says and I smile at the three that Jennifer has described to me.

I go to shake their hands, "You must be Agent Prentiss, Agent Morgan, and Dr. Reid." They all return smiles to me, "Agent Jareau has told me so much about you all."

"La mia bambina!" I hear a familiar voice say as I look over to see my dad, his arms stretched out and pulling me as he kisses my cheek. 

"Hi dad." I say sheepishly, my face burning as the agents in front of me furrow their eyebrows. 

"Dad?" Prentiss says and continues, "Does your last name come from wife number 2 or 3?" she jokes and Morgan laughs in response.

My dad waves them off and looks back to me, "Training start today?" I nod and he holds me with his arm over my shoulder. "Yeah if you can let me go I can finally start" I joke with him and he lifts his arm in response.

"Yeah Rossi, I'd like to get her started with that." Jennifer says playfully as I wave once again to the others when she brings me with her to look over a case before bringing it to the team.

"I may have forgotten to mention that part to them," She says, looking at the file in her hand. "Oh, what? That Rossi's my dad?" I ask, her nodding and I continue, "No worries, I don't think he's ever even brought up having a kid. One that he knows about at least. We haven't been that close in all honesty." I explain to her. It's really no big deal to me, he wasn't very present in my childhood but as I've gotten older, he's put in a lot of effort to be a part of my life even if it's a little late. Hence, my place at the BAU.

We spend the next hour going over cases and she guides me on how they decide where to go and whether or not the risk of more lives being lost is prominent. Once we settle on one she lets out a breath, "Alright let's take a break, I need to stop staring at all of this" she says motioning to the abundance of cases on the desk. I nod in agreement smiling and make my way to the break room for a cup of coffee.

"Agent Y/L/N, right?" I hear someone say as they walk in. I turn my head and see the tall stature of Dr. Reid.

"Yes, yeah. Hi." I say, waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing. He walks over and waits next to me with his empty mug. "But I don't really care about formal titles, you can just call me Y/N."

"Okay, Y/N. You can call me whatever, Spencer, Reid, I don't mind." He says gently and continues, "Rossi never mentioned he had a daughter. Let alone one coming onto the team."

"Temporarily" I remind him, but it's more to myself, "but I don't know how often he really wants to talk his personal life." I say lightheartedly and the coffee finally fills up my cup and I move over to let him use the machine.

Spencer shrugs and begins to make his own, "How long have you been in the FBI?"

At this I get nervous to respond, you can be as young as 23 to get into the FBI, but the BAU needs prior experience. But of course, my dad rushed the process some. "Well, uh, I kind of just finished the academy. I'm only 24 so there hasn't been much room for familiarity."

He looks at me with a slight surprise in his face, "Really? I mean if it makes you feel any better I started here as soon as I could. So in reality, you don't need all that much prior experience in the FBI to work here."

"Aren't you like, a genius though?" I laugh, Jennifer did tell me that about him.

He laughs and nods, "Well..you know what I mean. They make exceptions."

"Yeah, I suppose"

"Are you interested in profiling?"

"I only just recently figured that out." I laugh and explain further, "Psychology has always intrigued me and that's what I majored in, so once my dad figured that out he kinda shoved me into this field." I say, doing an exaggerated push motion absentmindedly.

He smiles and nods, "I think you should go for it, after this whole liaison thing of course, I wish you luck." He says and waves as he walks out. In that moment I can feel my face flush slightly, it wasn't that big of a deal but I guess I just wasn't expecting that sort of kindness on my first day.

I shake my head slightly and walk back to where Jennifer and I previously were.

She was already back on her side of the desk and reading a file, looking up she points at my cup, "Good thinking" she smiles and I take my seat again.

"I'd hate to think about how much coffee is drank in this building." I joke.

"Probably enough to supply a small country." she laughs and goes on, "Alright so I think you're pretty much all done for now, I don't think you'll be able to join us on the case but you can just get yourself used to the team if you want."

I nod and the day goes by with loads of 'how to's' around the office and in the perks of Jennifer's job. Sooner than later I get to go home and I get my stuff packed up and walk in the elevator.

The doors start to close but before it shuts completely, I see Spencer rush towards the elevator and I hold them open for him.

"Sorry- sorry." He says awkwardly as he gets in next to me. "How was your first day?"

"It was new. That's for sure. Just a whole lot of information on what I need to do." I say, fidgeting with my hair slightly.

"I'm not sure how much I can do, but if you need anything I know anyone on the team will help" He reassures me, and i smile back. "Thanks, really. I appreciate it."

"Of course." He smiles and the elevator opens up leading to the parking lot. "I'll see you later." He says and I smile back walking to my car.

I can feel the pink in my cheeks when I sit in the front seat and drive home.

I think I'm gonna like my time here.

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okay chapter two will be out sometime between today and next week I hope y'all like it so far ik it's not a lot but give it some patience lols

[batsvnte]

𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞 • 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing(s): Wally Darling

Sypnosis: you seem to not get enough of these phone calls you’ve been getting from Wally. Not like how he’s acting recently

Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, cursing, reader is 0.01% away from breaking something, also hints reader is progressively getting sick, ooc maybe, not proofread

Song used: Telephone by Lady Gaga

Word Count: 2K

Notes: black gender neutral!reader (they/them pronouns) with lovesick! Wally. Here’s my go at the lovesick au heunehueeb— the color for the lyrics are killing me but it’s fine. Also decided to go for the second person to see how this works. Au belongs to @halohelene on tik tok, characters belong to @/partycoffin

Not that I don’t like you, I’m just at a party

You wished that you realized sooner.

The little signs that was being given off ever since that rainy day that occurred few weeks prior to what was happening now. You recalled how drenched everyone became since they were out in the rain. One of your neighbors, Wally Darling, specifically. Two days later is when it started showing physically since he was coming out to less and less. The everyone concluded that he was down with an sickness that Wally came down with.

Lounging around in your home without anything planned for the day as usual. Though part of you was reluctant to hear knocking on your door, or the phone's ringing. Waiting for someone to talk to you and drag you to bring them into their fun shenanigans they have planned for the day. You often shake away the thought, wanting the day to be by yourself as some way to recharge yourself due to your social battery being inherently low for the past couple of days.

You were broken out of your thoughts the moment the phone rang. You nearly shoot up right out of your seat before relaxing, realizing it might be one of the neighbors calling you. You suspect it would be Sally since she's been recently calling you a lot. For advice on the plays she has written and notes that she rambles to you about scenes. All the usual stuff that you and Sally would talk about for hours.

"Hello? (L/N) speaking." It was like an automated line that is always said whenever the phone was picked up by you.

No answer. You thought that it was some mistaken call that was directed to you. You were about to speak again before your voice was caught up in your throat.

"Hello neighbor.."

Wally's voice filled your ear. You haven't talked to him in a long while which surprised you in the slightest. Part of you was relieved that he was calling you.

"Hey Wally!" A smile spread across your face. "I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling great, neighbor." Through his monotonous voice there was some bit of comfort for him through those words. "I'm so glad you picked up. I've missed your voice."

Here was the start of what you thought was to be a short conversation. Chatting about what you were doing the past couple of days and rambling about your interests to him. He didn't have much to say but he made it known that was listening to every single thing you said. Wally would often times thrown in compliments which caught you off guard. Maybe this was the first sign you needed to know.

"Look, Wally I need to go." It was your third reminder to him since you realized how long you've been in the phone for.

"What about the story? Can you tell me more about it, please?"

"I'll tell you soon."

"But–"

You didn't hear the rest of what he had to say due to bringing the phone away from your ear while uttering a quick bye before hanging up. You let out a soft sigh, not realizing how late it's gotten. The sun was already at its prime of setting, revealing only streetlights as its main source to see the outside world clearly. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you wondered what time it was. And how long you've been on the phone for.

And I am sick and tired of my phone ringing

Getting prepared for your night time routine you realized you weren't as tired as you thought to be. You just been staring up at the ceiling for the past consecutive hours of the night. You decided against your thoughts of attempted sleeping, getting up from your warm covers and into the chill air of your room.

You chose to do you hair, wanting a new hairstyle for yourself. Turning on some music just loud enough for you to hear only you started with plaiting your hair. You were somewhat aware of how long it would take, but it didn't matter. Just as long as you didn't sit around doing nothing without any ounce of exhaustion is something you didn't want to do.

Through the music you mindlessly part and plait your hair into tiny strands to make braids. You didn't realize how many you've done before you heard a noise. Slowly down your pace you glance to the radio that was carelessly tossed onto you bed. You've heard this song more than enough times to count the beats to the song.

Something about it was throwing you off.

Listening closely to the noise you've made a slow realization of the phone ringing. It was faint since the phone was in a completely different room but it felt like it was directly next to you. Questions starting to flood your mind as you finally finish the hair strands in your hand, directing your eyes over to the closed door of your bedroom.

'How long has the phone been ringing?'

It could've been minutes since the phone has been ringing. Getting a random call in the middle of the night scared you somewhat even though the phone line was directly connected to your friendly neighbors. You turn your head back to the mirror that you were seated in front of. It was better not to answer the phone right now since it was probably a random call accidentally made to you. But was it? You didn't know at all. You just needed to finish what you started.

After the final braid was done, you cleaned yourself up and flopped down on your bed. Barely missing the radio that tilted to the side due to your weight on the bed. Exhaustion finally caught up with you and you fell asleep.

Sometimes I feel like I live in Grandcentral Station

For the next couple of days was a never ending cycle for you. It weirded you out at first without any question. But the more you repeated the same action, it would just happen not even minutes later once you were away from it. Waking up to a mundane routine is something you wished for.

Wake up, get yourself breakfast, phone rings for several minutes, do you daily activities friends, get dinner, and go to sleep.

Wake up, phone rings for several minutes, get yourself some breakfast, the phone rings for an hour, do your daily activities, get dinner and go to sleep.

The phone rings for several minutes, wake up, phone rings for two hours, get yourself breakfast, the phone goes off, stay indoors, the phone rings, dinner, the phone rings, and go to sleep.

The phone rings again. The ringing was driving you insane. It was going on any time you were inside your own home. Whenever you went to another's house, their phone was silent as ever. Something that you had wished for. But it wasn't the only thing that kept you up late at night. You've been having conversations with Wally prior to the endless phone calls. Part feeling bad that he was still stuck in his home instead of being outside and spending time with the neighbors. You hadn't realize that his condition was getting progressively worse the more you kept talking to him.

Wally wanted to hear your voice more. He needed to hear you talk about whatever came to mind or was brought up. The sound of your voice was a melodious tune to him. Wally couldn't help it at all.

You wished you connected it sooner than expected.

And yet here you were. You were sitting down at the dinner table that was in your own home, your food gone untouched. You could only stare blankly at the plate in front of you knowing well that it's gone cold. Your eyes slowly drifted over to the phone that was resting on the counter. You had moved it during one of your calls with Wally so you can multitask: talk to him while making yourself something to eat. Easier and more convient for you, wasn't it?

It's been ringing once again. Your mind automatically thought it was Wally calling you again. It couldn't be anyone else to call you this late at night.

How else would he know that you tend to stay up into the late hours of the night. Or how you would wake up without a thought, doing whatever gets you back into exhaustion so you have more energy for tomorrow. How else could he know these details about you that you never mentioned.

You pushed the chair back without cringing at the screeching floorboard you caused it to make. You storm into the kitchen, opening various of drawers and digging through the various amount of supplies that you had stashed away. You were doing it aggressively to the point were you could've accidentally taken out an entire drawer. Pulling and slamming over and over again before you found what you were looking for. You scooped up a pair of scissors into your hands with the satisfaction of finally finding your desired item.

Pushing yourself away from the messy drawers and cabinets, you rush back over to the phone. You nearly knock over the phone which would've been desirable but it wasn't what you were aiming for. Going to the other side, you trace the long thin cable that connected your phone to the house, which gave access to anyone calling you. Finding no care for the length, you swiftly snip the cord in half.

An unfamiliar silence filled the room. Lowering your hands, you let one end of the cord slip through you hands and onto the floor. Relief washes over your body was you stand up properly. Sliding the scissors gently onto the counter. Turning away from the phone with no care what you're going to do with it. As long as it was silent, you were happy.

The phone rings.

You nearly snap your neck to look at the phone once again. Tou were thinking you might be imagining it all over again. The phone vibrates as the ringing starts up again. You were sure that you cut the phone line. What other cord could be connected to the phone.

'What the fuck is going on? Why is it ringing? How is it still ringing!? Just fucking stop!'

One thing led to another and you found yourself on the floor sitting against the wall. Viewing the phone that was at a distance due to it being knocked over by you throwing it at a nearby wall. It didn't break fully which made you more frustrated, but you didn't have anymore energy to deal with it. You were tired. You wanted it to stop.

"Now neighbor.. is that a way to answer a friend?" Wally's faint voice was heard through the phone, but you made no effort to get closer to hear him better.

"You destroyed your phone," Wally continues to speak with a loving tone in his voice. He sounds genuine, but you knew that there was another emotion present. "How can I be able to hear your voice if I can't call you.. Don't you think it would be better to visit me?”

You remained silent. Something about the suggestion was almost to good to pass up. It has been days since you’ve seen him, and you didn’t want anything more than to make up the lost time with the shorter puppet. But then again, Wally was sick and you weren't going to risk getting others down if you ended up getting sick as well.

You could only stare at the phone but you could feel Wally’s eyes focused on you. Eager for an answer.

Tonight I’m not taking no calls, cause I’ll be dancing

This is so messy omFG

I was working on another one au thing I saw on tik tok but somehow this au dragged me back here. I’ve been so stressed because of my grades and exams but writing this made me feel better at least. But like- you finna go see him or nah 👀

[noroi1000]

HI! I'm the one who asked if your request is open ^^

I'm just want to know how would it be if the mc/reader is the one who defected not suguru. How would both of them react. Thank you so much!

I've been reading you on AO3 and I'm so glad I found your tumblr too!

- 💫

Wild Animal

Summary: You were always their best friend. You were so tiny to them. You could fight; you were a sorcerer. But to make them smile at you again, you took their bad thoughts to make them smile. Instead of letting Suguru kill someone, you did it.

Warnings: mentions of death

You were so close to your friends. You were sometimes cute to them, sometimes funny. Sometimes pretty. Shoko has told you more than once that they like you. But how can a girl who is their friend fight for their hearts? Besides, you could never choose between them.

Even though you were starting to see that they were getting closer to you, much closer than to the others, you didn't want to do anything that would change your current life.

You were so docile to them. Even though you were strong enough with your technique to fight any of them. There's a reason why, when they were grade 1, you were grade 2. And then you were promoted to semi-grade 1. You were getting closer to them. And that was the point. When you are at the same level, you will be just like them!

You won't be weaker, and you won't be stronger.

But you were docile to them. You internally liked the feeling of them smiling at you so softly. And you were docile and sweet.

That's why Satoru said several times that you are like a cat. And Suguru confirmed it. To them, you were so docile.

Docile animals don't attack without reason, right? They won't do anything wrong, right?

After the mission with Riko, you collected their negative emotions for you.

You collected it, making them stop thinking about it.

They told you absolutely everything. Including their inner thoughts about it.

Right after everything that happened, thanks to Satoru, you understood what death is. He told you what it felt like to die. And you could have listened to him and hugged him.

Satoru understood that he was strong and that he had to protect weaker people. He is higher than others. And as someone stronger, he can keep them safe.

He understood something he had previously rejected.

But Suguru...

It was Suguru who knew the role of the sorcerer from the very beginning. That the sorcerer must protect non-sorcerers from curses.

But then... Suguru didn't know what was right or wrong anymore.

You hugged him and calmed him down. You did everything to make him forget about what happened.

You took his negative emotions for you too. You comforted him and told him not to think like that. You convinced him to smile. To live as it was before and not think about what had to happen anyway. He could fight, but someone would still lose his life.

Luckily, it wasn't him who died...

When you managed to see Satoru smile, Suguru wasn't smiling in any way.

„Why do sorcerers have to protect people?”

"Why do we have to protect them even if they are the ones creating the curses?"

„Why can't we eliminate the source of what is killing us?"

„Why can't we erase non-sorcerers?"

The questions that were swirling around in his head also started swirling in yours.

For several months, you did everything you could to convince him.

„You may hate non-sorcerers. But they cannot be completely eliminated. This is not something possible, Suguru.”

You had some important conversations with him. And he smiled at you.

He didn't have to worry as long as there was a ray of light in such a badly damaged Jujutsu society.

Even if Haibara was a clear example of this, you are still with them.

You helped him get out of his madness. You took all those bad thoughts away from him, and that's why he could only think about your funny words.

Not seeing that by taking their honest thoughts, you were destroying yourself from the inside.

If you combine the thoughts of both of them, something will come out that may be a solution for them to never think of such a thing again.

Satoru thought about how many people were dying. He was thinking about whether he should kill the cult members. He watched death, and he killed. He himself died.

After death, you can rise and become someone else.

Satoru, who understood more after death...

And Suguru... He had complete doubts about the lives of non-sorcerers.

Killing them so that only the sorcerers remain... Or forcibly turning them into sorcerers...

You took over their thoughts and started destroying yourself. You couldn't stand it... You couldn't stand what you knew.

You started to have a different view of the world.

Panic attacks that occurred at night. The fact that you were crying while sitting on your bed. You're fighting something made by humans...

People are afraid of disasters or that, at some point, artificial intelligence will eliminate them.

But they don't know that from the very beginning of their existence in the world, they have been creating something even more dangerous. Something that's around every corner and causes death...

People could change. But they are not sorcerers who can die and then rise from the grave.

You wanted to be that docile again. Let them hug you and play with them.

But you couldn't smile.

Witches and humans... It's all black...

There is no whiteness here.

Suguru and Satoru are shades of gray.

You are a black figure in the soul. You had shades of gray, but you agreed to accept all their negative thoughts. That's why you became darker.

You are as afraid of death as anyone else. But they were right.

You killed the first non-sorcerers for no reason. Simply because they cause sorcerers to have to protect them. It is because of people that sorcerers must exist. If it weren't for people, you too would be normal, and you would live a normal life. That's why... You didn't explain yourself to anyone.

Because no one would understand anyway...

Even those whose bad thoughts you turned into yours.

You could have been meek. But docile animals also sometimes attack when they have a reason.

You didn't want them to destroy themselves with what they thought.

So you will destroy yourself for them.

You can't be their girlfriend. You couldn't choose between them. You couldn't fall in love with them because it would destroy the friendship you've had for so many years.

You will destroy yourself so that they don't have to lose what they worked for. Strength, a high place in society, their friendship, and respect.

Everyone works for themselves and for only themselves.

You work for yourself, and you want them to get their dream worlds, at the cost of your life.

Because you agree with them...

What they thought was true.



Curse user?

Why you?

They were frozen when they heard this. You couldn't be a curse user! Not you! Of all the people around, you?!

The knowledge that you, their friend, who could be even closer, is a murderer and a curse user strikes knives in their hearts.

Their hearts were broken when you avoided them. They couldn't even find you. You escaped completely.

Even as special-grade sorcerers, they couldn't find you.

And tears came to their eyes every time they looked at your old photo.

They heard about the murders you committed. But they couldn't do anything.

They couldn't kill you.

But it was inevitable.

When no one could catch you, they were sent to kill a dangerous curse user.

Their docile kitty has changed.

But the sparkle in your eyes when you saw them didn't change.

You wanted to run away as soon as they stood in front of you.

You felt the sudden pressure of their energy pressing against yours.

You heard that they are much stronger now. These three years passed very quickly.

And in order to distract you from what was happening to you, they grew stronger. They trained.

To catch you in one move.

You didn't even feel like fighting. You felt like your body was ready to give up because it knew it had no chance.

Your waist was held in place by a strong forearm, and a large hand appeared over your mouth.

Your wrists were also grabbed.

You looked terrified at Suguru's hands that were holding you.

You jerked your body to try and get free.

They really didn't even move an inch.

"...Our kitty got claws. She's not so docile anymore." Satoru laughed, pulling you closer to his chest.

They can't kill you. They can't capture you and lead you to death.

Unless their superiors are suspicious, they will lie.

They will say they destroyed you on the spot.

In fact, you will just sit quietly at home. As a punishment, with no way out. So that you don't endanger them or you.

Suguru was even grateful to you for showing him what would happen to him if he followed that path. But he would never forgive himself for letting you die because of him.

Non-sorcerers are fools who deserve to die.

Sorcerers are crazy. And everyone has their own morality.

Suguru smiled, leaning slightly toward you.

"Satoru, claws can be trimmed. And a wild animal can be tamed and turned into a docile kitten."

@weebotaku21; @yihona-san06; @mikkies; @raysheil; @dreeamiea; @safaia-47; @porridgesblog; @weebnk-popper; @mc-reborn; @witchbybirth; @starlightanyaaa

[sillylittleguytm]

Hide Us in Shadow

Cardinal Copia x gn!reader

Warnings: Mentions of people getting up to filth in the confessional

Word Count: 696

Love from Your Papas Day 5: Hidden Kisses with Copia

Comfortable silence lays over the ministry halls like a blanket, the space uninhabited and illuminated by moonlight. The ministry is a beautiful place, and that beauty is only enhanced by the light of the moon pouring into the stained glass windows– it’s calm and serene when there isn’t a stream of people carrying out their duties throughout the day. 

The silence is suddenly cut through by the faint sound of careful steps on the tile. It's times like this that you curse the spacious, echoey hallways. You didn't typically go out past curfew, but the instances have become more and more common since you've become involved with the Cardinal. The blossoming romance isn't exactly forbidden, but you'd like it to develop more privately before it becomes a public thing. So, naturally, you both decide to be dramatic about it and sneak around to see each other. It makes things far more thrilling and fun.

You soon make it through the ministry and outside to the garden, your designated meeting spot. You arrive just a couple minutes late and find Copia sitting on a stone bench. His smile brightens at the sight of you and he moves over to give you room to sit. His hands fidget nervously. 

Sitting down next to Copia on the bench, you take his hand and give it a comforting squeeze. While he enjoys sneaking around with you, it stresses him out to no end. But it's hard to worry about that when you're by his side. All other cares go out the window when he has you in mind. 

“I'm glad you made it. I was starting to worry that Sister had found you.” Copia says, keeping his voice low. “I would hate for you to be put on laundry duty on my behalf.” 

“I think you're well worth any punishment she could dish out.” You assure him. “Except maybe cleaning out the confessional. I don't even want to think about the messes people leave in there.”

Copia laughs at this and leans in close. He looks at you for a moment, wanting to kiss you but hesitating to initiate it. The relationship is new and the last thing he wants is to take things too far and make you uncomfortable. But you simply laugh and lean in the rest of the way, kissing him softly. He makes a happy noise against your lips. His hand slides up your back and rests on the back of your head. 

Suddenly, you hear rustling in a nearby bush. You both quickly part in a panic, looking around for the source of the noise. You calm when you see that it's just a stray cat pouncing at a meal near the bushes. Copia visibly relaxes when he realizes they haven't been discovered. He places another short kiss on your lips, only to pull you in for another right when the previous one ends. You grin against his lips as the kisses continue. He peppers them all across your cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips. Not an inch of your face is left untouched. 

“Someone missed me today.” You tease with a giggle. Copia doesn't argue– he most certainly did miss you. Seeing you at night is the highlight of his day. He doesn't have to worry about paperwork or deadlines. All he had to worry about was Sister’s wearabouts and when he would next be able to see you like this. 

“I don't think we should hide this any longer, topolino.” Copia whispers, his mouth just short of colliding with yours once again. 

“I agree. I want people to see us and know that we're together.” You breathe, glancing down at his lips. Unable to resist the temptation, you bring him into another kiss, wrapping yourself around him, immersing yourself in him. You're in somewhat of a trance, completely mesmerized by how his lips feel against yours.

“Having fun, are we?” 

You jump back yet again and are met with a very smug looking Sister Imperator. Both of you are sheepish and worrying over what chore you both would be tasked with for being out past curfew.

Please not the confessional, anything but the confessional…

[heartfullofleeches]

Omg monster reader trying to comfort yandere whos crying because reader is being so sweet to them? Like reader is so cute and they cry because they can’t believe they deserve u and reader basically comforts then making their tears even more? Like “don’t cryy its okay” “what did i do to deserve youuu *cries even more*”

The waterworks start as they secure the final latch on the back door.

You stand behind your caretaker all smiles as they block off your only source of freedom, leaves in your hair and blood on your claws. Your arms are filled with whatever you were able to get your hands during your afternoon of free time; bounty slipping from grasp as their tears fall. Why are they crying? You only showed them all the nice things you collected for them.

God I don't deserve you...

Your heightened senses pick up on the note of weakness. Your caretaker wipes at their red eyes and fakes as smile as they look up at you. "You have a good time, hun?"

"Always! Would've been more fun if you were with me, though."

Their breath hitches. "I'm glad... You didn't see any other humans today did you?"

"No, but if I had I would ran straight home like you said."

"Good... Good." It almost broke their heart to remember the shock on your face from what they told you others would do if they found you. "I'm sorry about earlier. You surprised me is all. Can you show me some of the things you picked up?"

You drop to your knees, sorting through the pile. Some shiny rocks. A bird you manage to get the jump on. And an small assortment of flowers. You liked those the most. Since things were finally warming up, they were some of the first of their kind you had seen in a while - plus what human doesn't like pretty things? It seemed like none according to the shows you watched, and your very own as their eyes began to water more as you show them a crushed dandelion.

"I got you these. I wanted to sneak them in your jacket pockets before you came home, so you can always have one you, but realized just showing them you would be better... Why are you crying?"

Your caretaker shrivels against the backdoor as fat tears rolls down their face. You absolute angel. Their saving grace; pointy teeth and all. How did someone like them come across a precious gem like you? How could such a monster gain your love? They trapped you in their home in the middle of nowhere, and you just went along with everything they did with no questions asked. They were scum for what they've done, and yet they could never let you go.

"Hey, hey don't cry." You swarm them in a hug, patting their head with enough intensity that it puts strain on their neck, but they couldn't care less. They sob into your shirt as you hush and gently stroke their back. This love they barred you was the guiltiest pleasure imaginable.

"I'm sorry, angel. I'm so so sorry."

"Sorry for what? I'm okay. You're the who's crying. Let's get somewhere more comfortable and I'll help you feel better."

Your caretaker weakly nods, sniffling as you tuck the flower in their pocket and help them to their feet. They lean on your shoulder as you carry them away, once again swallowed by everything that is you.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Nightmares of past misadventures continue to haunt you. In desperation for comfort and a full night's sleep, you seek out the only person capable of calming your mind - Halsin.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

You're startled awake.

Gasping and coughing, you try to control your laboured breathing but the tension inside your chest renders you choking.

It was all a dream, a vision made up entirely by your brain. All of the scenes were mere reflections of what you've been through. None of it happened the way you'd dreamed.

And yet your hands are shaking.

The insidious whispers from your nightmare ring in your ears like an echo: It's your fault. This is all because of you.

Each rustle of the forest trees or a branch broken in the distance makes you jump. Shaking pines sound like the sinister laughter of something too old to be remembered even by nature. The shadows surrounding the camp seem darker and more vigorous as though they have a mind of their own. They lean over you, elongating and reaching to swallow you whole.

Laying on the bedroll, in front of the campfire, you feel more than exposed to whatever strange entities might reside in the woods.

Tears of fear are pooling in your eyes as your breath quickens again. You have to fight your own body to move it.

As your frightened mind focuses on finding a source of safety, your legs are already guiding you in the direction of Halsin's tent. Considering his strange sleeping hours, he's probably still awake.

Not having much care for etiquette in your current state, you call out for Halsin while already lifting the flap entrance. He's lying on his side on top of the bedroll. Judging by his attentive, open eyes, you really didn't disturb his sleep. He's half-naked, even on a chilly night like this.

"You're awake," Halsin says. It's hard to say whether he's asking or stating a rather obvious fact.

"Yes, about that..." you hung your raspy voice. On the one hand, you know that he probably won't mind but don't on the other, it's still mighty embarrassing to tell him why you've come. Isn't it childish to look for comfort in someone after being startled by your own imagination? "Would you mind if I slept with you?" you ask hesitantly. Your voice is breaking, reminding you of the inexplicable dread still residing in your abdomen. "I just- I don't want to be alone. Not tonight."

A deep lion's wrinkle appears between Halsin's eyebrows. His expression, normally quite polite, falls into something more tense and sombre. He's worried.

"Come to me," he says in a soft voice.

Obediently, you lay next to him. A strong arm wraps around you protectively, pulling you close against Halsin's body. He's warm, excessively so. Your face nuzzles into his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat inside his ribcage. As the druid's shoulders rise and fall in slow, relaxed breaths, you feel yours becoming less laboured.

"Thank you." Your whisper is barely audible, even in the dead of night.

"I'm glad to be the one you've sought out in the moment of need."

He doesn't let up his tight hold around you while you stir to look up at him. The sombre tension that crowned Halsin's face is now mostly gone, residing only in his bright eyes. It seems that despite dissipating his initial worry, the druid remains wary, prepared for your inexplicable fear to come back at any moment. As much as you appreciate the fact that he's not enquiring about what exactly had sent you into panic, you know that he very much desires to know - only then can he aid.

"Of course, I did, Halsin," you answer. For a moment you recall how your legs guided you towards him, although your consciousness had been plunged into chaos. Some primal part of you thought him your guardian, saviour. "It's always you."

The druid takes a sudden deep inhale as if your confession stirred something vulnerable deep inside him. Is this what being loved feels like? Feeling sunshine on your skin after a cold, winter night? Or seeing your favourite painting for the first time again and again?

"Then I'll always be there, mo chroi. Whenever you need me."

Halsin's oath is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. Little did you know but he stayed awake for quite some time after that. Partially because he revelled in the sensation of holding you close and in part awaiting for the terror to strike again, startling you awake once more.

But that moment never came.

Instead, restful sleep has found you, washing away the tender taint left by your nightmare.

___

mo chroi - "my heart" (Irish Gaelic). Dude is a druid, Gaelic fits him like a glove

[peachyloveswriting]

I really enjoy how you write Knives and Vash. I enjoyed the one with the sick reader so much.

If by chance could you do something with reader who has bad anxiety and panic attacks?

Maybe for Knives the reader is already feeling down because they are not allowed outside (sorta like seasonal depression I guess) and they feel of no use to him.

For Vash maybe something about how he says he wishes the reader wouldn't follow him and the group to Wolfwood or one of the others and they over hear him. He just wants them safe of course. They feel useless even though they have been able to keep safe so far. Feeling unwanted sends them into a panic.

Lately I have been pretty down and my anxiety about the smallest things have sent me into a panic.

Much love <3

I'm really glad that you've enjoyed my work so far and I hope you feel better soon. For now let me do some comfort and fluff. I'm in the mood right now. Also I've noticed that I sometimes accidentally write in first person so if I switch up on you guys I'm sorry Lmao.

Miscommunication and Self doubt --- Vash & Knives

SUMMARY: It doesn't take a lot to make someone feel worthless, maybe people should pay more attention to what they do.

Millions Knives

Artificial light, the only light that fills every room I've been in for the past four months. When was the last time I felt the suns on my skin, I had a fresh breath of air? God I have no clue. Ever since Knives took me in I've been stuck inside this tower with no hope of ever seeing the outside again. Just to make matters worse I get to watch everyone else do something useful while I sit and hope for a day that will never come. It fills my heart with dread every time I think about it.

I have no special duty, I don't run errands, I don't do chores. I sit and I act as a wall piece all day everyday. I stand by Knives side, accompanying him wherever he wants me too. Watching him play his piano, I feel particularly let down today.

Between the solemn notes and my aching heart, I don't know which was the straw that broke the Camels back, but I fell to my knees. Tears slid down my face and ragged breaths left my mouth, I sobbed, covering my eyes with my hands. Suddenly the melodious tune stopped making its way into my head and someone grabbed my shoulders.

"Petal?" Knives shook me with worry, he's checking me over for the source of my crying, but no injury is visible. "What's wrong?" He pulls my hands away from my face and cups my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. "Speak to me." His hands are gentle as ever, it's almost hard to believe that he's actually touching me.

"What's my point?" I choke out. "What's the point of me being here when I do nothing for you?" I pull away from his touch, another wretched sob falling from my lips. His face softens as his hands fall back to his sides. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

Through my teary eyes I can see his blades slithering out from behind him, coming right for me. My heart sinks and I feel sick, he was actually taking my advice. This wasn't really the way I wanted it to happen but it was death, the sweet release. Closing my eyes, I patiently wait to feel him cut through me, to tear me apart and never wake me up again. Instead, I feel the blades carefully wrap around my back, pushing me forward.

Opening my eyes, Knives grabs my shoulders once within reach and pulls me against him in a hug. His blades slip off my back but stay close, I can't tell if he's actually debating on killing me or if he's just trying to keep me in place. Against him, I sob. It's hysterical at this point, I'm so lost. He has no reason to keep me here so why am I still here?

"Why?" I have no special purpose for him. "Why am I here?"

One of his hands rubs my back while the other holds the back on my head close to him, he's holding me so gently. I feel like he's scared of hurting me, but why? I serve no purpose to him. Even still, he lets me cry into his shoulder, and even rubs my back in an attempt to comfort me. It's almost like he really does care.

"You're here because I want you to be. I enjoy your company and... You're very interesting to me." He pulls away. "but I don't understand what makes you think I'd kill you. I clearly have a reason not to."

He moves his thumb to swipe away my tears. "I'm sorry it's just... I've been stuck in here for so long I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't... I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I don't even do anything, I want to do something. I don't want to feel useless."

He leans closer. "I can assure you that you are not useless, you offer me entertainment, company, knowledge, and more. My want is for you to be comfortable, if you are not, I have failed. If you wish to leave I will escort you out?" His offer is kind, I'm taken aback by it. Seeing the way he usually treats things, this was not at all what I expected.

I shake my head. "I do want to leave but not like that! I just want to go outside..." I lift my hand to wipe the wetness from my eyes. "I don't wish to burden you, Knives."

He sighs. "Yet again, you're not a burden." Letting me go completely, his blades retract and he stands. "Come with me." He extends a hand to me. "I shall take you outside."

Taking a deep breath I grab his hand and pull myself up. "Thank you." He doesn't say anything in return, quietly leading me towards his room. Walking through the door I'm greeted by a large bed, I was sure he had never used it. It was untouched, sheets laid without a single wrinkle at all. It was like he'd never even touched it. He pulled me forward towards the large sheath of curtains, brushing them to the side. Bright sunlight fills the room and he pulls open a sliding door, turning to the side he gently tugs me forward. I can already feel the breeze hitting my skin before I ever step out. It feels reliving to feel the wind blowing in my face again.

Stepping out onto the small balcony, I press my hands against the rail and close my eyes. Behind me I can hear the door shut and Knives approaching. The air smells clean and the sun is purifying. I could relish in this moment forever, it makes it even harder to believe I'll have to go back in, I don't want too. I'd rather stay out here where I can feel myself at peace with the world, where the wind blows all my worries away.

"Feel better?" I open my eyes to see Knives leaned on the balcony rail beside me, resting his face in his hand. The corners of his lipa twitch up into a ghostly smile, almost non-existent.

"Much." I adjust my gaze to the city below. "Good. I'll be sure to accommodate you more often. I had never thought to ask how you were doing or what you might have needed."

I take a deep breath. "Thank you, Knives."

He stands up straight. "It's good to see you smile again." At the mention I could suddenly feel the smile on my lips, I hadn't noticed it before. "That's what you'll do for me..."

I look at him confused. "If you want to feel of use to me, smile more. It looks good on you."

Vash

"I'm going to sleep. Good night." You waved everyone goodbye before you claimed into your tent. The outside was illuminated by the flickering fire, Meryl and Roberto had already gone to sleep. It was only Vash and Wolfwood left after you. For a long time it was quiet, sleep was beginning to creep in and you were comfortable. That's when you Heard it.

"Why did they have to stick around?" Vash pokes at the fire with a stick. Wolfwood looks up at him in wonder "Huh? You mean Y/n?"

"Yeah... I just wish they wouldn't stick around." You don't get to hear him finish the sentence, you cover your ears and dig your face into the pillow. Something in your chest aches deeply, the thought of leaving the group after becoming so close to everyone hurts. To think the best out of all of them wanted you gone hurt the most, you didn't do anything to make him hate you. Was it that you didn't contribute? Everyone played their part but you... You were just there.

You don't do anything but cook and help set up camp for the night, it's not much at all compared to what everyone else does. Meryl's got a job with Roberto, Wolfwood is trying to keep you all from dying, and Vash.... He was looking for his brother, trying to save the world. That's more than you could ever do for the group, you bring them down. You get in the way of everyone's objectives, you don't contribute, what's worse than dead weight?

When you uncovered your ears, it was eerily quiet outside, the fire wasn't crackling anymore and Vash and Wolfwood had grown quiet. Heart heavy in your chest, you moved your blanket off of you and climbed to the entrance of your tent. Peeling it back you stick your head outside, the fire is almost out, Vash and the others are nowhere to be seen. You assume they've gone to sleep. Crawling out, you wrap your blanket around your shoulders and walk over to the truck.

The wind nips at your exposed skin as you reach up and grab your bag from the top, it slips from your hands and falls heavily on your foot. Your mouth shoots open to call out in pain but you hiss through clenched teeth instead. After hopping about, you pick the bag up and sling it over your shoulder, stopping to look and back sure you haven't woken anyone up. The silence gives you an answer, you pad back to your tent, quickly undoing it to pack it away in your bag. It fits snugly with all your other items as you tie it back. With everything ready, you tie the blanket securely around you as a coat and begin to walk away from the camp site.

The air is cold and lonely as you venture into the desolate night, from afar strange creatures call out, sending chills through your body. While running with the group, you fared well, managing to keep out of trouble. Alone, you weren't sure you were going to make it. Looking back at the tents, you realize they're much smaller than before. It would be pointless to turn back now, it hurts to leave like this but if Vash didn't want you there you were willing to leave. Albeit bringing you to tears in the process.

For the next day into the night, you traveled alone, not a soul in sight. The heat from the suns has just worn off and the cool nights air breezes past. You haven't stopped since you started, your legs burn with intensity, and your eyes threaten to close. It would be unwise to camp in the middle of the dunes, you searched for a rock face to settle down against but there were none in sight. You realize now that your choice to leave so suddenly without thinking it through wasn't a good idea, you couldn't go back now, they'd certainly have moved on by now. You'd just have to get by until the next town.

Suddenly, from behind you begin to hear shouting. It sounds like your name from somewhere out in the distance, certainly you had to be going crazy. Then it came again, closer this time. You turn to see what's calling out for you, running up on a Thomas, Is Vash.

"Vash?" Your eyes widen in surprise as he jumps off the Thomas, throwing you into the sand, hugging you.

"I was so worried. You scared me. I followed your footsteps for two days!" He pulled back with a smile on his face. Just before he was saying he didn't want you around, now he's acting like he misses you.

"You wanted me to stop following you." His smile falls. "So I left."

His heart falls to his stomach. "What do you mean?"

You blink at him. "You said you didn't want me to follow you around anymore. I overheard when you told Wolfwood."

Vash sits up, pulling you with. "I could see why you wouldn't want me around anymore, I don't do a whole lot..." He frowns, keeping your hand in his. "That's not why I said it." He tips your head up to look at him. "I said it because I'm dangerous. If you stay around me long enough you'll get killed."

I stare at him in silence for a moment. "What bout the others?"

He nods. "Them too. But Wolfwood and Roberto know how to keep themselves alive. You and Meryl... She only has a chance because of Robertoz but you." Vash sighs. Tears start to burn your eyes as you look at him. "Me... I'm worthless." It comes out as a broken sob, one that you can't stop from escaping.

Slumping forward, your head collides with Vash's shoulder. Shaking and sputtering, you sob against him, his hands rushing to soothe your shaking body. He engulfs you in a hug, hands rubbing your back and brushing your head. "Don't say that. You do an amazing job of staying out of trouble and you're an even better addition to the team. But I'm scared you might get hurt one day." His hot breath tickles your skin as he talks. "I want to keep you safe."

White hot anger rushes over you, you raise your head. "Then do that! Don't just send me away and expect that to be even better, it's worse! If you want me to be safe then show me how to use a gun."

His eyes are wide with surprise. You've never yelled at Vash like that, it hurt seeing you so angry. "If that's what you want, I'll do it."

You nod your head. "Yes. Anything to help, please."

"Of course. Let's get back to the others though, you need to eat and get water before you pass out. Sit in front of me so you can rest for a bit too." He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. "I'm really sorry I made you feel this way." He adverts his gaze as he leads you to the Thomas. "I had no idea you could hear me, it was nothing but the best intentions, I swear."

Vash helps you climb onto the Thomas first before grabbing reigns and hoisting himself up behind you. "I know. It still hurts though."

His face softens. "It won't happen again. I swear. Just stick by my side and you'll be safe."

[beautifulfuckup99]

First , Your writing and storylines are PERFECT

Keep them coming cause i wait for your updates girl🌶️😍😍😍

Can we have JK in a secret relationship with a foreign reader who travelled to Korea to spend a limited tome with him. But we all know JK, he was on live and somehow forgets to close it and they statt making out in the back ,leading to them going public of course🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭. Smut Smut Smut and spice😍✌️🌶️

The tears I just shed are so REAL lol. You warmed my heart, Girl. Thank you so much.

Title: With You.

Warning(s): SMUT, H8 Comments, and Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: This is just full of JK being a walking green flag cause honestly, he gives me Golden Retriever!bf energy lol.

**********************************

"Honey, I'm home!" Jungkook calls playfully as he walks into the apartment with a bright smile plastered om his face. "I love saying that..." He laughs as you smile softly at his childish ways. You stretch out more before going back to relaxing on the couch. After being approved by the big suits, you found yourself on the first flight to Korea to finally spend some much-desired time with your boyfriend of one year.

You never saw yourself dating someone like Jungkook, and that wasn't a bad thing, it's just that you never expected someone like him to want someone like you. And it wasn't just because he was an idol either. He was just so... Amazing. And he was yours? It was mindboggling.

"How was the shoot today?" You ask as you set your phone down. Jungkook had been upset having to leave you behind this morning to do a photoshoot for Vogue magazine, but you'd both agreed to keeping your relationship under wraps and you being there for his photoshoot would've raised some eyebrows...

"Fun. I guess." He shrugs before basically crashing on top of you, making you laugh out. "Mm... I'm glad to be home though. With you..." He smiles as he snuggles into your chest, making you blush and wrap your arms around his bigger frame.

"You act like such a baby..." You tease and he smirks up at you.

"You like it." He declares playfully before pecking your lips repeatedly, making you laugh again and push him away a bit.

"Oh! I ordered us some food from that new restaurant downtown. I kind of went... overboard?" He clarifies to make sure he was using the word right, making you smile and nod. "Good. Overboard." He says sheepishly as he goes back to resting on you. You hum as you play with his hair lazily while he shuts his eyes, always fond of your affection.

"Maybe you should show it off to ARMY." You suggest. Unbeknownst to Jungkook, you'd been all over Twitter this morning and had stumbled upon a post from a fan account that basically talked about how much fans missed Jungkook's lives. You took responsibility for that, honestly. Jungkook had told you up front once that he used his lives with ARMY to feel relaxed but talking to you had become the new source of peace for him. You felt bad. It was a two-way deal, really. Jungkook and ARMY both needed each other, and you didn't feel right standing in the way of that. Even though your boyfriend would tell you that you're not.

"A live? But you're here, I don't want you feeling left out." He says and your heart melts.

"Of course I won't. I'll be watching from the other room, baby. Come on." You encourage and he hums slowly.

"Fine. But only for a bit." He nods certainly and you smile excitedly.

********************************************

"Fuck..." Jungkook breathes out between heavy pants and your eyes are glued to the screen as you watch your boyfriend show off his new trick of one arm push-ups. You blink a bit, impressed that you hadn't ran to his gym area yet to jump his bones. You've got some great self-control, that's for sure.

"More? I did so much!" He complains as he reads the comments while pushing back his messy hair and you wanna laugh. These girls knew exactly what they were doing. "I'm tired, ARMY. I ate, I worked out. And now... I must go." He says in a playfully dramatic way that makes you smile. You get up and tip toe to the gym door from where you sat on the couch.

Jungkook is in the middle of exiting out of his livestream when you tap on the door, getting his full attention instantly. He gets up and walks over as ARMY starts commenting what's going on and why he hasn't stopped streaming.

"Hey. All done?" You ask excitedly and he nods fast while smiling.

"That was fun. ARMY was funny tonight." He chuckles as you hum and move closer to him.

"And you were adorable and sexy at the same time." You smirk, causing him to chuckle bashfully. You hum and grab the edge of his shirt to pull him closer, giving him that look.

"Yeah? You liked?" He asks quietly as he grabs you by your waist, making you blush now.

"Babe... You're all sweaty..." You playfully complain, not really put off by that factor though cause you're still holding him by his shirt.

"Oh? Let me fix that." He whispers playfully before taking off his shirt eagerly, making you laugh and grab his face to kiss him sweetly.

"You're insatiable." You mutter against his lips before grabbing his hand and pulling him off towards the living room couch as he makes quick work of your shirt, making you squeal happily at how quick he threw your shirt away.

"This why you ended your live early?" You joke as you grip his toned sides and move to press your body against his, needing that contact.

"And if it is?" He whispers as he lays you on the couch, hovering over you, making you smirk excitedly.

"I'll be flattered." You taunt before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him deeply. He kisses back, not missing a beat. Even as his hands roam your bare sides and grips your ass in both hands, making you moan softly against his lips.

"I've missed you all day..." He whispers against your mouth that was now hanging open thanks to his hands gripping your ass and rolling your hips against his bulge that was becoming more apparent through his sweatpants.

"Fuck..." You breathe out in one long and shallow breath as his mouth moves to your neck. One of his hands move from your ass to the front of your shorts, sliding in and going straight into your underwear to check you.

"Jung... Kookie..." You moan softly and grind down on to his fingers as they slide effortlessly between your folds.

"No prep needed." He teases quietly in your ear, making you moan softly in a bashful way. He was always so damn cocky. Of course, you didn't need much prep! Not when you had a tattooed, pierced, and five-foot-ten Korean biker man on top of you grabbing at your body like he knew it like the back of his hand. He pulls back to look you in the eyes.

"You missed me?" He taunts softly as he strokes his tender fingers up and down your wet slot, making you moan more, head rolling back as you roll your hips against his hand, following his movements like his fingers are a paintbrush.

"Y/N? You missed me?" He whispers again as he watches you with dark eyes. You whine a soft 'yes', making him groan. "I love your noises..." He whispers as he pulls out his hand from your shorts and sits up on his knees.

"No. No, please. More." You moan as you sit up fast and go straight for his waistband, making him lick his lips, watching you pull his sweats and boxers down in one motion. You gasp as his cock springs out.

"No prep needed..." You taunt breathlessly before kissing along his chest as your hand squeezed the length, making Jungkook groan and buck his hips slightly, wanting more.

You look up at him and bat your eyelashes, putting on your best innocent act, making him moan more. "Oh my god, you're so fucking pretty..." He breathes out in awe before pushing you back down on to the couch. He yanks your bottoms off fully, and you smile up at him as you lift your legs and hold them up and apart by your knees, putting your pussy on full display.

"Fuck, you look... Fucking amazing like that." Jungkook pants as he strokes the tip of his cock along your wet slot, watching as it gets wetter from your juices. Thank god for birth control...

"It's been so long." He whispers, eyes rolling shut at the feeling of your clit twitching against his tip. You pause at that comment.

"Baby, we hooked up last night." You giggle softly and are cut off by a long moan as your always giving boyfriend slides into you slowly.

"You didn't miss this cock?" He whispers as he watches your face while he slides in inch by inch to really make you feel it. Your eyes practically roll back.

"Yes! I missed it!" You whine quietly as you keep your legs in place, wanting him deep inside of you. Jungkook smirks as he moves to hover over you again and his arms go above your head to hold you in place as he slowly slides out of your dripping cunt, ready to thrust right back in. It makes you melt, honestly. He always knew where to hit.

"Baby..." You whine, eyes shut, lost in his strokes. They made your mind go numb. It makes him smirk as he quickens his pace a bit more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He pants repeatedly in your ear as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you. He hits your spot and you scream out, almost going limp. You didn't wanna move, not when his cock was hitting that spot.

"Oh my fucking god..." You whine out in pure pleasure, making Jungkook smirk.

"There you go baby. Don't I always hit that spot that makes you go dumb?" He taunts in your ear as the pit of your stomach starts to tighten. Your head rolls back as you cry out, unable to move from under him. His toned body had you against the couch and his arms were keeping you from jolting from his thrusts.

"You gonna cum for me? Hm?" He asks, always excited at the thought, no matter how many times you've done this. You nod fast.

"Yes! Yes! So... Close..." You whine out as your head rolls back, your hands letting go of your legs and gripping his waist, nails digging into his skin as he uses that pain as motivation to keep going.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?" He whispers in your ear as you shiver.

"Y-You! You! I-I... Have... Cum!" You cry out as you do just that as Jungkook slows down his thrusts a bit as you cream on his length.

"F-Fuck I have to... Cum." He gasps as you pull him down to kiss him passionately. He pulls out to cum on your stomach and pants heavily as he basically lays on top of you after, making you giggle sleepily.

"That... Is so good." You sigh peacefully as Jungkook holds up his fist, making you laugh at his after-sex routine. You fist bump him before laying back with your eyes closed.

"This... Is the good life..." He whispers bashfully and you smile happily. You couldn't agree more.

****************************************

"What?!" You shout in panic as Jungkook rubs his face in an upset and nervous manner. His manager was on the phone, shouting about Jungkook's live staying on and having to be turned off by them.

You're quick to get on Twitter as Jungkook apologizes to his manager for being careless. "Oh... No, no, no, no..." You panic as you see Jungkook is trending and your '@' is going around everywhere. Some fans are following you out of excitement while others are leaving messages about how they can't believe Jungkook would choose you.

Your heart drops as you see the fanbase split down the middle. Some fans defending you and some telling you to flat out kill yourself. There was a small percentage of fans shaming you as well, blaming you for 'exposing' Jungkook. Like you purposefully revealed yourself for the hell of it.

Jungkook looks over at you as you just get lost in scrolling through each and every comment. He gets up fast. "Don't." He says as he grabs your phone away, but you already feel a lump growing in your throat as you try and blink away the tears.

"You'll have to disappear for a bit on social media. Both of you, And wait for something more interesting to happen." Jungkook's manager says as he just pulls you into his arms, focusing more on comforting you. "Hello? Do you hear me? Maybe Ms. Y/L/N should just go back home. This little honeymoon is over. Now." His manager says angrily, and you pull away from your boyfriend's strong grasp.

"Talk." You whisper before walking off out of the kitchen and going into the bedroom, needing to lay down. You get in bed and slowly hide under the covers, drowning yourself in Jungkook's scent. You knew you were no one special. You knew Jungkook ran with a higher class of people who were more his 'aesthetic'. Who the hell were you compared to someone... younger, prettier, smarter, thin-

You're cut from your spiraling thoughts by a log of a body, laying gently on top of you. "Y/N..." Jungkook whispers, making you sniffle.

"Jungkook, your manager." You try quietly as the sheets are pulled off of your head.

"We... Came to an understanding." He says and you nod slowly.

"When am I leaving?" You ask, breath hitching in slight panic. All of this was too good to be true. You should've known someone like you never gets a happy ending. Not with your luck.

Jungkook frowns and strokes your cheek tenderly, wiping away a stray tear you didn't even know was there...

"You're not going anywhere, baby." He says softly and you look up at him, studying his face for any sign of that being a cruel joke. Instead, you're met with soft and bright shiny eyes looking back at you in excitement.

"But... Your manager...-" Jungkook cuts you off.

"Understands that without you here, I'll have no distraction and therefore, will just have to make their lives a living hell for entertainment. Go right back to shirtless lives and getting drunk on camera." He smirks proudly as you slowly sit up, Jungkook moving to sit between your legs.

"But... That still doesn't change that we have to go MIA for awhile..." You sigh.

"Mm... No. We don't have to do that either." He nods before showing you his phone. You see it's open to Namjoon's Instagram.

"Babe, I don't need to see you've been learking on his page..." You try with a scrunched nose.

"No, no, look." He encourages and you open up Namjoon's Instagram story and see he posted a screenshot from Jungkook's live yesterday. It's of you two with his hands on your waist and your hands on his shoulders, smiling sweetly up at him as he looks at you with this lovesick puppy dog face. The little phrase in the corner of the picture says 'Happy Day!' followed by a purple heart emoji. You smile a bit and sniffle more as you see how many people have liked it already.

"That's so sweet. But baby... Your fans hate me. They'll stop supporting you if we try and go public..." You warn quietly.

"Then they aren't really my fans, are they?" Jungkook asks, giving you a pointed look. You sigh softly at the question.

"You're right." You finally agree, voice soft as you slowly let yourself lean into him more.

"I've got you, Y/N. It's you and me. And I wouldn't want it any other way..." He says quietly as he moves to kiss your temple, making you blush.

"Let's do a live tonight. I can introduce you to ARMY. Properly this time..." He teases and you giggle and smile up at him.

"Sounds perfect." You whisper before kissing him.

[warrenposts]

I Know It Hurts

I Know It Hurts (Lockwood x Reader)

Request: Prompts 3, 11, 12 with Scenario 1 for @avelinageorge + 3 with Scenario 4 for anon

Summary: You get hurt on a job and are forced to face a phobia in the hospital followed by comfort from Lockwood back at Portland Row

Warning: Slightly graphic description of needles

Word Count: 5K

Requesting Information Here            Masterlist

“Y/N!” Screamed Lockwood.

You barely registered his desperate voice as your back hit the fence of the cemetery, having been forced off your feet and tossed to the side by the Ghost. You fell to the ground and looked up to see Lockwood slicing the ghost through the stomach with his rapier. You’re not sure how he made his way across the grounds to you so quickly but you're glad he did.

The ghost dissipated for a moment and Lockwood turned his back to you, shielding you in case she apparated close by you again. “Lockwood,” you groaned, struggling to stand after the blow to your side. It took you a moment, but eventually you pulled yourself up to your feet and stepped away from the fence, grimacing with each crunch your boots made on the gravel. 

You were confused as to why it hurt so much more than it should have and glanced down only to be faced with blood, fanning out on your shirt. You couldn't pull your eyes away from the sight and started to feel sick, hands shaking as your mouth went dry. Time slowed down for a minute before you were quickly snapped back into reality when you felt someone grab your arms.

"Y/n," Lockwood was shaking you gently, holding your biceps to keep you upright. That seemed like a good idea since you felt yourself tip back, about to stumble back into the fence. "No, no, no, none of that." You heard him insist as he pulled you away from the hazard.

Your body responded limply and feel forwards, which he let you do this time by wrapping his arms around you and slowly lowering you to your knees then safely into his arms. He held you in a seated position, keeping you upright against his chest.

Groaning at the sticky sensation you glanced down and flinched at the sight, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to make sense of the situation.

"It's all right, I've got you," he soothed. "It's not that bad, you're gonna be okay. We'll get you-"

He was interrupted by the sound of Lucy calling out over the now hauntingly silent graveyard, “We got it! We got the source! It’s over...” Her voice trailed off as she and George came to a halt, eyes widening at the sight before them.

After a second of shock, the two ran over and dropped down by your side. "We've got to get them to a hospital!" George analyzed, although it didn't take a genius to draw that conclusion. They were all thinking the same thing as they watched the blood pool on your side.

"No!" You interrupted, choking back a sob as Lucy pressed her hands down over your wound, something Lockwood seemed too in shock to remember to do. "I'm okay, no hospitals," you strained, trying to push Lucy away, hoping it would ease some of the pain. The two boys were quick to stop you and you threw your head back in pain as you fell back into Lockwood’s chest.

"You need help, Y/n." Lockwood insisted. "We're not equipped to deal with this."

"Please," you begged. "I can't do hospitals, with all the death and needles and," Your words were cut short by you trying to catch your breath ad you began to panic at the thought.

All eyes on you were drowning in sympathy. "It will be easy, I promise."

"Don't lie to me," your voice was small and helpless, something they'd never heard from you before. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes as you became more and more aware of the pain. Reality started to kick in when you heard the DEPRAC relief sirens, blaring down the street and you shot a hand up to grab one of the arms that Lockwood had wrapped around you. He tightened his grip on you and you started to tremble, struggling to come to terms with the fact that whether you liked it or not, they were taking you to a hospital.

Lucy coaxed, "We'll be there the entire time." You vaguely heard her sniffles as she bit back the tears threatening to fall.

“That’s right,” Lockwood spoke softly into your ear. “We won’t let them hurt you.”

Time was warped in your mind and you only clued in to the fact that you were being pulled into an ambulance on a gurney when you could no longer feel Lockwood behind you. You started to panic as the paramedics shoved your friends away, telling them they can meet you at the hospital.

“No, no, no, no,” you objected. “They have to come with me they-AH!” You were interrupted by a sharp pain in your side and looked down to see the longest needle you’d ever seen embedded into your side. Continuing to scream, you jerked away and tried to fight them, doing anything you could to dislodge it from your side. The paramedics held you down tightly while they fished out the anesthetic and all the distress you were feeling built up in your throat. “LOCKWOOD!” You screamed as tears streamed down your face.

You vaguely heard the voice of Barnes, shouting out to let Lockwood into the ambulance and before you knew it, his grasp returned, exactly where it belonged.

You were quick to squeeze his hand, tighter than you ever thought you could. Everything was so intense and moving too quickly for you to catch up. "Lockwood," you sobbed. "Please, make them stop," you begged.

“It’s alright. I know it hurts,” he soothed. “We’re almost done, I swear.” He kept glancing over to the people surrounding you, silently asking for any indication that the words he was saying had any truth to them.

Despite his comforting hand tightly holding yours, thumb rubbing gently over yours, you couldn't keep the agony at bay. You still felt the air catch in your lungs and strangle you, taunting you in your torment. The ambulance felt hot and much smaller than it actually was and there was nothing you could do to control the rapid suffering of your lungs. Lockwood’s voice was far away but you were still happy to hear it, it being the last sound you hear as your eyes fell shut and you drifted off into suffocating darkness.

When you awoke, Lockwood was already awake. He sat by your bed, sleeves rolled up his forearms to sit just under his elbows, one of which was propped up on the armrest as he rested his knuckles against his temple. You could see his tie was missing and he'd undone a few buttons on the shirt that was now disheveled, blood-soaked and smudged with grave soil.

 His eyes glanced over to you and when he saw you shifting around, he was quick to move and take a seat on the edge of the bed to instantly start fussing over you, “Try not to move,” he coaxed.  “You're okay, but you shouldn't move.”

In an attempt to sit up, you glanced down and immediately took notice of the IV needle sticking out of the back of your hand. Lockwood sighed in sympathy at your realization. You took a shaky breath, feeling the bile build in your throat. “Lockwood.” You hadn’t planned your next words; in fact, you were barely aware of the one you’d just said.

“I know, I know,” he hushed.

Your throat was starting to hurt with all the hyperventilating you'd done. "I-" You couldn’t do this again. You were exhausted from the anguish that today had caused you. Impulsively, you decided that if nobody was going to listen to you then it was time you pulled off the Band-Aid yourself. You reached down, fumbling to grab the IV line but Lockwood grabbed your hand and pulled it away while the other stayed petrified on the bed.

He sighed, frustrated that he couldn't make this easier on you. “I was hoping you’d sleep through all of this-”

“I can't do this again-" You whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming. He’d never heard such desperation in your voice and every moment of it made his heart ache.

“You need it," he insisted, rubbing his thumb over your hand while you squirmed uncomfortably. "To stop it from getting infected.”

“I can do that with a pill,” You argued, dropping your head back onto the pillows behind you, no longer able to hold the weight of it up as you started feeling hot and sick.

He reached out and shifted the monitor so you couldn't see the time left on the IV drip. “It will be out before you know it," he soothed.

Every word that left your mouth was purely impulsive and happened without any prior thoughts. “I’m going to pass out," you choked, hardly registering what you were even saying, "or I'm gonna rip it out." Honestly you didn't even mind which; you just wanted one to happen soon so you could have some peace and get rid of the sickly feeling that rolled in waves over your body.

The needle on your hand started to feel bigger than it was and the quantity increased. Soon you felt one poking every vein in your body, tormenting your vulnerable position.

Rapid beeping echoed throughout the room as you heart monitor increased speed. Lockwood was quick to react. He let go of your hand and ducked under the IV line to crawl into the bed. He positioned himself behind you, holding you more upright so you could breathe easier. "It's alright," he whispered. "I'm here, I've got you, just breath and everything will be okay."

He held your hand in your lap and kept his other arm around your waist. Your heart warmed at his actions. He didn't even think about it, you were scared and he wanted to do everything in his power to help you. You tried to listen to him and took a deep breath of air but it was shaking and croaky. Regardless, it helped for a moment but soon your attention returned back to the needle and you tightened your grip on Lockwood’s hand instinctively.

He let out a forced laugh and began whispering into your ear. "You think you’re stressed? Your bestie George was practically pacing a hole into the floor.”

His words caught you off guard, it wasn't a strange claim but why was he bringing this up now? You shifted slightly to look over your shoulder at him and, while minding your wound, moved you so you were tucked under his arm. You still rested on his chest, but now had a better angle to lock eyes and ask, “Is he okay?”

“Completely bonkers," he insisted, cracking a mischievous grin. "By now he’s probably broken into the café, trying to cook you something better than the hospital food.”

You let out a small laugh, which at this point felt like such a foreign concept. "I wouldn't put it past him."

“Can you imagine?" He teased, "Lucy pulling him by the legs, up in the air as he clings to the oven?”

Giggling again, you tilted your head in thought. “Knowing him, he’s stealing a heart or something from the cadaver lab.”

Lockwood furrowed his eyebrows, putting on a fake look of concern. “Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have left him alone.” He began glancing at the door, comedically trying to look into the hallway for your friends.

“He’s with Lucy," you defended in an unconvinced confidence, if that could classify as defending him.

“Yes," he laughed and countered, "the second worst influence.”

“The first being you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow to his theatrics.

“No! George." He argued, "He stole the skull remember?"

“Yeah and Lucy stole ring, twice,” you mocked. "Remember?"

“Maybe she is two,” he caved, smiling at how your demeanor had changed. He didn’t dare ask if you were feeling better, but he never let go or stopped the soothing tracing on your hand.

“Okay so ‘You, Lucy, George, me’,” You listed, looking up at him for confirmation.

Scoffing, Lockwood did a double take and further continued the debate. “George is not last.” 

You groaned and leaned your head onto his shoulder. “I’m afraid to say it but he is usually the voice of reason in our little group.”

“We’re doomed,” he replied, resting his head on top of yours.

“It’s not like he enjoys it,” you defended. “It’s just that the bar for what we consider responsible is so low, thanks to you.” He would have loved to point out that your current condition rated you at least third on the ranks but he didn't want to redirect your attention back to your situation.

“Okay fine,” he gave in and negotiated. “Lucy, then Me, George. Final ruling.”

You gently shrugged causing him to lift his head off of yours, much to your disappointment. “I can live with that,” you agreed. “If you’re comfortable being wrong.” Lockwood narrowed his eyes as he smirked and opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by a voice entering the room.

“Sounds accurate to me,” George agreed, entering the room with Lucy by his side. They looked uninjured but still worse for wear, tired at the very least.

She glanced at the needle but Lockwood kindly and subtly shook his head. She couldn’t stop wringing out her hands in discomfort, unable to bear seeing a sight so similar to Norrie. It hurt to see her best friend in such a state and couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so she was grateful when George took the lead.

“Don’t worry,” He nudged your arm and flopped onto the chair by the bed, stretching his legs out onto the mattress. “When we get home, I'll make you Noon Khamei,” he smiled, even more so when you mirrored his expression.

Lockwood let out a ‘tsk’ and scolded in an amused voice, “You’re too soft on her.”

“Says you, cradling her in your arms to distract her,” he proclaimed, his often deadpanned voice now laced in humor.

Lockwood felt a pang of nerves in anticipation of your reaction but you didn't start panicking. Instead, you smiled softly and croaked out in a small voice “It’s helping,” you admitted. “But do you know when I-” As if on cue, the monitor next to you began rapidly beeping and Lucy was quick to react. 

She was yanked out of her concerned trance and announced, “The drip is finished, I’ll get the nurse.” Before speeding out of the room. It was obvious that she couldn't wait to get you out of there.

When Lucy returned, she had a nurse in tow. The two stopped at the door and Lucy rasped out, “George? Could you come here?” She looked nervous and assumingly only called George because she didn’t want to pull Lockwood away from you.

You watched the two intensely as they spoke to the nurse; whatever Lucy was hearing seemed to dial up the concern that already took residence on her face and George began shaking his head, clearly disagreeing with what he was hearing.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” You asked, not taking your eyes off them, hoping it was clear to Lockwood that you needed him to either lie or comfort you.

He shrugged and joked, “They’re probably just interrogating George about the missing hearts in the morgue.”

You wanted so badly to take comfort in his words but by this point you were at your limit and just wanted to go home. “Please just get me out of here,” you exhaled.

“It’s alright,” he whispered into your ear. “I know it’s been rough, but you’re safe now and I won’t let go of you again.” You took a deep breath, taking in his words and feeling a wave of comfort when he pressed his lips to your head.

The three approached and you swallowed your fear as best you could. “Give it to me straight, Doc,” you joked, although your voice didn’t have a whole lot of humor to it. “How long do I got?”

He nodded and ignored your discomfort. “We’re concerned about the state of the environment in which you were injured,” he explained. “You said it was a cemetery fence that cut you?” He asked. Despite him doing his best to explain himself, you began to feel impatient. You just wanted him he’d get to the point so you could go home. The walking on eggshells was starting to bother you after a whole evening of pain and losing your autonomy.

“That’s right,” Lockwood answered after seeing you freeze. “Nasty accident,” he eased, always trying to dampen the danger of any situation. 

“Well, we believe that it’s in your best interest to receive a tetanus shot,” he announced.  “To prevent serious infections that may have congregated from the rust on the fence.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” you reassured, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I've had them before. When I was a kid,” you confirmed.

“It’s not always enough and a sixth dose is always recommended at your age,” he pushed. “It’s the best avenue to prevent us from having to see you here again.” 

‘Was that supposed to be a joke?’ You thought. “I’m sure it will be okay-” You started to get the uneasy feeling that regardless of what you said, he was going to do as he liked. That’s what doctors usually did. ‘No, that’s not fair. It’s his job and he’s just trying to help you.’ You reminded yourself. ‘You’re just stressed out. You have to remember, your friends are here. Lockwood is here.’  That’s when you looked around and realized that in all the commotion, you’d forgotten that you had people looking out for you.

At first the idea that you were being forced into a situation that you hated, one that made you so afraid and sick with no control over what happened to you, just reiterated how cruel DEPRAC had been to you over the years. But it wasn’t like that anymore, you had your friends and they were just as intent on getting you home as you were. It was a new experience that you were still getting used to but it was true none the less.

“It’s alright, It won’t be like before, I swear,” Lockwood promised, maneuvering himself to look at you directly. “I’ll be here the entire time.”

“We all will be,” Lucy chimed in, this being the first time she’d confidentially spoken all day. She lurched forward to grab your hand and you barely noticed the needle that was still lodged in your hand.

“Only when you’re ready this time,” George added. “Only when she’s ready,” he repeated, looking at the nurse who nodded in confirmation. 

You thought for a moment. You still had no choice on the outcome but this time your friends were going to make sure it happened on your terms. “Okay,” you whispered, looking upwards, trying to remain as confident as possible.

Your friends all started smiling, their chests swelling with pride as the nurse left the room to prepare. George spoke first, “I had no idea you were afraid of needles.”

“George,” Lockwood gently scolded but you were quick to ease their minds.

“It’s okay, hospitals have always bothered me,” you informed. “They stick you with the needle when you’re not ready or prepared or even aware it’s happening.” They all nodded and you tried to find the words to explain yourself. “It’s like, the moment a doctor walks into the room, I know that nothing I say or do matters, I've been completely robbed off all autonomy.”

“It won’t be like that this time,” Lockwood promised, now sitting beside you on the mattress. He cycled between rubbing your back and gently brushing your hairline as you spoke.

Smiling, you locked eyes with him and said with absolute confidence, “I know. I trust you.” George and Lucy shot each other a look that neither of you caught.

You didn’t tear your eyes away from him until the nurse returned with a second following beside. They explained that they were going to remove the IV, give you the shot then you could be discharged.

“Are you ready?” Lockwood asked. It had been the first time you’d ever been asked that before getting a needle and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded.

The man from before got to work disconnecting the IV from your hand and you couldn’t help but feel the nausea return. However, the moment you started taking deep breaths, your friends all started talking to you about random facts from the case. Lucy held your hand and Lockwood refused to move from your side.

When the nurse asked him to move, he simply swapped sides to give them access to your arm. As he took his seat on your opposite side, he brought a knuckle up to your jaw and gently turned your head to be looking at him, pulling your attention away from the needle in her hand. “Just let us know when you’re ready” he asked, causing the nurse to halt her actions.

You nodded, keeping your eyes on him and whispered, “Go ahead.” You still felt sick and uncomfortable but you knew you were safe and it was enough to help you get through the last of the prodding. 

When it was finally over, proud smiles were plastered onto your friends faces and George let out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. “Brilliant, let’s get you out of here then,” he declared before rushing off to collect the discharge papers. Lucy followed, practically sprinting after George.

It had been almost two hours since you were finally sent home and George had made the Noon Khamei cream puffs he’d promised and Lucy had given you a blue teddy bear she’d bought from the gift shop in her frantic exit to collect the discharge forms. They made tea and Lucy sat with you for a while George went upstairs to check on Lockwood.

After a while, Lucy had started to doze off on the couch and you encouraged her to go to bed. She was reluctant to leave you but you promised that you were happy with some quiet time in front of the fire. Since then, you had sat on the couch finishing your tea and fiddling with the blue, fuzzy bear that Lucy bought. You hadn’t seen Lockwood since he set you down where you’d asked and you’d began to worry that you’d exhausted him today.

After George went up to check on him, you’d heard the shower running for some time. Since then, it had been silent and all you could think about, now that you were alone was Lockwood. How in your moments of distress, all you wanted was him and when faced with a situation where you could barely breath, he’d made it all the more bearable.

Your frantic thoughts were interrupted when you heard someone step into the room.  “Nice teddy bear” Lockwood commented, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a pose you were sure he’d practiced. His hair was slightly damp and he was now dressed in black sweatpants and his grey hoodie. You always found it comforting to see him in such a calm, domestic state.

A smile broke onto your face, “I’m calling it ‘Henry’.”

Lockwood shook his head and pushed himself off the doorframe and began walking over to you. “After the ghost that nearly killed you today? You’ve lost it.” It didn’t take long before he was towering over you as you sat, nestled on the couch. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“I’m sorry I yelled today,” ignoring his question, you were quick to apologize, now much more conscious than you were on the field. “The pain made me a little delirious and you were just trying to help."

“Don’t be,” he shook his head in an unsteady fashion. He didn’t look so good; a little shaken and disturbed. “It was a rough day," he shrugged. "For all of us.” You were waiting for an unconvincing smile but he never gave one.

“I’m just glad to be home.” Something warmed in Lockwood’s chest every time somebody described the place as ‘home’, you could see it in his eyes, clear as day.

For the first time since you arrived home, he locked eyes with you and you let out a breath of relief when you saw the subtle smile on his face. “Well perfect reason to never let it happen again,” he joked before his smile turned bitter sweet. “I couldn't bear it,” he admitted.

The silence made you a little uncomfortable under the circumstances, you weren’t sure what he meant by that but you decided to overthink it later. So instead of asking you just raised your plush bear up a little higher and asked, “Couldn’t bear it?”

He tried so hard to not smile, but he couldn’t hide it, “Damn, Lucy.” You laughed at his feigned frustration and set the bear down next to you on the table.

“Will you sit with me?” You asked, scooting over on the couch to make more room for him. “It really did help at the hospital.”

Lockwood swallowed and took a nervous breath, fidgeting slightly where he stood. “You need to rest,” he declared.

“But- But," you fake stuttered, feigning a pout in a dramatic fashion. "It's so uncomfortable over here all on my lonesome."

“No,” he insisted, a genuine smile now slowly growing on his face. He narrowed his eyes in false disapproval, the smile giving him away. “I won’t spoil you just because you have been so careless as to injure yourself.” For a moment, he lost the humor in his tone and it felt like you were being scolded.

“Really,” you pressed. “I’m sorry I panicked so much, I just-”

Lockwood was quick to interrupt you and softly asked, “How could you ever be at fault for that?” He seemed serious in his question, genuinely confused as to why you held yourself accountable for that.

“Maybe you’re just not bothered because you’re so infatuated with me,” you teased. “Can’t do any wrong in your eyes.”

He held the eye contact, almost challenging you and you were relieved that your usual dynamic had come back into play. “Oh, you’d like that wouldn't you?” He asked.

“It was nice taking advantage of how much you care for me,” you opposed. You both has matching smiles lighting up your faces. It was a nice contrast from the previous events of the night.

“I’m afraid to say, I'd gladly do it again.” He admitted, “You might be on to something.” It almost sounded like a confession or admission but you chose to accept it as confirmation.

“How do you always know exactly what I need?” You asked, “at the hospital, you completely distracted me.” It was a fair question. You were aware of how well you all knew each other but Lockwood seemed to have a hold over you that you couldn’t quite identify.

“Because you’re obnoxiously vocal when you’re uncomfortable,” he teased and gave in, taking a seat next to you before shaking out the blanket that had begun to slip off your lap so it was now covering you both.

“Well, that’s because I know you’ll cater my every need and desire," you mumbled, leaning in immediately to his side.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, mumbling into your hair.

“Everything is a little sore,” you admitted. “But I’m glad it’s over, I feel better now that I’m here.” You didn’t specify whether you meant Portland Row or your current position, but it didn’t really matter. Either one was true.

Feeling your eyelids start to drop, you turned as subtly as you could, nestling further into his side, hoping he'd pull you in to cuddle closer with the arm he had draped over your shoulders.

He didn’t pull you in, instead he tapped your arm and started indicating for you to sit up. "Uh-uh," he softly protested, guiding you to an upright position. “You shouldn’t sleep on the couch in this state. Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Immediately you threw your head back and began pouting at his actions. “Nooo, it’s so hard to get comfortable,” you practically sulked. “And you just sat down," you added, hoping to appeal to his own exhaustion.

"We'll I wouldn't have if I'd known you were this tired,” he bickered back. “Besides, what does that matter?" he asked.

"I don’t know,” you mumbled, not shifting your weight to keep him on the couch. “It’s just more comfortable with you,” you admitted sheepishly.

His heart burned at the way you practically buried your face into his chest, he tilted his head back, starting at the ceiling to hide the giddy smile that fought its way onto his face. “Well, you don’t get everything you want just because you’re hurt,” he goaded, still nudging you to sit up.

“I get you, don’t I?” You asked, locking eyes with him after he gently pulled you to your feet.

“You do,” he whispered and he held your face gently in his hands before tilting your head down to press his lips to your forehead. You closed your eyes and held his wrists tightly, leaning in further as didn’t to find much separation between the two of you anytime soon. “You do get me.”

"Will you stay with me tonight?" You pleaded, looking up into his eyes. “You need to rest just as much as I do.”

“Well, in the interest of not giving in to everything you want,” he teased, gently shaking your head in his hands, causing you to laugh and pull them away from your cheeks. He leaned down and whispered in your ear. “Whatever you want.”

“Lockwood?” You asked softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He hummed in response. “Don’t forget my bear.” The frustrated huff that left his nose was worth the profanities you were likely to read on the thinking cloth in the morning.

[simp4konig]

"Can I sit here?" König x Gender-neutral Reader (Part 2)

Word count: ~2700

König finally asks you out on a date!

*Slow burn

*Friends (to Lovers?)

*FINALLT a Part 2 to 👉👉this fic rught here!! Tysm to those for being so patient in regards to part 2 kf this fic!!!😽 i hope u guys think this js good enoigh to be the sequel 😢😢😢 😢 Lots of fluff!!! 🥺🥺SOME suggestive themes but only if u squint 🧐

*Author STILL doesn't speak German!! 🇩🇪🙅🏼(im so sorru to any German-speakers thst xan see thru my Google Translate and whince in pain 😬Not mucj i can do abt it 🤷🏼‍♀️otber than spend 3 yrs learning the language and i do NOT ❌have time for thst‼️sorry😿)

...

Life on the barracks was still as mundane as ever for König.

With no new information on any recent targets or any gang syndicates appearing on their radar, he had to ease in to this rather boring lifestyle, his only source of entertainment being at target practice. Never really paying much thought to what he could get up to when he had free time — the truth was, he had never had any — he essentially was left twiddling his thumbs, this being the worst part about his job.

With no hobbies, König chose to kill time by going to the gym more often, working out with high intensity. On particularly slow days he'd enter the gym for a second time, going in when he knew no one else would be around so he would have the equipment all to himself.

He still wasn't a fan of the monotony, yet he grew more appreciative as a new factor entered his schedule, the recent recruit that had made his life more interesting: you.

Ever since that day when you chose to sit at his table, you always walked to the corner of the cafeteria where he was sitting with something new to tell, and König would listen attentively, not looking away from you once. Having you chat in front of him every morning and afternoon gave him something to look forward to during the otherwise uneventful mornings and afternoons, and he over time became more pleasant to be with and less and less awkward.

He'd wait eagerly at his usual table, looking forward to seeing your face. You made it your due diligence to prepare him something the day before, which would usually be the same that you would have, and the two of you would eat in a comfortable silence, König always being complimentary about the food no matter how simple it was to prepare.

"Mein Gott! Delicious, this is, maus! You really are talented," he'd proclaim, the sound muffled by a mouthful of food.

Maus. You had noticed König begin dropping in words like that when addressing you instead of your call-sign, yet you, being an ignorant Westerner, couldn't even Google their meanings as you had no clue how attempt to spell them. Maus, on the other hand, was self-explanatory; your height difference made you look like a "mouse" to him. You weren't sure whether to take it as a compliment or not, but you didn't question it further.

Shaking your head with a smile, you'd wave a dismissive hand at his remarks. "Eh, those are just simple pancakes. It would be hard for someone to not make them delicious, in all honesty."

"Nein, I mean it!" He'd reply in earnest, not breaking eye contact. "No one could replicate the... the flavour! The—" König struggled for words, his vocabulary limited enough as it was, yet with you in front of him he'd be unable to recall nothing that he had been taught in his English lessons.

Still, he'd persevere. "Das köstliche aroma! It's— so good. Very good."

A bashful laugh. "Okay, okay, König! I get it." You placed a hand on your chest, trying to downplay the rising blush on your cheeks. "Really, I'm flattered. Thank you."

To which König's eyes would crinkle, a sure sign of a thick smile under that hood of his. He was glad you couldn't see it, though, as he was sure he looked like an idiot.

When you'd be late by a few minutes, König could feel himself start to panic, his mind racing with possibilities at what could have happened to you. His anxiety was irrational yet his alarm was nothing short from genuine, only having good intentions; to keep you from harm's way.

He wanted to protect you, but he didn't know your schedule yet, thus hated not knowing where you were at all times. Tense shoulders visibly relaxed seeing you hurry through the double doors, and he'd let out a sigh of relief, trying to remember what he had planned to say, last minute rehearsals gone over in his head.

All of that careful planning went of out of the window, though, as the two of you would talk about everything and nothing, sometimes about something deep and philosophical; other times, your favourite type of cheese, and each rave about them respectively for five minutes flat.

You were a breath of fresh air for König, which was why he was now training with such vigour.

When working out, König made minimal noise, his movements quick and controlled. This time, however, he was grunting with effort, working until maximum exhaustion and completely drenched in sweat.

Before, he had never bothered with his appearance, only carrying the basic neccesities and wearing tactical gear that was comfortable enough and wasn't too tight. With his height, it was difficult enough to find form-fitting clothes to begin with, and damn near impossible when his bulk was considered, so any clothing that somewhat fit was good enough to König to wear on a day-to-day basis.

Yet, on numerous occasions, he found himself staring at his barren closet, contemplating over what outfit would look best with the few options he had.

Thinking of you made him want to look better for you, to make him worth your time, and he busied himself with searching on the internet and comparing reviews for the best cologne, for the best aftershave, even finding the best shirts from a niche private retailer that nearly catered to his needs to a tee, and he'd specifically select t-shirts that revealed his bulging biceps whenever he crossed his arms and would show off his body to you. A physique he maintained and would improve with you in mind, not necessarily for the sake of being the ideal soldier.

He would practice conversation in the mirror, thinking up of the funniest jokes to say, the most interesting topics to bring up. Suddenly, the English textbooks that were long forgotten about under his bed and the dust-covered German-English dictionary became of use, and he'd study the words, the idioms, the grammar, committing it all to memory. A pencil in hand and a lamp shining down on the notebook in front of him, he'd write late into the night, improving his sentence structure and mastering the expressions he had highlighted earlier, not knowing their definitions.

You were worth the effort, and he vowed to do this right. He wanted to impress you, and didn't want you to ditch him or think of him as less for the way he presented himself.

He'd shower and comb the hair back that you wouldn't see (yet he felt it a necessary thing to do, just in case), and generously sprayed himself with scented deodorant, before going to his usual spot at the cafeteria with his chest puffed out, hoping he looked immaculate.

And he did. His colleagues and lower-downs noticed this shift in his charisma and his growing confidence, actively taking advantage of his status rather than watching passively in the back of the room. They could sense his presence as he was walking down the corridors, yet rather than immediately looking down at the ground, instead saluted him with a respectful: "Good afternoon, Colonel Sir."

Really, he was elated. He had never felt this happy in years, and he was loving this feeling, walking around base now with a self-assured swagger to his step.

Waiting, though, was the worst part about your encounters. Minutes felt like hours as König held a hand over his bouncing knee to keep it in place, his stomach fluttering with butterflies as he waited in anticipation.

Truth was, you'd always be worn out after training after your instructor pushed you to your limits, and sometimes took longer in getting ready and making yourself look presentable than other times because your joints were aching and your clothes stuck to you from how sweaty you were.

Now, quickly combing your hair and rolling some deodorant under your armpits, you had a goofy grin on your face, excited to see König again.

König, the 6'10 giant who was really just a sweet Austrian man to you.

His dead enemies, however, would be rolling in their graves and yelling in protest at the thought of you calling the brutal murderer that snapped their necks like they were twigs "sweet".

Really, you were ignorant to people's stances on him, and would defend his honour on his behalf with innocent stubbornness, with naive certainty that you were right. After all, he was a gentle giant!

Even if his total 180 shift was true, you doubted the full extent of his brutality. So what if he got a little aggressive? Adrenaline could do a lot to a man!

Still yet to see the side of him that König was trying desperately to keep hidden from you, he intended to keep it that way for as long as he could.

Counting down the seconds on his watch, König was sure you'd come in any moment now. A minute passing and he imagined that you'd come rushing in though the doors, frantically apologising for taking so long before sitting down and giving all of your attention to him, giving him the attention that he had never received from anyone so attractive before.

This meeting, however, was going to be different. He had revised all that he had wanted to say and exactly how he wanted to say it, until the words were permanently engraved in his brain.

At last, the double doors opened and there you were, a lopsided smile on your face as you speed-walked towards his table, already apologising sincerely and explaining why you were late by a few minutes before you had even sat down yet.

Honestly, your kindness towards König was too much for him to bear, and his heart was near the point of exploding from joy from having you so concerned over punctuality, when he considered it a blessing that the engel in front of him would even spare him any time of their day.

Eyes crinkling in a smile, König shook his head. "Nein, schatz. There is not a thing to be sorry for."

"But there is! I always keep you waiting and It's my bad," you said, rubbing your arm. "Sorry."

He shook his head again, this time reassuringly. "Don't be."

Then, added. "You're worth the wait."

Not knowing what to make of this, you sat down, trying to hide the fact that his remark flustered you.

Coughing as you deliberately tried to change topics. "How was your day, König? Beat up any bad guys at all?"

A chuckle. "Das ist lustig," he admitted. "Funny, but I wish. Only been at the gym today. But I also have been devoting some of my time to studying English."

Raised eyebrows in admiration as you nodded your head. "Your English has certainly improved, König," you observed, noticing how König would commit fewer and fewer grammar mistakes when speaking, until he was confident enough to even use some colloquial idioms of his own. Of course, some of the German ones didn't translate so well, yet you couldn't deny that there was improvement.

Not having told König anything about it, you yourself had actually begun learning some German on your own to surprise him with it one day, yet with how you were progressing at the moment you thought that this would be better left unsaid for the time being. Your knowledge of the language only went as far as "Guten morgen" and "Mein Name ist King". So, nothing extraordinary.

You smiled, your eyes reflecting the cafeteria lights. "I'm sure by the end of this year you'll be the most well-spoken on base! You'll probably become more fluent than me soon."

König was lost in your sparkling eyes, his sight taking in all of your features. You were so beautiful, so perfect.

"Danke, schön, but I still have a long way to go." Momentarily glancing at your lips for a split of a second, before he quickly cleared his throat. "I had... I had actually something to ask you, maus."

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowed. "Really? What is it?"

The expectant expression on your face made König's voice hitch in his throat, suddenly forgetting all that he had carefully rehearsed and had revised for consecutive afternoons. "Y-you see—"

A thoughtful pause as he considered his next words, weighing the pros and cons of risking it all. "—From the day you sat down at my table, I— I've never felt this happiness in all my years on this world," he began steadily.

"My childhood... was... not the best—" He winced, and did not elaborate further. You didn't push him to, and waited patiently for him to finish. "—But... you make all those times I was unhappy forgettable when I make new memories with you. I couldn't be happier when you're with me. And—"

König took in a deep breath. "...Will you— will you do me the honour... of going on a date with me?"

Shock. This was not what you had expected. At all.

Your eyes were wide and throat dry as you licked your lips. No one had ever asked you on a date before. You hadn't dated a single person in all your years of living, or even went as far as having your first kiss, which was embarassing to admit. Too afraid to put yourself out there and keeping reserved in fear that you wouldn't be good enough, those same doubts entered your mind as you imagined König with someone better, someone more intelligent and more attractive, someone that always knew what to say in moments like these.

Not you, this moron that couldn't even learn some basic German for him, and the family's disappointing child which enlisted in the military as a last resort, with no qualifications good enough to secure you another job.

As you looked at the floor, König regretted ever bringing this up.

Oh Gods, did he cross a boundary? What if you didn't like him the way he liked you? What if— what if you were already in a relationship?! What if you were too nice to turn him down and tell him the truth?

It suddenly occured to you that you had not replied to König's proposal for a whole minute, and you pulled yourself together, reaching despairingly for his hand with a trembling one of your own, fearing that you blew everything.

"Oh my God, König— yes. Yes! I'd love to go on a date with you!"

König let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. "—Really? You— want to go on a date... with me?"

You nodded emphatically, compensating for your lack of response. "Yes! Fuck, I'm so sorry for not saying anything, I just—"

Quiet laughter. "I know, you're late to things," he teased, your face red. "Schatz, I think... I think we can make this work. Is— is it okay if I pick you up at 6 on Friday?"

"It's more than okay! It's perfect, König!" A goofy grin as you couldn't contain your child-like excitement. Then, a sheepish rub of the neck. "And... I pinky promise that I will be ready on time. I wouldn't miss our date for the world."

Later on, as he was rounding the corner and knew no one could see him, he punched at the air enthusiastically, feeling like he had just won the lottery; only, the grand prize was you.

Locking his bedroom door and immediately crossing off the date on his calendar, his body dropped on a chair.

With his head on his palm, he smiled.

He couldn't wait to see you again.

...

Note: I fed u guys with a fluffy fic in preparation for my upcoming one as imGONNA BREAK UR HEARTS INTO A MILLION PIECES WITH THE NEXT ONE U READ👺👺my next fic is angst Angst ANGST and u habe to be mentslly prepared for it... 💔

If u are sad throighout it and feel empty inside dont say that i djdnt warn you beacuse its gonna be some REAL shit rjbht there and abojt to get HELLA Depressing🗿🗿

Thankfully it is going to have SOME sort of happy conclusion to rub less salt in ur wounds🥲 and on top of that I posted this first so u dont get a doible whammy of angst<33