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#killing someone you love. loving the person who's killing you. being morned by people who should and one day will hate you
themeraldee · 3 days
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I was thinking about how what Homelander clearly considers part of Madelyn's betrayal, alongside the lying about him having a son, was her being afraid of him. And that fear being why she appeased him the way she did, *just like everyone else does*, when he'd hoped she was different. That she actually cared. But no, like everyone else who actually SEES him, she was scared of him. This made me think, what if he figured the only way a person could truly love him on a personal level would be if they'd had no exposure to who he is. Someone who doesn't know about the violence, who he can just be the charming hero in the sunlight for (I guess this would be pre his S3 revelation that certain people still like him even when he kills in broad daylight lol). Or so he hopes. He is desperate to please, after all. So then I thought, what if he somehow cultivated a relationship like this, away from Vought, and then this person was presented with the dark truth about him. Maybe from someone aligned with Butcher, maybe just accidentally, but for the first time he sees that familiar fear flickering in them too. This person who was supposed to be uncorrupted. Who was supposed to love him. Who he'd been so good for. I can see multiple endings to that scenario, some much darker than others. I guess a lot would depend on how this person reacted, if they could still accept him, how deep that fear goes. Anyway sorry for the very long ask! No pressure to do anything with this, I just wanted someone equally obsessed with this hot mess of a man to bounce it off of.
anon I AM OBSESSEDDDDDD. I feel a series brewing.... I honestly ADORE this idea. I love how heartbreaking it was to him that even though Madelyn has known him for so long and has been a part of like everything he's ever done she was still scared of him. How crushing must that feel that the person who's been by your side and at your beck and call for decades is afraid of you???
Him whisking you away to live this peaceful apple pie life with America's true hero you can't believe just happened to fall for you just to have the curtain pulled right in front of your eyes.
afagfhjdfadjlhf
I'm such a sucker for giving Homie all he wants and needs so like I totally want reader to go low-key darkside. Like. You realise noone will ever love you the way he does. Isn't a little grey morality worth this all-consuming eternal love you'd otherwise never feel again. Forever chasing this feeling the rest of your life.
After he finds out that someone spilled the beans to you he comes home crushed. You're nowhere to be seen. Again, another attempt at love ruined. Does he not deserve to have that? He undresses leaving his bloodied suit (after whatever carnage he came back from) in pieces on the floor frustrated, not bothering to clean up before you come home.
Except he wakes up to you being there in the morning cooking breakfast for him. You greet him with a, "good morning. I did my best to wash your suit. I didn't wanna ruin the fabric and throw it in the wash so I hope that's good enough. I really need you to find out for me how they usually wash it for you." You're being so nonchalant, talking about his bloody, viscera covered suit that you painstakingly scrubbed in the morning right as you're making some eggs and bacon for breakfast.
And he's kinda just staring at you shocked, waiting for you to meet his gaze. And when instead of fear he sees love and acceptance it's like his heart could burst from the relief.
ORRR it could go dark and sad - which I won't get into buutttt much to ponder.
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snowdropluck204 · 2 days
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A Date With Death - Spencer Reid x Unsub Fem! Reader - Pt 2
Hiya my lovelies... It's been a while... Mainly because I've been trying to write an original book, but hit a snag, so I'm back to my criminal minds centre of my brain to try and get some inspiration, hopefully this works... Anyway! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Xxx
TW: Murder, gore, blood, mentions of rapists, paedophiles, abuse, y/n being mistaken for male, assisted suicide.
Tag List: @vexis-world @inexplicableeee @flowercrownsandtrauma @alysianc @btsiguess-kpop @devilslittlebabyxx @delusional-4-fake-people @mega-kittyglitter-1 @esposadomd
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(y/n) pov
I watched from around the corner of the hallway, waiting for Isabel Jackson to come home, waiting for her to stumble back to her hovel as she did most nights, either from her graveyard shift or from a night of drinking. This particular woman, wasn't as bad as a lot of the people I had previously disposed of, she hadn't killed anyone herself, but she was the reason for two young men, taking their own lives.
I sighed, thinking about the news articles, I remembered this case, it happened about two years ago and was thrown out of court. Because a woman couldn't possibly be capable of raping and abusing four, strapping young men? Could she? Granted the public believed that the person killing all these people was a man, probably not thinking anyone participating in such gruesome events could be a woman. I sighed once more. This was all for one purpose.
I watched, through the camera doorbell, as the woman came home, stumbling into her apartment and promptly passing out, as I could see all the cameras' feeds on my tablet. I waited, for around an hour, before walking up to the door, my mask on, I had decided to lean into the press and media, wearing a mask again, but this time, one of my own design. It was a kabuki mask, one of a skull, bright, innocent colours, like that of my original candy skull mask, but this one was mine. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a long, black rectangular box, a device I had invented, I waved it across the door lock, hearing the soft kachunck as the tumblers fell into place. I looked up at the camera, knowing that the police would be able to see me, I waved.
I opened the door and stepped inside. I took great care in disabling the security system, the cameras, the alarms, of course it wasn't difficult, I was the one who had designed the system, I had been the one to sell them to her...
3rd Person pov
The police, and therefore the BAU, had been notified of finding another body, matching the unsub's MO. A man had called the police, stating that he had just come off his shift at the graveyard, the same one the body was found, when he saw someone leaving, couldn't see a face or clothing, it was barely lit in the early morning. But he walked over, feeling the whole thing was rather sketchy, seeing a dead body just outside the gates of cemetery.
The victim still carried his I.D, whether it was left on the body by design or the killer had forgotten about it was unknown. The man's name was David James, he had been previously convicted of domestic assault, and later, sexual assault and paedophilia. Spencer called Garcia, asking for a background check on the latest victim and receiving a call, not two minutes later with what she had found.
Spencer put the call on speaker phone, holding it up awkwardly, so that Morgan and Hotch could listen into the call, "Go ahead Garcia," Spencer said, eagerly awaiting what she had found.
Garcia sighed, coming through the phone crackled and morphed, "This guy was creepy, not like Hannibal creepy, but just icky kinda creepy. He was arrested a few years ago, police having gotten a call from the neighbours that they heard screaming coming from his place, he was taken in by the police, his wife was bloodied and bruised, with broken fingers, obviously he'd beaten the stuffing out of her, poor woman. There wasn't enough evidence to make it stick, because without the wife's testimony, apparently the rest of the evidence was circumstantial... Morons." Garcia groaned.
"But then there was a sticking of one charge, being sexual assault and paedophilia... Ew... Apparently he molested his own daughter when she was ten... He spent only a year in jail, he made a deal and walked with no parole, that was about five years ago, and unfortunately his daughter couldn't deal with the trauma, she took her own life in a foster home, two years ago. Her mom ran away when she found out her husband was released from prison... She was found a year ago, overdosed, they were buried together at Linwood Cemetery." Garcia finished her deep dive, Spencer was intrigued.
"Wait, Linwood Cemetery?" He asked softly. Garcia confirmed. "That's where the body was found," He informed her. "So the killer knows the specifics about his crimes, knows where his family and previous abuse victims were buried and left him outside the graveyard?" Spencer asked, crouching down to look at the body, seeing a note on one side of the corpse. "That's new..." He said, wearing rubber gloves and picking up the note.
The note read, "No entry for sinners."
"A note from the unsub?" Hotch asked, looking over Spencer's shoulder.
"I don't think so," Morgan responded, "The guy who found the body works here, he seemed to be a pretty big fan of the unsub, he was wearing a pin that said "Don't fear the reaper." Like that song?" He said, "I think this is just that weirdo trying to get fifteen seconds of fame." Morgan rolled his eyes at the idea.
Garcia had been following the media response towards the unsub, most people were completely enamoured with him, that he was doing work that should have been taken care of.
Spencer leaned back towards the body, taking care to look through every aspect of the scene, the body was facing up, arms crossed over his chest, a white lily laced between the fingers, cleaned of most of the blood, which hadn't leaked much onto the ground where he was lying, so the unsub had cleaned up most of the blood at a separate location, most likely the victim's home, before bringing him here. This could have been a sign of remorse... Or a way of leaving less evidence.
The garrote was once again, wrapped around the neck, digging painfully into the skin, leaving deep, bloody grooves in the throat and the handle had the word paedophile carved jaggedly. The carving seemed different to the other victims, this one was angry and harsh, you could see just how much pressure was forced into the wood. Spencer's brow furrowed in concentration, "The unsub seems to have a connection with paedophiles, either they were assaulted as a child or knew somebody who was being assaulted and didn't do anything, that feeling of guilt probably followed them into adulthood and they're trying to compensate for their lack of power then, by forcing their will on these types of felons now.
This kind of unsub is especially dedicated, I doubt he'd stop until he's caught, there's only a finite amount of people he could kill, eventually the felons would become harder to locate, or the unsub would simply get too old... Either way, we need to catch them or he'll just continue..." Spencer finished, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Hotch looked on at him in worry, seeing him so befuddled was odd, to everyone on the team.
When they were ready, the team went back to the local station, ready to give the cops the profile they were working with. Standing in a circle around the group of desks in the bullpen, each member of the team filled in the police on what they knew. "We believe we're searching for a man in their mid twenties, not necessarily poor or well off, more middle class, probably has a job working with parts, computers, cars, something he can have control over." Hotch began.
Morgan stepped forward, to continue, "We believe something happened to this man in his childhood, either he was sexually abused or someone in his life was and he was powerless to do anything about it, now he's taking the law into his own hands to fix what he couldn't fix back then."
Elle began to speak, "He won't be open about his feelings on the news and the press, this isn't about fame and media portrayal, this is personal, he has a target in mind, we just don't know who that is yet, but we do know that he won't stop until this object of his obsession is taken care of, or until we catch him."
Spencer watched his teammates thoughtfully, he was conflicted about his feelings regarding these killings, it was obviously a horrible thing to have to look at the string of victims this unsub had left behind, but these were bad people, so maybe they deserved this kind of end? He stepped forward, "This unsub is most likely calm and collected, someone you could tell your troubles to, someone you can share secrets with, someone charismatic and easygoing. They might be religious, probably some kind of old druid or pagan religion, and they're the kind of person to feel deeply upsetting about hearing about the loss of a person, even if they didn't know them."
Spencer was frustrated with himself, most of the profile wasn't conclusive. The unsub might not be religious, they might have just been incredibly intelligent and throwing the police off by adding a religious format to the killings... They might not have been sympathetic towards their victims, but want to seem as though they are... Everything about this profile felt... Wrong...
One of the local cops came into the room out of breath, "Sorry to interrupt, we've found another body, almost half a mile away from the last..." He said anxiously, Spencer glanced at the rest of the BAU, Gideon meeting his tired eyes. Each time he thought they were getting closer, the unsub seemed to be at least three steps ahead of them...
They were probably on their next victim already...
(y/n) pov
Isabel Jackson, wasn't difficult to deal with, she was so wasted that she barely woke up before I slit her throat, the feeling of her blood seeping into my clothes made me feel ill, I couldn't help the shivering and retching as got back to my car. I sighed, realising there was still someone else I had to visit, someone who wasn't on my list necessarily, but was someone I genuinely did care about.
When I saw the text I was left, I couldn't ignore it, I drove to a suburb neighbourhood, mostly populated by elders, this house was no different. I stepped in through the gap in the back fence, walking through the backyard under the cover of night, I used my key to get into the house through the back door, walking through the house I'd known all my life. This house in particular belonged to a lovely old man named Reggie, he was just the sweetest old fellow, but now...
I walked into the room that was once a cosy living room, now it had been converted into a bedroom, after Reggie got too weary and frail to handle the stairs, the room was now filled with bottles of pills and ointments, heart monitors, IV drips and Reggie... Poor, poor Reggie.
Stage four, terminal pancreatic cancer, he'd beaten cancer once, when I was still small, but he was exhausted, too tired to fight, I stepped closer to the bed, seeing Reg, sleeping, even sleeping he looked tired, each breath looked like it was agony to take. I sat next to him, taking his cold hand in mine, "Reg?" I said softly, trying not to choke on tears and the lump in my throat.
He startled awake, seeing me, he settled back against the pillows. Being that I was inside the house, the curtains were closed, I had taken off my mask, showing my face, I probably looked almost as tired as he was. He smiled weakly, raising his hand from mine to cup my cheek, "Is that my little duck?" He asked, teasingly, that same glint in his eye from all those years ago that never seemed to fade. I smiled, nodding.
When I was a child, from when I was five til I was about eight, I had an obsession with ducks, I had shirts with them, I wore a onesie with a bill and duck tail, apparently I even spent a good few weeks quacking at people... Reggie never let me forget it, I remember when I was a teenager I would roll my eyes at his teasing comments, now, I couldn't even laugh. I leaned into his hand resting against my cheek.
Reggie took in my appearance, a small frown came onto his face, "Never expected my lil duck to become a murderer..." He mumbled. I sighed, nodding, even though it pained me to hear his comment.
"I know Reg... But I have to do this... for everyone that they hurt, or could hurt... For chick..." I told him, my eyes filling with tears, struggling to keep them from trailing down my cheeks. Reggie's eyes grew sad when I mentioned her, he knew exactly who I was doing this for. "When I got the text from your daughter... I didn't know what to do... I didn't know if I would be hearing your last words or taking them..." At that, I broke, leaning my head against his bed, soaking the covers with my tears, my chest sore from my sobs.
I felt Reggie's shaky hand rest on my head, I looked up at him, "You know what I want you to do, but don't feel you have to... I don't want this resting on your conscious." His voice was almost pathetic, quiet, he was simply ready to die...
I sighed, pulling open my bag, the kit I brought out was relatively lightweight, but the gravity of what I was about to do seemed to be pulling my down. I pulled out some syringes. "I got these from a nurse friend I have, they'll put you into a sleep you won't wake up from..." I told him, trying to be stoic, but I could feel myself breaking. This man was like a grandpa to me, to chicky... We would play here after school when our parents were working, hell even when they were, Reggie would chase us about, we'd play tag, hide and seek, and Reg would make us hot chocolate with a horrific amount of marshmallows and whipped cream as he'd tell us stories about monsters and dragons and princesses that were sick of being saved.
Reggie leaned back, closing his eyes, as I injected the serum, "Thank you, my little duck..." He whispered, as his eyes fell closed and his face went slack. I sighed, the dam breaking as I sobbed over the loss. After a few minutes, I laced the flower between his fingers, kissed his head and turned off the beeping monitor, I wiped my face, pulled down my mask and left the house, not even bothering to hide from anyone that could have seen me. I got in my car, and drove, I didn't know where I was driving until I got there...
I was in the field me and chick used to visit, meadow and streams everywhere, my knees began to ache, like they couldn't hold me up anymore. I fell to the floor and began to dig with my gloved hands, I felt like I'd been digging for hours, but I leaned over and screamed. I screamed and screamed until my voice was raw, all the sound being swallowed by this hole in the ground...
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Hope this chapter was okay, this was more about setting out a background for your character! Hopefully it won't take me too long to write part three, granted I say that every time... Wish me luck! Xxx
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ruporas · 1 year
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lonely
[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”
The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”
The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"
The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."
The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"
The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"
The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"
The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."
The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#but onto this comic... i think and talk a LOT about vash's loneliness bc trigun is just. kind of central on that for a good while! esp in#the original manga he was alone for a good portion of it and he tends to keep others away like how he ran away from meryl and milly when#they tried to tag along. and he was kind of bothered when he realized ww was following him around Too. at the core even though he loves#humans and he loves deeply the people he does know -- he isnt really much of a people person and i think thats been the case since he was#young considering his initial doubts towards humans... with the exception of kids bc kids dont give him moral conflicts. so suddenly#here comes wolfwood!!! his guide. someone TRULY affixed to him until he has to get to knives. someone who isnt budging and someone whos#really good at following him around and even seems like he goes like 5 steps ahead to make sure vash doesnt run on him#in one way its - i don't want you to follow me bc i don't want to burden you and i don't want you to kill the people i want to save.#in another way its - i like this companionship. i like waking up to you and i like ending the way with you. i like talking to someone who#knows my world. i like being in your space and sometimes i enjoy talking about our day#theyre just living together. like. roadtrip buddies or theyre also under the same roof because they're going everywhere together.#trimax they mainly spend their mornings together and if they had personal business attend the other person would usually know and itd only#be during the midday. anyway bc of this kind of companionship i figure that vash eventually grew accustom to it and he really. cant go back#to the kind of loneliness from before. it's harder to imagine and it'd be harder to withstand. esp after 2 years with lina and her grandma.#ruporas art
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astonmartinii · 6 months
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it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader
when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple
request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx
author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others
yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off
view all comments
user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us
user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense
yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem
danielricciardo: i knew you missed me
yourusername: sure, jan.
user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me
maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that
yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes
user4: babe? are the flowers from max?
maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️
yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(
user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people
liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you
yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?
liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨
yourusername: no comment
liamlawson30: choke.
yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine
user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever
user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others
oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend
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user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT
landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?
oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure
landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?
oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms
landonorris: FAKE NEWS
oscarpiastri: okay buddy
user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that
user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens
user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!
logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see
oscarpiastri: and what?
logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long
landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?
oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?
logansargent: there's levels to this game norris
landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE
oscarpiastri: okay girly
user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others
yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨
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user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT
user19: but this mystery man IS
maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?
yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep
maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you
yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE
maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him
yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️
maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP
user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend
user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit
user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol
user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her
this comment was liked by yourusername
danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?
yourusername: snooze you lose
danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS
danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB
yourusername: protecting my peace
danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster
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oscarpiastri
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me
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user27: so this was the special occasion?
user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?
user29: this is now my roman empire
yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud
oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you
yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you
oscarpiastri: i love you too xx
user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought
user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some
logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol
oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it
logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying
yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)
landonorris: I KNEW IT
oscarpiastri: no you didn't
landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt
oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions
landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???
yourusername: boo hoo
landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me
yourusername: good ❤️
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others
tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)
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user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition
logansargent: logan erasure
yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️
logansargent: SCORE
user33: every time you post there's a new plushie
yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win
user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE
oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor
yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR
oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor
yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works
maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again
yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it
oscarpiastri: not even for me :(
yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)
oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(
maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today
yourusername: we ARE cute thank you
oscarpiastri: the CUTEST
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fin.
note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary
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sh1-n0bu · 3 months
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♡︎ 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 ♡︎
characters: sub!AFAB!scar x gn!dom!reader
warnings: dissected organ and blood mentions, fingering, dry humping, squirting, clit pinching, light masochism, overstimulation, bondage, degrading, possessive and obsessive behavior, scar giving off HEAVY yandere vibes, reader has lightning powers so inappropriate use of lightning powers
notes: in loving memory of scar's onigiri manko😔 dividers from cafekitsune. this is a repost since tumblr is being a bitch🙄
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being constantly stalked from the shadows can cause a person to do all sorts of things, y'know?
it started out small.
gifts being left at the front of your doorsteps, flowers, bouquets, sweets and snacks even ranging to weapons or things you needed to make a new weapon being left in the same old gift box. red, with white satin tied up in a cute bowtie at the front. you thought it was a cute way for your little secret admirer to notify "hey, it's me again!" to you each time they leave a gift.
but then, it started to get... a bit odd.
the gifts that used to be left at your doorstep with a knock would now be sitting inside your home. on the couch, the kitchen counter, the bed when you sometimes walk into your bedroom or even on the bathroom counter. the same old red colored box with a white satin in its stupid bowtie. as much as you appreciated this gesture of your secret admirer leaving you all sorts of gifts and presents, it had started to become... creepy. the mere thought of this person stalking you, knowing where you live, constantly coming back over and over to leave a gift for you to now downright breaking into your home.
you notified a midnight ranger of course. who in their sane mind would allow this thing to keep happening, even if they do have powers to protect themselves?
two rangers came by your home. snapping a few photos of the evidence, checking the locks and windows, under the bed, in the attic, basement - almost any and every place someone could hide in and places someone could break in through - they found nothing. whoever this stalker of yours was, they were a good one at getting rid of their traces.
of course, still worried for a citizen, they asked you to stay at a relative or a friend's place for a few days as the two rangers stay behind to capture your stalker when they come back eventually. bad move. the exact next morning, a few more midnight rangers came knocking at your friend's door, asking for your presence. the moment you saw the rangers, you felt a churning feeling in your gut. and you were right to feel that because turns out your stalker had ended up murdering the two rangers who stayed behind, dissecting their hearts and sewing them into one to create the cartoonish heart shape.
all wrapped up in red box and white satin bowtie with blood on the ends. paired with a small note slipped under the bowtie.
"do you like my gifts, darling :)?"
this was getting out of hand. you need to find a way to confront your stalker by yourself and take matters into your own hands. or else, who knows how many more midnight rangers have to die until your stalker comes to you. hell, even your friend could be killed because you chose to stay in their home for the night.
you began with a list of suspects on a notebook. red and white and apparently strong and deranged enough to kill not one but two midnight rangers as if they were still in training. mortefi? no. the researcher was too busy and besides, he's a standing citizen. completely normal and able to keep himself in line without turning into a stalker, fanatic fan. danjin? sure, she was unusually strong for a resonator who had just awakened her tacet marks but she would never kill people over someone she simply adored. encore? now you're the one who is going crazy here, [name].
for a brief moment you thought of a certain someone who had his eyes on you for a little while and wasn't afraid to show his infatuation with you. scar, one of the overseers of the fractsidus organization. one insane bastard, strong enough to kill two rangers as if they meant nothing to him and not to mention, he had a history of stalking you before. the hunch wasn't far fetched but now, all that you needed to prove this theory of yours is to capture your stalker. and if your stalker really is indeed scar, then you needed to teach some sense into him.
carefully, setting up traps in your own bedroom, all the while continuing to act if everything was okay and you weren't feeling eyes digging holes into the back of your skull, you slipped under your covers. turning the lights off, making sure to not exactly clutch your hand to trigger the trap, you closed your eyes as your breathing slows and the windows to your living room slides open.
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‘that certainly didn't take long...’ you thought to yourself, entertained by just easy it was to fool your stalker and how quickly they slipped inside your home. just a few minutes after you laid your head on the pillow too.
the sound of footsteps grow closer, light and quick like the pitter patter of raindrops against your window making their way up the stairs and towards your room. your stalker seem to hesitate, their shoes stopping just outside your door as if they were straining their ears to listen to your breathing. as if satisfied with your act of being asleep, the sound of the door to your room opening is heard. the gentle shuffling of clothes and light heel taps making their way into the room. you could hear the box in their hands. that cursed red box with its white satin tied into a bow.
their steps make their way to the side of your bed, on the nightstand beside it as they place down their box of gift with a quiet thud. holding your breath, slowing your breathing as much as possible, you listen on to your stalker. light breathing, a constant shuffling noise and the scent of… ash? that scent gave it away. the scent of ash, sulfur and a very old dried blood.
scar.
of course it was him. of fucking course it was that damned overseer of the fractsidus. an old enemy, a rival and certainly the very same bastard who had a history of stalking you before.
as much as you wanted to jump out of your bed and strangle the bastard by his throat at this very moment, you held yourself back. grinding your teeth slightly in annoyance and biding your time until a clawed finger pushes back a strand of your hair from your face. that was the perfect moment for you to take action, squeezing your hand as the sound if electrical strings is heard, binding scar in his place and hitting him with a high voltage. throwing the blanket off of yourself, you jump away towards the other side of the bed from where scar was. slow and cautious steps towards where a thud is heard, peeking over the edge of the bed, you see his unconscious body. tied up with electrical cords of your making and zapped unconscious.
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“yes, it’s me again. that person who was being stalked and gave a call… yeah. i managed to capture my stalker and he’s currently in my bedroom right now. if you could send a few patrollers or midnight rangers, it would be—“
“aww… getting right of me so soon, darling?” scar speaks up, voice scratchy from the earlier stunt you pulled, shaking his head as he tries to clear away any lingering unconsciousness. he wasn’t sharp enough to notice the trap you laid out for him to step into nor was he strong enough to endure the zap of your electricity. not like he minded. he wanted all the time in the world with you and if being tied up and shocked did the trick, he would have it happen to him all the time. as long as it was you who was doing the shocking.
abruptly ending the call — but managing to get through the main point of your call — you turn towards your captive. that annoying scarred face and the lopsided smile that he always has on his face. how much you wanted to wring out his neck to get rid of that smile.
“you look way too happy for someone who got caught” you say, watching him for any sort of movement. nothing. he was just sitting there, kneeled in your floor like a well trained pet all the while keeping an eye on you with those mismatched, puppy eyes.
“what can i say? i slipped and i’m caught. but are these ropes and strings really necessary, darling? you have another plan for me?” he asks, wiggling his shoulders slightly as his smile grows at the furrow of your brows. yes, get angry, get agitated. he loved to see that expression on your face, that anger, that fire. how he wanted to stoke that little ember in your eyes until it turned into a blazing inferno like his own.
“why don’t you learn to shut up first?”
“why don’t you learn to zap me with just enough voltage to make me squirm?”
dear sentinels, this guy was really getting under your skin. he always did and he still does. that annoying smirk, the constant witty banter and the way he would push your buttons all the while whispering filth into your mind.
“bend me over the desk, darling”, “the couch looking painfully empty and clean”, “my zippers are unlocked, y’know?” all sorts of erotic words and suggestions flow from his lips every time he opens them, painting this image in your mind. of him bent over the counter, a quickie in the corner, hell, he even once suggested you to just tear off his jumpsuit and fuck him to your satisfaction in his domain. no one would see or hear you two, as he coos out, dodging your attacks as a red card burns in his hand.
pushing himself up, he trudges his way towards where you stood at the end of your bed, arms still tied behind his back as he leans in close to you. too close. you could smell the sulfur from him even more distinctly now.
“come on, darling. don’t act so cold with me. you and i have known each other for so long, it’s about time we take our relationship to the next level” he coos out, leaning in closer and closer while you lean away from him. until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, causing you to fall back onto the soft mattress while scar climbs on top of you. cheeky bastard was grinning so smugly, straddling your lap like it was his favorite seat in the world. maybe to him, it was.
“in your wet dreams. there’s no relationship between us except for the times we nearly kill each other. that’s it” you hiss, propping yourself up on your elbows to glare at him. the anger in your eyes and the way you easily disregarded him like he was nothing made scar shiver, his hips moving tantalizingly over your groin like he was trying to seduce you.
“oh darling! how did you know i have wet dreams about you? in fact, one of them was just like this! with you under me and having me all tied up♡︎“ scar coos out, his expression brightening like a puppy who just got his favorite treat. sneaky bastard, twisting your words and using them against you while getting what he was after. you were sure this is what he wanted the most. to allow this to happen, to let himself be under your mercy. it didn't surprise you at all.
though, you would be an idiot to say you didn’t recognize it. the signs of arousal that he emitted. the slight flush of his cheeks, the heavier breathing and the wetness coating his and your pants. bastard was getting turned on. but… so were you.
hesitantly, your hand reached for the zipper of his jumpsuit’s crotch, the area already wet with his slick. scar nearly whined at that, moving around on your lap as if trying to get you to unzip it quickly. getting the hint, you did as he wanted. the zipper opening up slowly, his dripping cunt coming on display for you.
“tsk tsk. so eager to get fucked you’re not gonna bother to wear underwear?” you ask, clicking your tongue as your thumb comes up to circle around his enlarged clit. scar nearly stumbles over, his knees buckling as he thrust his hips, trying to get your fingers inside himself already.
“why… would i need to wear one if i’m going to be visiting you, darling?” the pyromaniac groans when your thumb leave his clit, leaving him dripping and clenching around nothing. but his disappointment is short lived when you push a finger inside him, stretching him open and making him gasp out loud. just a single finger, buried to the second knuckle and he was already whining as he tries to ride your finger to the best of his abilities. if his hands were free, he would have placed them on your shoulders for balance as he bounces himself over your fingers.
alas, that was not the case and scar was forced to make do with his current predicament, grinding himself down onto your finger while you watch him unamused. when he tried to bounce on your finger, it slipped out thanks to the excessive slick coating your finger, making him whine at the loss while his cunt eagerly wait for your finger to be back inside him again.
“aanhg—! gyaah… mgghh♡︎♡︎ ohhh darling, you sure know how to please my cunt♡︎” a choked moan comes from him when you push two fingers inside his gummy walls, prodding and fucking him open. knuckles deep inside, you make a scissoring motion, making his knees feel weak as he sits down on your lap, letting you finger him as much as you wanted. he was thoroughly enjoying himself it seemed, as he grinds his hips back and forth, his soft cunt weeping more and more of his juices as they coat your hand.
“you… you really know how to please a cunt, don’t you, darling? all mmgh—! ah anngh ah ah ahh♡︎♡︎ all deep♡︎ and rough♡︎ f-feels like you’re trying to get me to squ-uuuhncckk♥︎♥︎!!” scar trails off, his cocky words dying in his throat, replaced by a shrill squeal when you zapped his cunt with a low electricity. opening his mouth, the pyromaniac tries to say something again only to get cut off by another high pitched scream when you decided to zap both his cunt and clit at the same time.
“like i said, you really should learn to shut your mouth, scar” you tease him, a pleased grin on your face as you take in the mess he had become on your lap. thin trail off drool on his chin, flushed red and hazy eyed. there were even tears forming in his mismatched eyes, looking like he was about to cry.
“m-make meeehnn♡︎♡︎ make me th-then, darling♥︎!“ scar manages to say, a whiny groan falling from his drool covered lips as your fingers pick up their pace, now easily fucking into his loosened hole. filthy lewd shlap! shlap! shlap! could be heard, the wet noises of his cunt mixing together with his punched out moans, turning into a blend of beautifully filthy noises.
“filthy whore who loves to walk around with his pussy out should learn to hold his tongue” you coo out, mocking him for his jumpsuit style as your fingers curl upwards, searching and finding that one spot that caused him to see stars in his eyes. a sharp gasp falling, his head thrown back as his legs shake like a weak lamb’s while your fingers continue to hit that one spot. pushing your knees up, you allow him to lean back on your knees, arms struggling against the strings and ropes while you continue to abuse that bundle of nerves inside his gummy walls.
“shh-shuttt awghhh unngh up!! shut up, dawrlinnggg—♥︎♥︎!!” scar trails off, a wet, punched out wail coming from him as your free hand pinches at his hardened clit. pinching at the bundle of nerves, your fingers squeeze around it simultaneously as the rough pads of your fingers hit his g-spot, making scar let out delirious noises of pleasure. he was far gone to hold a proper conversation with you and you could see that. the tears that were collecting in his mismatched eyes now falling in fat globs, red and grey eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his legs thrash around on the bed.
“dirty dirty boy, look at yourself. not only making trouble for me with your stalker tendencies but also getting my sheets and clothes dirty” you coo out, the fingers that were pinching at his clit tugging on them slightly. scar let out a loud scream at that, throwing his head back as his legs squeeze around your waist tightly as he comes undone on your fingers. but you weren’t planning to stop anytime to soon. you needed to teach him a lesson to stop bothering you while also letting out the pent up anger that he caused by deciding to be a prick.
“who gave you the permission to cum, you filthy whore” you bite out, the anger and annoyance seeping into your tone as your fingers stretch his cunt open, continuing to push against his sweet spot. scar started to sob, the pleasure being too much, nearly bordering on pain but his masochistic spirit wanted you to keep going and to never stop. he wanted both the pain and the pleasure. anything, anything you gave him, he would gladly take greedily.
“dar—! darling!! dawrlinnn’♡︎ ’m sorry... ’m sorry ’m soo showwryy♡︎♡︎♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be soo baawdd♥︎♥︎” scar sobs out, punched out, whiny moans and shrill squeals making it harder to understand what he was saying, but you managed to catch on. despite his words and his wet apologies, you knew he wouldn’t stop being a nuisance at your side. that was just how scar was. unreadable, maniacal and a pain in your ass. so even if he does walk away from your bedroom today with drunken apologies and trembling legs, you knew he would just come back again the next day, searching for more. especially now since he has gotten the taste of how good your fingers could fuck his dripping cunt open until he cries deliriously.
sobbing out apologies mingled with how your fingers were fucking his pretty pussy until it bruises, scar lets out a weak whine whenever you pinch at his clit harder than usual. the occasional violent jolts and squeals falling whenever you zap his gushing cunny, crying about how mean you were.
“mmghhh… go-gonna cum…! gonna cum again♡︎ aamgh eeck♥︎♥︎ g-gonna cum on your f-fingers againn..! d-darling! darlingdarlingdarlingdarl-iiinngh♥︎!!” babbling incoherently about his rapidly nearing release, scar’s head is thrown back, mouth slack open in a silent scream when you zap both his pussy walls and clit at the same time. legs trembling like a lamb’s, threatening to close if it weren’t for your body between them, his body jolts violently as his gushing cunt squirts out his cum, painting your entire hand and pants with his slick.
fingering him through his high, you withdraw your fingers only after he whines for a break, the mess that he created didn’t exactly bothering him as he leans in to steal a kiss from your lips. a dazed attitude, drunken look in his eyes as he shoots you a lopsided grin, scar leans in to whisper when he would be visiting again next time. and he specifically asked for more than just your fingers. the greedy bastard.
“i’ll see ya’ then, darling♡︎!” before you knew it, he pulled out one of his red cards from his back pocket, opening a portal for himself to escape through just as there comes knocks on your front door.
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indecisivemuch · 6 months
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The Pact
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).
Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.
Word count: 3.4k
You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.
Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 
Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.
Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 
To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.
“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.
“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.
“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”
“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”
“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 
Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 
“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”
“Why?” Luke questioned.
“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”
Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.
Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.
“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”
“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”
A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.
“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 
Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 
“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.
A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’
“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.
“Deal.”
Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.
During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.
“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.
Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.
Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 
Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.
However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.
The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.
However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.
You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 
You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.
“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.
“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.
With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 
“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.
“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”
“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 
“...No, but—”
“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”
“He doesn’t like me like that.”
“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”
“Show up to what?”
“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”
“Where did he leave the note?”
“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”
“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 
Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 
“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.
“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.
“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.
“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.
That was when everything made sense.
“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.
“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 
You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 
“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”
Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.
“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?
So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.
All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.
“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.
However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?
“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.
“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”
You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.
“I want you.”
And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.
“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”
“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.
“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.
“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.
Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 
“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.
“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.
Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 
Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:
Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).
Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).
Step 3. Confess (tick).
Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).
-------------------------
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dumplingsjinson · 1 year
Text
List of random dialogue prompts 
“I was never a morning person, but then I started waking up to your face and you know… Maybe mornings aren’t that bad, after all.” 
“Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” 
“I fucking hate you.” “No you don’t. Take that back right now.” 
“You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”  
“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” 
“You look stupid as all hell right now.”
“I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can.” 
“You’ve given me so many reasons to walk away.” “Then why don’t you walk away? It’s not like I’m keeping you hostage here.” “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s because I love you.” 
“…Damn it all to hell, if I don’t get to have you tonight then I’m never going to be able to have you.” 
“Let me call you mine, just for tonight.”
“I think you and I make an amazingly stupid pair.” “I know! Our two brain cells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.” 
“I’m going to have so much fun with you.”
“Oh God, yes, right there— oh my God, just like that, please don’t stop.” “…Can you stop that? You’re making it sound like we’re in a porno and now I’m highly uncomfortable.” 
“Bet you they don’t make you sound like that, do they?” 
“Fuck, you’re such a wreck, and because of me, too.” 
“Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.” “Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” “I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.” 
“You are driving me insane and I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”
“Is hating me your only personality trait?”
“Never scare me like that again!” 
“Oh, don’t worry. I have every plan to make you submit to me.”
“I’m not even gonna lie, I’m just so fucking obsessed with you.” 
“That could be us.” “That is us.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you— slow down, you’ll get what you want soon enough.”
“I want you to remember every single second of this.” 
“Bet you they can’t make you feel the way I do.” “Bet’s on.” “Wait, what? That was not my intention—”
“Hm, but I think I like having you spread out like this. Such a gorgeous sight.” 
“Come and get your fix.”
“…You’re an addiction I never want to quit.” 
“I had nothing to live for, but then you came into my life. So thank you.” 
“Why’d you— why’d you do that?” “B-Because I promised you I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 
“I swear if we get caught then I’m actually going to kill you.” 
“You think I wanted this to happen?!”
“Just when I was about to give up…”
“I trusted you with my life.” “Well, I’m sorry but you’re clearly very gullible.”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same as I do, then I’ll leave you alone.” 
“You know, maybe you should bet on something else the next time instead of betting on someone’s fucking feelings.” 
“You’re such a dork.” “Yeah, no wonder you’re so in love with me.”
“Does me doing all these things not account for anything?” “I never asked you to do those things for me, though, did I?”
“You nearly foiled our plan, you idiot!”
“I… I think I’m happy.” “You think? So you’re not one hundred percent certain?”
“Who’s laughing now?” “…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.” 
“I’m tired of being on the sidelines.” 
“You actually came back.”
“Christ on a fucking bike, I could kiss you right now.”
“That was a bold move.”
“We’re going to be late, all because you couldn’t stop scrolling through that damn phone of yours while taking your damn sweet time to shit!” 
“Kinda sucks that I can only have you like this.” 
“I fell in love, so hard, and so fast, but a part of me knew it wasn’t going to last.” 
“Your heart’s always on your sleeve.” “Only around you, because you’re the only one who knows me so well. Too well, in fact.”  
(pt. 2) | (pt. 3)
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maxtermind · 3 months
Text
SCENE 1 :: YOU TORE ME RIGHT APART ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧
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★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: oh fuck okay here we go! let me know what you guys think so far <3 what are the theories!! ahhhhhh this is more introductory? but lots of drama nevertheless <3 please don't mention the diff twin pics, i'll start crying!
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( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
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yn.user 41 mins ago
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yn.user boys are here to support their papa!
username OMG THE IT BABIES ARE BACK ON TRACK charlesleclerc I know they were rooting for me in red🏎 I loved the bracelet btw❤️‍🩹 ⤷ carlossainz dress up leo in red and leave my kids alone username I WOULD KILL TO HAVE Y/N AND CARLOS AS MY PARENTS carlossainz papa won this for his family👍 ⤷ username it's so cute that even though they are separated, carlos never leaves out y/n ⤷ username I think it's his loss, he wants them back so he's playing a persona w words like 'family' lol ⤷ username please get a life, touch some grass🙏 username THE BABIES MADE A BRACELET FOR CARLOS ⤷ landonorris I got one toooooo
carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)
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instagram stories
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lily is typing... (y/n's pov)
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twitter
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carlossainz 20 mins ago
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carlossainz who said weekends with papa are a bore?
landonorris whoring on main papa sainz? ⤷ carlossainz please unfollow❤️ username DILFFFFF username carlos can I also be your baby mama???? y/n.user MUMMA MISSES HER BABIES ⤷ carlossainz we miss you too ⤷ username pretty sure she was talking about the kids carlos lmao username it's so strange that now we get the updates from separate accounts I miss the og paddock fam ⤷ username well people move on so🤷‍♀️ ⤷ username only the real ones rmb the sainz x y/n post spams lmao
yn.user just now
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yn.user stole my tortured heart💫
username who plays cards alone on a beach? 👀 username y/n’s cryptic post has me guessing mhmmm a new love interest maybe?! ⤷ username cards on the beach when alone? definitely not alone. who’s the mystery company hehe carlossainz looks like a peaceful day. glad you're finding time for yourself! ⤷ yn.user hope the boys are still up! returning the call soon🥰 lilymhe finally enjoying some well-deserved relaxation💖 ⤷ yn.user love youuu username i see cards but no players. who's with you y/n username we need more context omg is this a date ⤷ username probably with lily lol username at first i thought you were with carlos but he's in the comments soooo does that mean a new romance
carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)
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f1.wags 2 mins ago
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f1.wags Our sources have spotted Y/N, ex-partner of F1 driver Carlos Sainz, enjoying a cozy dinner with an unidentified man. The two were seen sharing intimate moments, sparking rumors of a new romance. Could this be the start of a new chapter for Y/N? Stay tuned for more updates as we dig deeper into this developing story.
username wow, moving on already? poor carlos username she couldn't wait a little longer before flaunting her new man username guess she never really loved carlos. just saying ⤷ username carlos deserves better than someone who moves on so fast ⤷ username its been almost half a year? username poor kids. this is why you should never have kids out of wedlock ⤷ username hey good morning, i think you time traveled to 200 years forward. please go back username she’s just trying to make carlos jealous. grow up, y/n username so much for being a loving mother? priorities lol ⤷ username boys were with carlos for one weekend and this is how she spends it ⤷ username from a perfect family to this? disappointing username carlos is better off without her. clearly, she didn’t care about him ⤷ username fr y/n's true colors are showing now. carlos dodged a bullet
carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
Note
Clumsy Nurse!Reader X Loser!Konig?
The moment you missed the vein and hit the needle straight into his bone, Konig knew - he has to have you. Maybe the pain from having such expensive medicine be spilled in his insides so mindlessly was making him dizzy and distorted his thoughts and feelings. Maybe he was so sure your clumsiness is going to finally finish the job of his enemies and kill him that he wanted to fall in love one last time, but it doesn't really matter anymore. Konig, the rising socio-phobic(and-pathic) star of KorTac, is helplessly in love with you. Yes, this is a threat. How can he not love you? You're as pretty as the morning stars and just as clumsy as a wild cat that once slammed into his tent at a makeshift camp, leaving him with thrashed-out things and an empty stomach. You, however, leave him with an eagerly beating heart and desire to come to you, gently take your hands in his, and take your medical license away. Someone as pretty and as cute as you shouldn't have to work...and especially shouldn't work with highly important patients. Konig so helplessly in love, however, that he is holding your stolen panties in one hand, jerking himself off and imagining it's your soft folds wrapped around his leaking cock. His other hands goes to write the reports saying that your performance is amazing, one of the best nursing experiences he ever had, and that every soldier who had met you, immediately asked for you to be their personal nurse from now on. He lies, of course, but, unfortunately for his men, the colonel is willing to sacrifice medical performance if it means his loser brain could stare at your ass in that tight uniform the whole day. Well, at least you're cute enough to be moral support, and every time you would drop something important and sterile on the ground, injured people could stare at your hips as you bend over to pick this up. Even medics can't really be mad at you - it's like being mad at a kitten. You just don't know better. You just cute and clumsy and no one knows how the hell you went pass the selections. They do know, however, that you're colonel's favorite little plaything and that he specifically organizes your shifts so you'd have to shower alone at night. Alone, at night, with him watching over your wet body.
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Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee
I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.
~
When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.
Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.
It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.
Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.
But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.
Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.
And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.
Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.
He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."
You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."
That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.
Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.
Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."
Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.
But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.
You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."
"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."
But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"
Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.
Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.
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beenbaanbuun · 5 months
Note
hii bunny! 🤍🤍
i was wondering if you maybe could write something angsty with mingi? like he’s had a long day and snaps at you a little after seeing your clothes on the floor or something.. like it would never bother him on a normal day but it’s just been a long day for him
it’s not too harsh but it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him have that tone with you so obviously it’s a lot for you 🫣 it doesn’t take him long to realize and regret it but by the time he does you’re already outside on the verge of tears and getting some fresh air.. he basically panics and texts you and calls you 😭 there’s no answer for around 10 minutes and just as he’s about to go outside and look for you, not even bothering throwing an hoodie on, he opens the door and sees you standing there with a little bag with his favorite snacks that you bought for him and he immediately starts apologising
sorry if this is quite specific i just hope it helps a little with your ideas! if you want to change anything you can! you can add smut and make it angsty or you can make it sweet and soft.. maybe even both 🤷‍♀️
i feel like he’s so gentle and definitely would love his partner too much, and just the thought of that he’s upset them could kill him
i cried writing this so i hope you enjoy it 🫡
——————————————————————————
to say that mingi’s day was hard would be an understatement. he barely slept the previous night, the constant beeping of the fire alarm begging for new batteries that they didn’t yet have keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning. he thinks it was sheer exhaustion that sent him to sleep at just gone 4am, and he was equally exhausted when san woke him two hours later for practice. he had half a mind to tell his friend to fuck off and just go back to sleep, but then he heard the beep of the fire alarm and decided he had no chance. he was going to have to stay awake.
then came practice, which was never easy, but for some reason was so much worse today. it started with yunho, who was being so much stricter than usual, jaw clenching and eyes filling with fire if anyone even dared to get a single step wrong. with mingi’s tired brain, he wasn’t afraid to admit that most of those glares were aimed at him; intricate footwork is more difficult when you can hardly string two thoughts together, it seems. annoyance doesn’t help with that either, yet with every pointed look at yunho gets him, he feels his blood boiling more and more.
then you have the troublemakers who seemed to make it their sole purpose today to annoy every single other person in that room. san and wooyoung were naturally loud people, but today they seemed to have the dial turned up to twelve. of course, yeosang was dragged into it too, offering quiet, but not unheard, snarky comments to go along with whatever nonsense the other pair were babbling about. mingi wasn’t sure how much more of that high-pitched cackle he could stand before it made his achy head explode.
and last, but certainly not least, there was hongjoong, perhaps mingi’s biggest issue out of his members. he too seemed to be in a bad mood, but unlike mingi who had yet to retaliate to any of the shit show going on around him, hongjoong just couldn’t seem to shut his mouth. someone misstepped? he’d yell at them. someone misspoke? he’d yell at them. it was just a constant wall of sound coming from his leader and mingi wasn’t sure just how much more he could take until…
“everyone just go,” hongjoong groans, anger and frustration laced through his features. “it’s clear no one is taking it seriously today so just go!”
a miracle.
mingi wastes no time in grabbing his bag and running out of the practice room without even a glance back at his members. perhaps later he’ll text them and let them know where he is, but for now he just needs you. he needs your arms to wrap around him and keep him warm as he sleeps. he needs your voice to float around his brain as he drifts away. he needs you.
he’s thankful that you live close because before he knows it, he’s at your door, fishing your key from his pocket. he fiddles with it excitedly, scraping it against the door a few times by accident before finally slipping it into the keyhole. he twists it and pushes it open, expecting to find you buzzing around your apartment like a cute little bumble bee.
instead he’s met with silence and darkness, curtains still drawn and your lively little self nowhere to be seen. there’s pots in the sink, mess strewn across the floor and the trash bag from last night still propped up by the door. mingi lets out a long sigh.
he knows it’s wrong of him to feel annoyed by all of this, and normally he wouldn’t. it’s just after the day he’s had, all he wanted was to cuddle up to you in a nice tidy, stress-free apartment. now he has to take your load on his shoulders as well. he has to pick up your pieces whilst he’s still desperately trying to hold all of his together. but this is it; this is his last straw, and the irritation and frustration he’s been barely holding back all day suddenly bursts free of its dam. he cant stop himself as he kicks off his shoes, not caring where they go (it’s not like it’ll make any difference with the state your apartment in is anyway) and storms his way down the hallway to your bedroom.
your door is already open, and through it he can see you still in bed. you’re curled up under the quilt, just like he has wanted to be all day. just like he hasn’t been able to because he has been busy. for some reason it only fills him with more annoyance, and he steps over the threshold into your room and slams the door behind him.
he can see that the sound startles you, but he can’t find it in him to care. he just stares down at you, a mixture of anger and disappointment twisting his features as you groggily sit up to look at him. your eyes are red, as are your cheeks, but mingi just brushes it off. the painful pang in his chest upon seeing you like that is hardly enough to outweigh everything else he feels.
“really?” he bends down to pick up a t-shirt before holding it up to show you. you stare at it blankly, not sure what he’s trying to get at.
“what’s wrong, mingi?” your voice is strained as if you’d been crying recently. if mingi wasn’t so blinded by everything, perhaps he would’ve noticed how fragile you seem to be. perhaps he’d be able to take a step back and see that you need him to comfort you, not berate you. it’s a shame his head is too full of his own feelings to even consider yours.
“what’s wrong?” he scoffs, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “this! everything!” he gestures wildly around your room as if it explains anything. “i don’t need to deal with this shit right now, baby! i can’t!”
he watches as your brows furrow in confusion, hurt washing over your features. there’s something in his that tells him that it’s enough, that he’s said and done too much already, but there’s still more on the tip of his tongue and he needs to get it out of him before he bursts.
“i have enough on my plate without having to take care of you, alright?” his voice comes out harsher than he means it to, more of a shout than anything else, and by the way your expression tightens, he can tell he’s hurt you.
that’s when it all sinks in for him, when you hum, nodding your head slowly as his words echo around your brain. your eyes look down at your hands, thumbs picking at one another awkwardly. he’s said too much, gone too far, he can understand that now. like, really understand it. he should’ve stayed silent. ignored the shit spewed across the floor and crawled into your bed like he’d been wanting to do all day.
well shit, he thinks to himself, he never meant to hurt you. he doesn’t know what he wanted to do by telling you those things, but this wasn’t it.
“sorry,” is all you say when you toss the comforter off your legs. you’re dressed in the same clothes that he saw you in yesterday; had you slept in them? “i, uh… i’ll get out of your hair for a little while, mingi. it seems like you need a little alone time… you’re stressed.” and with that you stand up. mingi lets you, unsure of what to say to you as you grab your wallet from your nightstand and push past him. your hand feels like a hot iron pressed against his shoulder as you side-step him, and he almost, almost, goes to catch it.
before he can, you’re gone, and all he does is stand there as he listens to you open the door and walk out of the apartment.
your apartment.
he sits on your bed, twisting his hands into the comforter as he tries to ground himself. he’d kicked you out of your own apartment because of what? he doesn’t even know himself. he can’t wrap his head around the sudden burst of anger that washed over him like a tsunami. there was no escape from it until it passed, and now he’s left with with aftermath; the pain of upsetting you.
he knew from the moment he stepped in your apartment that you weren’t doing well. the drawn blinds, the pots left over from last night; he’s seen it time and time again and he’s never been upset at you for it. there’s been no anger or frustration there. no cross words or disappointment. nothing except sympathy and the desire to make everything okay for you again.
so, what? he got jealous because you were allowed to sit and wallow in your bad mood and he wasn’t? he got mad that coming to your apartment wasn’t the perfect whirlwind of softness and affection that he’d hoped for? god, he feels pathetic for how he treated you. even more so at the fact that he still feels so desperate for your comfort. he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but holy fuck does he need it.
he lets himself sit there in the pain for just a little while longer. perhaps if he lets himself hurt enough, he might deserve to have you back in his arms. if he repents, everything might be okay again. you’ll forgive him for what he said to you and hold him gently like he needs. you’ll whisper sweet words and kiss his head like he wants. you’ll be kind to him despite the fact that he hasn’t been kind to you. you’ll let him rest…
when he feels enough time has passed, he slips a hand into his pocket to grab his phone. there’s a message or two from his members asking where he went, but he ignores them. they can wait, you can’t. he locates you contact, pressing his thumb against the call button and letting it ring. a few seconds pass before he hears it loud and clear; your phone in the other room. he perks up a little—maybe you’re still here! his legs carry him faster than he can process. he swings the door open with little care about the way it slams against your dresser, and tumbles into the kitchen… where your phone is abandoned… with you nowhere to be seen.
mingi’s heart plummets even further. you’re gone, and now he won’t even have a way to know that you’re safe. it’s still daylight outside but what if you get lost? what if you stay out too long and it gets dark? what if you need him? he lets out a cry of stress, hands flying up to grip his bleached locks tightly in his hands. he feels fucking useless.
for just a moment he lets himself play the blame game with himself. it’s his fault. all of it is. anything could be happening to you and it would be his fault. he upset you and he let you leave! it’s all him, him, him… that makes it his to fix too.
he doesn’t let himself think as he walks over to the door. he doesn’t bother with a jacket, his brain telling him it would take too much time to slip it onto his shoulders. hell, he barely bothers with his shoes! just slips his feet in, not sparing a single thought to the way his feet are currently crushing the backs down. that’s the least of his worries, anyway. he can buy new shoes, he can’t replace you.
his hand reaches out to grab the door handle. it’s just centimetres away, almost close enough to grab it. his fingers begin to curl around the metal, but someone else gets there first. the handle dips down, and the door creeks as it opens just the tiniest bit. mingi gasps, moving at the speed of lighting to pull the door even wider. he knows exactly who’s on the other side, and his desperation to see you can’t be contained. he barely even looks at you before scooping you up into his arms.
“ouch, mingi,” you squirm as he holds you tighter than you think you’ve ever been held before. “you’re trapping my hair! let go, you giant oaf.”
he doesn’t, but he does loosen his grasp just a touch. not enough to let you fully breathe again, but just so you can save your hair from being pulled from your head. you’re grateful for that, at least, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to wriggle free. “let me go,” you reiterate, body still moving as he holds you against his broad chest, “i need to give you something but i can’t when you have me trapped!”
“you don’t need to give me anything,” he pouts as he presses a wet kiss against your hairline. it’s all very sweet, but you can’t help but feel like now is not the time.
“yes i do!” you twist your body in a way that makes it impossible for mingi to keep hold of you, gasping in a dramatic fashion as if you’d been starved of oxygen completely. mingi can’t help but smile at your performance, even if his arms do feel a little too empty now you’re not in them. you are absolutely adorable, after all. “i need to give you this because it’ll melt otherwise.”
that’s when he notices the clear plastic bag in your hand. if he looks carefully, he can just about make out the pint of hazelnut ice cream and the bag of shrimp chips; his favourites. confused, he brings his gaze back up to your face, noticing the shy smile that rests on your lips as you raise the bag up for him to take. “for me?” he asks. you only give him a quick nod in response. “but… why?”
when he doesn’t take the bag, you roll your eyes and stomp past him to the kitchen. it hits the counter with a thud, and mingi flinches. are you angry with him? of course, you have every right to be but if he’s being honest, he’s rather that you weren’t. he really needs you right now. he slinks up behind you, watching as you busy yourself with taking the snacks out of the bag. his arms ache with the desire to be wrapped tightly around your waist, but he somehow manages to hold himself back.
“because you’re obviously not doing good,” you say as you yank the cutlery drawer open to grab two spoons. it doesn’t go unnoticed when you pull out the flat one with the thin handle alongside the deep one with the heavy handle; his and your favourite spoons, respectively. his chest aches with love as you, actually rather violently stab the container with both of them. he always has loved your silly little antics.
“yeah, well you’re not doing good either,” he tries to argue, but you shut him up with a glare.
“me not doing well doesn’t mean i can’t try to help you when you’re not doing well,” you shrug as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “my feelings don’t negate your feelings and i love you, so i want to try and help you.” whether it’s a loaded statement or not, mingi can’t help but understand the irony. either you’re trying to teach him a lesson or the universe is. judging by the look in your eyes, he thinks it’s safe to assume that it’s you.
“i get it,” he nods, “i’m sorry for being a dick, you don’t deserve that.”
“i don’t deserve it, but i do understand it and i’m not going to torture you for it when it’s obvious you’ve been torturing yourself,” you point a finger up to his messed up hair, “what i am going to do is get in bed with you and eat a shit ton of ice cream, capeesh?”
“yeah, baby,” he smiles, “capeesh…”
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aphroditelovesu · 8 months
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Yandere Hannibal Lecter Headcanons (General)
''Nothing here is vegetarian." — Hannibal Lecter.
❝ 🍽 — lady l: I think it's amazing that my hcs become more and more extensive lol, but you like it, don't you? Hannibal is my newest fixation and I loved writing for him, due to his personality. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! It's four in the morning here 🤎🤍.
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, cannibalism and murder.
❝🍽pairing: yandere!hannibal lecter x gender neutral!reader.
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Hannibal Lecter is decorous and very polite and he really appreciates that, politeness. He values ​​and is easily offended by people who are rude or who do not have the correct manners, especially at the table. In addition to being a perfectionist analyzer.
He believes that the way people behave at the table directly reflects their education and social status. Hannibal is meticulous in choosing ingredients, preparing meals and presenting dishes. The problem is that his food tends to be human flesh, but Hannibal doesn't consider himself a cannibal, since the victims he chooses are seen as pigs to him.
Hannibal is known for his distinct personality and his appreciation for elegance and refined etiquette. His impeccable education, combined with his exquisite taste, creates an intriguing and contradictory image, due to his serial killer side. He stands out not only for his intellectual abilities and his ability to appreciate high culture but also for his meticulous and artistic approach to his darker pursuits.
You must have his politeness and good manners, that's the least he requires, Hannibal doesn't like rude people and although he won't kill you, he would have to teach you to have good manners. He will be happy to do so, however.
When interacting socially, Hannibal is observant and analytical, evaluating people based on their behavior at the table and in everyday situations. His aversion to rude people puts him in a unique position where he feels compelled to correct these "lapses" in etiquette. The way he corrects these mistakes varies from murder to a class, in this case, that class would be just for you.
You would have to be someone who achieves these Hannibal decorums, or comes close at least, for him to become obsessed with you. He likes polite people and will be happy if you are one of them, but if you are not or don't know the correct manners very well, don't worry, he will help you.
Hannibal is a psychiatrist and is very well aware that his thoughts of you are not ''normal'' or healthy, but he doesn't care. He knows it's morally wrong to do what he does and does it anyway, so what are some dark thoughts about you? But these thoughts quickly become actions he committed in your name.
He will take notes about you and create your psychiatric profile and if there is something ''wrong'', he will offer therapy for you, that is if you were not already his patient. Always very observant and attentive, he will be keeping all the necessary information about you, so that he can use it to catch you later.
If you have problems with your family or friends, Hannibal will take care of it. He doesn't like the idea of ​​someone wanting to hurt you, whether emotionally or physically, and most likely he will kill them one by one and serve them to you. Of course, without your knowledge. He knows you're not ready to know that yet.
Hannibal will be very picky about your food, just as he is about his. If you eat poorly or incorrectly, he will correct it. He enjoys cooking for you and will be adamant about doing so, serving refined recipes and elaborate dishes using fresh ingredients. Hannibal is a bit too controlling.
He is not possessive, but rather obsessive. Hannibal doesn't like it when you get too close to other people, but he will be more uncomfortable if it's someone he has apathy or something against. But he will sort it out. He feels jealous, but he deals with it in his own way, releasing that feeling on other things... Or people.
Hannibal is quite protective of you and will be adamant about keeping you safe. He may try to convince you to live with him or will make regular visits to your home, work or where you study. He will always be around when he gets the chance, just to look out for you.
He will try not to completely succumb to his desires, as Hannibal doesn't like being controlled, and allowing you to have so much power over him makes him more than uncomfortable. At least until he is sure that you will let yourself be completely dominated by him, only then will he feel more comfortable in making his feelings for you clear.
Hannibal Lecter is very intelligent and knows very well how to get rid of evidence that could incriminate him. Besides being a psychopath who doesn't feel remorse or empathy for others, he becomes softer when he's with you. Although his feelings aren't clear or fully understood, he knows he cares about you, enough that he wants you to be his. And you'll be his.
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valewosomtb · 6 months
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not a burden|| a. Putellas × platonic!reader
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warnings: literally none
a/n: Lowkey wrote this based on some personal experience and just had to get it out off my system, love the fear of missing out🤪
You always felt like a second choice. Like you were always there just when some of your so-called friends didn't have anyone else to hang out with. But that is also what your love life, or whatever you should call it since there's not even L from your love life in existence, looked like.
When you find someone you like or you're just attracted to, and you try to pursue it to see where the things go, you somehow end up being heartbroken because that person has someone else or they just haven't gotten over their ex OR you're just a distraction. In the most of the cases, you were just a distraction.
It happened too many times you thought it was a reason you were scared of commitment. That was also a reason why you were scared of opening up to people when you just KNOW they're gonna use it against you or just use you.
Another problem was, that you were a people pleaser. You'd always put someone else's happiness before yours. Even if it killed you. As long as you got to please someone.
Everyone on the team knew your fun, smiley, chaotic, spontaneous side. Almost no one knew the real you. You were always the one to make everyone laugh with your incredibly bad jokes or dumb ideas you always came up with. Even after a bad game, you were the one who would try to cheer everyone up and motivate them.
You were closest to Alexia and Keira. Keira helped you when you signed with Barça and Alexia took you under her wing when she saw how adorable you were the first time when you met her and were a big stuttering mess since she was your idol for a long time.
From time to time, you get into your head. There are some periods when you do nothing but overthink everything. From your performances on training or in the game, to just your relationships with everyone around you.
Everyone told you that you were a very likable person and that there can't be many people who don't like you. You strongly disagreed with that statement.
Especially, in this period when you can't help but think about your relationships in the team.
It was another day, another training, you woke up early in the morning like every other morning, had a little breakfast, and went for a 3-mile run. You just loved running it made your mind clean and easy, and your thoughts stopped running as your legs started. This was the only time you felt happy with yourself.
After you finished, your legs burned but you couldn't care less. You got a quick shower and then got ready for the main training of the day. As you were driving to the stadium the overthinking got louder. All you could think about was do you actually belonged there and do others wanted you there.
You were the first one there, as usual, you were thankful for that. You were walking slowly towards the locker room, when you got there you just sat there and stared at the wall across from you. Just sitting there, overthinking, you were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't even realize that the locker room was already full.
You quickly wiped the tear from your cheek and continued to get ready as everyone else. As you were getting ready to go out on the field, you realized that no one greeted you, like you weren't even there. That just confirmed your overthinking… no one cared about you.
What you didn't think about was that your cubby was far from others and that everyone else greeted you, you just didn't hear because you were spaced out.
Another thing that confirmed your overthinking was when you heard everyone else talking about some kind of team building that supposedly happened yesterday. This was the first time you heard something about that. Did they forget to invite you?
„I can't believe you did that! You and Mapi need to stop challenging each other.“ You heard Lucy say. The fear of missing out was triggering slowly.
„You're right about that, I think it's time for us to stop with that bullshit, “ Patri said with a laugh following, „What I'm more surprised about was that Alexia let us do it at her place!“
Alexia's place? Alexia hosted the team building night. And she forgot to invite you? Or she just didn't want you there and that's why she didn't invite you?
Your head started to spin. You quickly rushed to the bathroom, sat down on a toilet, and tried to calm down. It must've been a misunderstanding of some kind. Right?
You tried to convince yourself. You haven't heard from Alexia in a while, since she was still out because of the small injury. Maybe she got bored of you, she didn't want some stupid 20-year-old bothering her all the fucking time. Your head was just getting worse.
When you managed to calm down, you walked back to the locker room you saw that you were the last one there.
After a long day you had, you finally arrived home, you got into your apartment, locked your doors, and just left your training bag on the floor next to the door. You were too emotionally drained to go shower and too tired to go to the bedroom you found your couch and just laid down and just….stared at the ceiling.
At some point in the day, you fell asleep. You woke up the next day, and you were still too tired to move, you just sent a text to Jona that you weren't feeling well and that you wouldn't be attending training today. But you also realized that you didn't get any messages from anyone, literally nobody texted you. No one needed you.
You threw the phone away and continued with what you know best. Overthinking.
As you were just laying there, silent crying, the tears were just flowing out of your eyes, and you realized something.
YOU were the one who always checked up on others when they were missing from training. YOU were always the first one to text someone when you were planning something. YOU were always the one to make sure everyone got home safe after a night out.
That's right there.
That right there was what you kids these days call, your last straw. Your thirteenth reason.
At the Barça's training grounds, Alexia finally got back to train with the team, and she was really happy and excited about it. She greeted everyone on the way to the locked room. When she walked into the locker room, everyone cheered, like the queen just walked in…which she is.
The first question she asked was „Where's y/n?“ that made everyone look around and see that you indeed weren't there.
„Oh, shit, I knew that something was missing here, “Lucy said. After that everyone got on the field and Jona said that you weren't feeling well. Everyone just nodded with understanding but Alexia didn't buy it. Something wasn't right. You never miss training, even when you don't feel good.
At your apartment, you made progress... you went from the couch to the floor, since you always loved laying or sitting on the floor because it was comfortable. Still thinking how you're worthless and that no one wants you to be here. You finally took your phone and scrolled through social media, where were all the photos and videos posted from the team hangout. You saw how much fun they had... without you.
They were better off…without you.
You were a burden.
You saw the recent stories that everyone posted. Even Alexia. But still not one message.
The training finished and Alexia drove straight to your apartment. Fortunately, it wasn't far from the training grounds or her apartment, so she arrived pretty fast.
She walked up to the door and knocked. No answer. That made her knock a little louder.
„Y/n, please open up I know you can hear me.“ Alexia begged.
The knocking and the yelling made you snap out of it. You stood up and slowly walked to the door. You opened them but not fully.
„What are you doing here, Alexia?“ you asked tiredly. You didn't know how to feel about this visit.
„Um, are you gonna let me in or will I have to let myself in?“ she asked with a raised eyebrow.
You just sighed and moved to open the doors fully and let her in. When she walked in, she took a look around your place and then turned back to you and actually at your appearance.
„Are you okay? Are you sick? What's the matter?“ she asked with all seriousness. Every person who looks into her eyes can see that she cares, but not your eyes or your head.
„Why do you care?“ you said with a scoff and walked towards the living room.
That comment made Alexia confused. Why wouldn't she care?
„Of course, I care. You never miss a training even when you're not feeling well, you would attend a training. Even though I sometimes disagree with that you're stubborn“
„Sure you do.“
„Y/n, what is this about? Why are you acting like this?“
„ACTING LIKE WHAT, ALEXIA? Tell me, acting like fucking what?!“ you threw it at her. It took her by surprise, she didn't expect this from you.
„Don't yell at me! I'm your captain, and I ne- „
Of course, Alexia fucking Putellas!! Captain of FC Barcelona. Only cares about her team and the reputation of her team and that HER team makes HER look good in front of everyone else. She's always „busy“ with, so-called captain duties, that she can't even text me, or answer her phone when I call her. ESPECIALLY WHEN I NEED HER THE MOST!!“ you were just spitting everything out. It made you feel good. You couldn't stop, for once you made yourself feel better.
„ I'm so fucking tired Alexia…Why am I such a burden to you? Do you not like me or something? What did I do to you that made you hate me so fucking much? If I bother you so much, you should just tell me. Also, the whole fucking team hates me. I thought that for once I could say that I belonged somewhere, but no. I'm always the second choice or the third most of the time the last choice. No one wants me in this team…I'm a terrible player, I'll never be like you or Mariona or Caro.“ You broke totally. You started to sob. Alexia couldn't watch you like this, she wanted to help you and the first thing she thought of was to pull you in the biggest hug.
When you felt her arms around you, you broke down completely. She held you for a good while, her shirt stained from your tears, she couldn't care less.
You finally stopped shaking and calmed down. When you you were ready, Alexia pulled away but not totally. She put her hands on your shoulders and made you look at her, so you hear her out.
„First of all, I want to apologize for not checking up on you more often, especially now since I understand you're having a hard time. I would also like to apologize for not answering your calls but I have really been busy and I was planning on calling you back I just forgot. Second of all, if I ever hear you talk like that about yourself I'll personally kick your ass,“ as she was telling you this, you finally managed to look at her. You saw her eyes a little glassed because of her tears.
„I see you as my little sister, you're not a burden, y/n. And I want you to remember that. I don't know what made you think that but I'm sorry if I made you feel like that. And also if you want I can talk to the team about that but I can tell you for sure that everyone adores you.“ You listened to her and tried to trust the words that she was saying but your head was a little louder.
„ And I also wanted to say, you'll never be like Mariona, Caro, or me. You'll be way better than us combined, especially if you continue to work as hard as you do now. I idolize your hard-working habits.“ She finished her speech. And you believed her. For once, you think you have someone who will hear you out when you have this kind of episode.
„Do you mean that?“ you asked her hesitantly.
„Yes, I do. And when next time you feel like this, I want you to come to me. Even if I'm busy, I'll make time for you.“ She said and gave you a small smile.
You smiled back at her and pulled her in a hug. You needed one after a few very emotional days.
„Now, will you tell me what made you feel this way?“ she said while pulling away.
You rubbed your neck nervously while trying to form a normal sentence.
„Well, um, I sometimes have these episodes when I get really into my head and just think little of myself. Also, some events from my past just encourage those episodes to come out. And also when I saw some pictures online from the other day from your place…it just made it worse“ you told her.
„Okay, when another episode of this is about to come out, let me know. And what do you mean the picture from my place?“
„Well I heard that there was some kind of a team hangout at your place and I wasn't invited and my fear of missing out was getting the best of me…it made my episode worse“
„Ooh that hangout out“Alexia chuckled after that „It wasn't a real hang out, it was kinda spontaneous because my sister got engaged and she's friends with most of my teammates so we just celebrated at my place.“
You face palmed yourself. Alexia just laughed at you. You couldn't believe yourself right now.
„ It's alright, hermanita. Don't be so hard on yourself“ Alexia tried to comfort you.
„Thank you, Ale. So much, and I'm sorry for bothering you with my shit..again“
„Don't have to thank me, just score my goals for my team so it makes me look good as captain in front of everyone“ she teased you.
„oh god, I don't know how that came out of my mouth, I'm so sorry“ you apologized.
Alexia just laughed at your, „You don't have to say sorry for everything, it's okay you were emotional and you needed to take it out on someone“
You were thankful that Alexia was this understanding. Younger you wouldn't believe you if you told her that you're crying in front of Alexia Putellas and she's comforting you.
„If you don't mind me asking. What exactly happened in the past that made it so bad?“ she asked with a curious look
„If I start now I won't stop until tomorrow. It's a long story“
„Oh, would you look at that I'm free today. So start from the beginning.“
And so you did. You told her everything, from A to Z. You finally opened up to someone after a long time. And it felt good. It made it easier because Alexia was call, patient, and understanding. After that you were more open with everyone and communicated way more than before.
But if it weren't for Alexia, you'd probably be still lying on that floor and staring at the ceiling.
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rose-pearls · 7 months
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hi idk if your still doing requests but can I request ( this is super angsty btw!) a Clarisse fanfic where the reader is the daughter of Poseidon and there like absolutely in love with eachother like soulmates but then the reader dies during the war and clarisse can’t handle it and dies too like Romeo and Juliet
Hi! Thank you so much for your request!! Hopefully you like it :)) My requests are also still open for every fandom I write for!
Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989
Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303
Clarisse La Rue Taglist: @peanutbelley, @abbersreads
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Clarisse loved you and you loved her, it had always been as simple as that. It was a known fact around camp, that the only person that could calm Clarisse down or make her smile brighter than the sun was you, the daughter of Poseidon.
Being demigods was a challenge in itself, but when the war started it became even trickier, filled with losses. By the second week of the war there were more flowers surrounding camp half-blood then students in it, to honor the lost ones. Because even if they were forgettable in the eyes of the Gods, they weren’t in the eyes of their fellow half-bloods. 
It had been tough for Clarisse and you, juggling the war, your friends, your siblings and yourselves but you had gotten through it. Clarisse had been your rock during everything, and you couldn’t imagine a world without her, it would be like everything was wrong. 
“We need to be careful,” Clarisse whispers in the early sunshine of the morning, running her fingers along your skin.
“We will, it will all be alright Clar,” you tell her, hoping to reassure the Ares girl, she had lost one of her half-siblings the day before and it had taken a toll on her. 
“Let’s hope our fathers will protect us,” she whispers, like a child scared of saying something, as if saying it out loud would jinx it. 
“They will, just like the Gods will try to help us if they can,” you whisper back, even if deep down you know that it isn’t true, that the Gods will turn a blind eye on everything that happened and on every child that lost their lives in their feud.
You don’t know how long the both of you stay there, lying in each other’s arms and whispering sweet nothings but you enjoy it, basking in the love that surrounds you.
“I’m sorry to interrupt but we need to go,” you suddenly hear Percy say, and you turn around to find your little brother looking at you with a sad smile. He looked so much older already then when you first met him two years ago, a part of you feels sad that he already had to go through so much at a young age. But he had his mother, Sally Jackson, who had seen you as her daughter from the moment she met you. 
“We’ll be there in five minutes,” Clarisse tells him, and he nods in agreement before softly closing the door and letting you change.
You do your usual routine, helping each other getting ready while exchanging kisses through it all and before you know it you need to leave to help the others.
The battlefield is a mess, people screaming left and right, monsters running after children who are far too young to be here. You don’t have time to take out your sword before Clarisse kisses you softly on the mouth.
“I’ll see you later?”, she whispers, and you nod in agreement, a loving smile on your lips.
“See you later,” you tell her before kissing her back and whispering a soft I love you. 
You see Percy in the distance but before you are able to go towards him a minotaur steps into your vision and you get ready to kill some more monsters, hoping desperately that these will be your last ones. It’s a long time before you get a minute to breathe, trying to ignore the ringing in your ears and looking around for someone you know. 
Percy looks tired, and there is a panicked look as he helps Annabeth to a safe place, the girl seemed to have gotten her leg cut. You start walking away, hoping that maybe Clarisse could be somewhere close but before you can turn around you see a Chimera starting to walk towards the pair, who still looked too busy with each other to notice anything else. 
You don’t think about it, you just start to run towards them, hoping desperately that you will get there in time and just as the Chimera gets ready to open her mouth to breath out fire you slice your sword into her leg, getting her attention towards you.
It wails in pain before turning her eyes towards you with a sick determination, you try to get your breathing right, but you hear Percy scream your name.
“Get Annabeth to safety, I’ll be alright!”, you tell him, and the boy looks unsure for a moment before giving into your pleading eyes and helping Annabeth to get to the other side of the road.
The Chimera doesn’t give you any time to think your decision through before it charges towards you. You manage to escape it a few times, burning a car or two and bruising your skin as you roll away from her attacks. But as you try to get another hit at her she hits you with her paw, making you land ten feet away, your back hitting an abandoned car. 
You try to breathe again, your back hurting from the hit but just as you try to reach for your sword a couple of feet away the Chimera is already in front of you. You try to move away, willing your body to move but you can’t move anymore and the only thing you can do is pray to your father. 
But even as fire hydrants explode around you, trying to scare off the creature, her paw lifts up and slashes right through your stomach making you scream in pain for the first time in your life. You wonder for a moment if this is it, before the Chimera disappears in front of your eyes, a heaving Percy looking at you with wide eyes. 
“Percy,” you whisper and your brother rushes to your side, blue eyes flickering between your wound and your face.
“We need to find you water, we need to heal you,” he whispers as he starts looking around the streets like a madman and as he tries to get up to go and find some sort of water you take his hand to stop him.
“It won’t help,” you tell him, but Percy shakes his head, always the hero, trying to work things out.
“We can find something, alright, we need to!”, he says, his voice wavering over the words and his blue eyes gets darker with the tears that are welling up.
“Percy, it’s okay,” you tell him, just like when he used to apologize for climbing into your bed after a nightmare. A tear rolls down his cheek and you take his hand in yours, only managing it after the second try.
“What about Clarisse? What about everything we had planned this summer?”, Percy says, and you feel pained at the sight of his tears, his pain. He had been through too much and you never wanted to be another pain that he had to bear, another loss.
“I’ll be there, somehow, with you. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” you tell him, and a sob leaves his lips, breaking your heart.
“How?”, he whispers as he holds onto your hand for dear life.
“Through the rain pouring down on New York, through the countless rivers and oceans surrounding you, through the blue food that you will see. I’m not leaving you Percy, I’ll always be there somewhere, cheering you on,” tears are streaming down your face, but you still try to reassure your brother.
“I love you,” he says and your heart breaks as you realize that this really is the last time you will hear that from him.
“I love you too little brother,” you tell him with a soft smile, squeezing his hand three time.
Before you can say anything else you hear your name being screamed, Clarisse. 
“What happened?”, she asks as she arrives, her hair all over the place after having fought some monsters.
“A Chimera,” Percy says, and she looks determined, but her hands are shaking, telling you that she is scared.
“Well, we can find some water, right? Fix you up,” she says, looking all over the place as if she is hoping that an ocean of water will appear, but you shake your head slowly.
“It’s too late,” you whisper and for a moment she says nothing, simply looking into your eyes.
“No, no, no, no, you promised me you would be alright, that you would be safe,” she says, her voice filled with desperation as she looks over you and you smile sadly.
“I’m sorry, I tried to beat it, but I couldn’t,” you whisper, and she shakes her head again, tears forming into her brown eyes.
“Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault,” she says, and you smile softly before taking her hand into your other one.
“It’s going to be okay,” you tell her, but she shakes her head, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“It won’t, I can’t live without you,” she whispers, and you feel tears falling down your cheeks at her words.
“I love you so much,” you whisper, and she closes her eyes, looking pained at the words.
“I love you too princess, never forget that” she tells you and you smile at the words.
“Never, I’ll always remember,” you whisper, and she nods quickly.
“Good, now focus on Percy and I,” you nearly tell her that she has never called your brother Percy but you don’t, you can’t as you start seeing dark spots before your eyes.
“I think it’s time,” you tell them, and you just feel them squeeze your hand, Percy mumbling words you can’t hear but a kiss on your forehead makes you smile, you always used to do it to him.
“Clarisse?”, you whisper, and the girl kisses your forehead too, staining your forehead with her tears. 
“I’m right here princess,” you hear her say, her voice breaking over the words.
“I’m scared,” you whisper, and you hear a sob leaving Percy’s mouth, and a couple of tears fall down your forehead.
“It will all be alright, I’ll be right by your side,” she tells you and you let out a sigh at her words.
You want to say something else, but the darkness takes over, taking you with her as you hear comforting words being whispered, hands holding yours. 
--
Clarisse can’t stop crying as she feels her girlfriend’s pulse die down against her hand, the hand that was holding on to her so tightly is now laying limp into hers. Percy is sobbing into his hands, cursing his father through the sobs and Clarisse wants to do the same but the only thing she can do is sob louder.
She didn’t know how she was going to survive without you, she just couldn’t imagine a life without you. You had been her everything for the past five years and all of the sudden she was supposed to live without you, she couldn’t. Deep down she knew that she would never be able to live a life without you.
As more tears roll down her cheeks, she remembers the small drink that had been given to them before the war, making sure that if someone was to be captured, they could drink it and die to avoid getting tortured.
She takes it, her hands shaking as she opens it and for a moment, she sees Percy looking at her, a moment of realization at the sight of the bottle.
“Clarisse,” he whispers, he looks unsure, sad even as he understands what she wants to do but she shakes her head. 
“I can’t live without her; it wouldn’t be living. You know what I mean,” she says, and he nods slowly, she knows he understands what she means, he would do the same thing if he lost Annabeth. 
“Take care of her?”, he whispers, a stray tear falling down his cheek and she nods.
“I will,” she whispers before bringing the bottle to her lips and drinks it in one go.
She looks at you as the liquid goes down her throat and for a moment, she thinks that it won’t work and that she will have to live without you, but her eyes start to flutter shut and. Before she knows it, she is falling against you, her head on your stomach as her last breath leaves her lips. 
Rain starts pouring down on him and he knows it’s his father, trying to console him and the sadness that comes with losing a child. He stays there until Annabeth forces him to leave, trying to hold back her own tears as she watches the couple lying against each other. The monsters are gone in an instance, as if seeing two girls giving up their lives for each other was enough for the Gods to decide the war could finally be over.
He never forgets his sister, seeing her in the waterlilies blooming along the water on her birthdays, in the playlist she always used to blast in the Poseidon Cabin, in his father’s eyes. But the moment he sees her, and Clarisse again is at the last scene of Romeo and Juliet at the theater, seeing Romeo sacrifice himself to be with Juliet. The two of you flashes before his eyes as Annabeth holds his hand with a tight grip even as everyone leaves the theater, and they stay watching the closed curtain. As if it was symbolizing the end of your life too.
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rcksmith · 2 years
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Untouchable - Five Hargreeves
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You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.
Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.
Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”
Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.
Warnings:  A LOT OF ANGST, swearing,  mention of death, blood,  fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end,  fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.
Word count: 15k.
A/N: Spoiler from season 3.
OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected. 
Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.
We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️
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Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.
Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities.   A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.
His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.
His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However,  Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.
Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.
It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.
Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it,  much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.
So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.
So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.
It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.
It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.
But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.
On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.
Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.
Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.
An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.
Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.
What hell is going on?
It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.
In 1750.
His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.
The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.
Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.
Nothing. As always.
“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”
Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.
Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.
This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.
The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.
In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the  way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.
It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.
What was happening?
The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.
Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.
His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation  was like he was already late.
The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.
He should have done it. But he didn't.
Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.
With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.
If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.
He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.
His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.
It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.
Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.
It was a female voice. Now he could tell.
Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.
Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts,  he wasn't oscillated  by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.
Until now.
Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.
Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.
As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.
You.
Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.
Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.
His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.
There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.
In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.
Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.
There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.
There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.
He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that  lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.
You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.
Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.
You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.
The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.
That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.
There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.
Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.
You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore. 
You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.
In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.
That was until he showed up.
You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.
One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.
Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.
“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.
He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.
The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.
The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.
“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.
Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.
Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.
Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.
Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.
It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.
Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…
“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”
Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.
This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.
A name…
Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.
He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.
His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.
Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.
His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."
A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.
Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.
You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.
The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.
 ‘One second can change many things...’
Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.
‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’
Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.
You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.
‘you can fall in love.’
With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.
An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.
Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.
In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.
"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.
"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.
The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.
There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.
Not after this man.
“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."
Yes, with his mother and Allison.
But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.
"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.
God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.
Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.
You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.
Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.
But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.
But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.
He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.
But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.
He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach.  He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.
Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.
He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.
When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.
What was foolish.
The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.
No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.
A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.
Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.
Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.
At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.
However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.
Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.
In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’
Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.
And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.
You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.
No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.
-----------
Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.
But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.
His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.
He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.
Until now.
Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.
And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.
“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.
Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.
“A death.”
“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.
The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.
“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines,  but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"
Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.
He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"
She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.
Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.
But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.
"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.
Then everything stopped.
The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.
She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”
There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.
What the fucking hell.
“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”
But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.
Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.
She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.
Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.
And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.
“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.
Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.
Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word. 
For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.
“Five...you know her need to die...”
"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”
Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.
“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying!  You won't touch her until the day I'm dead!  And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."
You were untouchable.
All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people. 
It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead. 
Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.
Something he would never let happen.
If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.
In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.
It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.
His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.
Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.
But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you. 
And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.
Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.
Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.
The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff  Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.
A place where the worst had happened to you.
Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.
Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.
The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.
It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.
When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.
It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.
After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.
Not even Five.
And so it was done.
-----------
Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.
In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.
But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.
Always you.
His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.
Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.
When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.
It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.
You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.
But, it was worth it.
All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.
Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.
Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.
Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.
Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.
And it would be for the rest of his life.
-----------
All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.
Everyone thought so, actually.
The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.
Until that fateful moment.
Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.
As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.
Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.
Five.
Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.
His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.
Was like resurrect.
He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.
Nothing.
“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.
He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.
His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.
But nobody noticed what he saw.
While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.
You.
You.
Fucking hell...you.
There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.
Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.
You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.
An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.
As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.
“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.
You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.
With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.
However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.
“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”
“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”
Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.
Holy shit.
Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.
But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.
You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.
He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.
He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.
For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.
That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.
You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.
But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.
It don’t make sense.
As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.
But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.
But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.
See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.
The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.
Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.
But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”
Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.
So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.
The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.
You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.
The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.
“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”
But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.
Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.
The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.
Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.
And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.
But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.
Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.
Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on  The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.
Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.
As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.
“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”
His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.
"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”
The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;
"Never."
The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.
Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.
He didn't think twice before running to the side,  hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.
You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.
-----------
"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.
The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.
Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.
A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.
On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.
The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.
"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.
"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.
The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.
It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…
The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.
Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.
He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.
The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.
You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.
When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.
Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.
There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.
That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.
“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.
"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.
“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.
But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"
“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”
Five…Five
His name was Five.
Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.
“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.
You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.
“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.
“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”
But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through  your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.
You needed to see him.
Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.
-----------
"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.
And he didn't find any answers.
To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.
The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.
Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.
“What is the enemy doing here?!"
Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.
You.
Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.
But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.
“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"
“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”
"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison
"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.
Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.
"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.
“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”
A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.
-----------
Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.
But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.
What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.
After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.
“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”
Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.
Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.
So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.
If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.
And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”
But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.
Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.
"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.
You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.
“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling  your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”
A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.
Oh lord, please he do that.
Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.
“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”
Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.
If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.
"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."
You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.
“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.
Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.
Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.
He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.
“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.
That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.
“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the  hotel.
But you would rather die than stop.
His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.
“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you  "That's your cervix."
Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.
This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.
His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.
"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.
“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”
If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.
The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.
You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out  a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."
His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.
“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”
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Text
Taste of his own medicine (Adam x Lucifer’s wife! Reader)
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Y’all really love Adam huh? Well, he’s growing on me aswell…
I can 100% see myself making this into a mini series with a few more parts were they actually fall in love, so, if y’all want that let me know because I’ll write it
Look I write Adam two ways, a dickhead prick or a man who’s still that but needs a hug (and imma give it to him.)
How’s y/n gonna get out of these the next morning? Who fucking knows :)
Word count: 3357
Warnings: smut, p n v sex, cheating, guilt from cheating, rough sex, demon Adam, Lucifer not being over Lilith, Adam straight up using Y/N for revenge, manipulation, dry humping/ grinding , misogyny, filming of sex, chocking (he just grabs the reader throat for a moment not really choking but still.), breeding kink, Adam bring Adam
⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧
No ones POV:
Y/N and Lucifer were… “happily” married. Y/N wasn’t happy as she was, after many years of being together, she was still second place to his ex wife Lilith, even with her leaving him. So because of this the two were nearly always fighting over it, so due to this she spent a lot of time at the newly rebuilt Hazbin hotel.
That’s were she met Adam, first man and a fall angel from the last extermination that attempted to kill both Charlie and Lucifer, it was an interesting sight to see the once cocky angel that wore pearly white and pure gold now dawning crimson red and black, but, this still cocky personality. Y/N didn’t truly care and didn’t want to give him the time of day like any of the other patrons of the hotel, until Charlie spoke to her.
“You want me to what?” Y/N asked dumb founded my what she just said. “Be his friend!” She said clearly nervous but trying to put on her happy face, sweat dripping from her brow. “Absolutely not.” Y/N was quick to say in response only for Charlie to grab her shoulders, “oh come on please!,” she said practically begging, wide, “no one is giving him a fair shot at redemption and that starts with forgiveness! I know he did bad things but he can change and that starts with a friend… pretty please Y/N.” She finally finished saying her puppy dog eyes on, pleading. Y/N looked at her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh.
“…fine I’ll do it”
And with that a “friendship” grew, Y/N was the first to forgive Adam for his actions and treat him like a person, Which Adam happily accepted. During any part of exercises that involve two people it was Always Y/N and Adam in a pair. After many of these Y/M actually started to enjoy his company, Adam also seen to enjoy hers…but that only what it seemed
Adams true intentions with Y/N was to get revenge, revenge on Lucifer for stealing his first two wives, and Y/N was the key to that revenge…he just needed a way in. Adam was happy to accept her invitation of friendship, it was the perfect way to find the weak point to her, worm his way in. He’d be lying if he didn’t thing Y/N was down right gorgeous. Adam truly thought she had a perfect body and face with E/C eyes that could light up a room and a not to bad personality, he needed to find a way in and one night he found it…
Adam came down the large stairs of the hotel were the main entrance, parlor and entrance to the kitchen sat to get a drink. It was nearly 3 AM and the whole hotel stood still and silent, but something was off, he looked over to see the fire place still burning and seeing Y/N sitting on one of the sofas with her face in her hands. Adam confused, why were they here this late? He walked over to the other end of the couch from where Y/N sat, he could hear soft sobbing from her. This was the perfect opportunity…
“Hey are you good babes?” He asked her leaning on the sofa. Y/N jumped from my voice clearly not expecting someone, their head turn to Adam’s black and reddish eyes. Y/N once E/C eyes were stained red with wet tear in them and staining her cheeks. “Hey what’s up?” He as sitting on the sofa a little away from her, Y/N looked at him quietly for a moment as they wiped her tears, “it’s nothing Adam..” she said softly to him. Adam rolled his eyes softly “I’m not fucking dumb,” he started to say as you he moved a little closer. “ your crying in the middle of the night and your at the hotel this later, you never are, now what’s up.” Y/N looked a little surprised before sighing at sitting up straight to compose herself. “It’s just…” they paused for a moment depending on if she should continue “Mr and Lucifer got into another fight..” she said as she fought off a few tears.
Adam looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “about what?” He asked, actually curious. Y/N laughed softly before turning to face him “your ex..” she said jokingly, poking up at why she’d upset. Adam smiled and rolled his eyes going along with the joke “oh yeah? Which one? Ex wife #1 or ex wife #2?” He asked letting out a low laugh. “The first one..” Y/N said seeming to be safe again, dragged back to reality. Adam turned to face her body more “ok tell me what happened..” Y/N looked at him pretty much deflected, “You wouldn’t get it..” she said softly. Adam let out a laugh, “I wouldn’t get it, me?” He asked as he laughed out. “You forget my ex wife Lilith cheated on my with your now husband, so I think I can understand.” He said as he laughed which did make Y/N smile and think, maybe she wasn’t alone..
“Well..” she started before her eyes moved to the fire a few feet away. “Lucifer is still In love with Lilith even though were married..he still wears the wedding band from their marriage too…” Y/N said defeated by the whole situation. Y/N “so I came here to get away from him for the night, I just can’t be around him right now..” Y/N said wiping away her stray tears. Adam looked at her, he decided to shoot his shot.
“You know you don’t deserve that right?” He said asking genuinely, scooting over to him.. “of course I do,” Y/N said sounding matter of fact in her statement, “but there’s not much I can do, can’t really leave him or make him change.” Y/n said rolling her eyes. Adams eyes widen, Turning to look at her. “You want to divorce him?” Adam ask, shocked. Y/M eyes widen realizing their words looking back at him. “I mean…if Lilith never left I for sure wouldn’t be here..” they said avoiding his black eyes, “so yeah I guess I do..”
Adam saw this as an opening, he reached over to take her hand in his, hold her small hands as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. Y/N eyes widen at his action her eyes shooting up at meet his. “You know,” Adam started, a smile growing on it. “I can’t help you..I could treat you better than he does.” He said moving for his whole body to face hers. “He truly doesn’t see how beautiful and perfect you really are..” Adam said to her moving closer. Y/N eyes moved between his eyes and their hands intertwined, “we shouldn’t do this..” she said said softly yet she didn’t move an inch away from him, Adam saw this as a sign. “Why shouldn’t we?” Adam asked his eye brow risen up, Y/N opened his mouth only for Adam to speak up again. “And don’t say because you’re married because you’re married to Lucifer because he slept with two married women.”
Y/N neared those words and stayed quiet, she knew he was right, Lucifer did steal both his wives, he knew what it felt like. Y/N was quiet for a moment more before squeezing his hand softly. “I don’t wanna hurt me..” Y/N said softly.. “but it’s ok for him to hurt you over and over again?” Y/N eyes met his, this times hers were watered up, Adam moved closer, his legs touching hers, “let me show you how much your really worth…” as those words left his mouth his lips met hers. Y/N eyes widen at kiss, she knew it was wrong but it felt right…
Y/N soon began to kiss back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Adam was quick to pull her onto his lap, both of her legs on both sides of him as their kiss deepen. Adams hands moved down to her hips forcing her body to arch forward and press against his body, the sudden motion made Y/N moan into the hot kiss. The sounds of Y/N pretty moans and her body press again him was already making his cock harden beneath her. Y/N felt his bulge rub against her clothed crotch, she gasped as the feeling of him.
Adam could feel her moved to get comfortable on her bulge, but with every movement rubbing against her, Adam knew he needed more of this, more of her. Adams grip tighten around her hips and he pressed her down on the visible bulge, the feeling of the friction made both of them moan in the kiss, Y/N almost lost all control and she softly grind on him. Adam was a little shocked by this action, “Damn she really does want this..” the thought to himself and helped guide her body as she grinds onto him, after a moment of the grinding, Y/N finally moved away her lips from his.
Y/N panted softly her E/C eyes meeting the deep black eyes. “We shouldn’t do this here..” Y/N said softly, her glistening eyes with anticipation. Adam could help but smirk as he pick Y/N up “just hold on a few minutes..” Adam said before moving quietly to the stairs. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around his neck, she felt a pit form in her stomach, she knew this was wrong but it felt so, so right. Soon they reached Adams room, thank god it was away from everyone else’s. As the entered the room, he kick closed the door before throwing Y/N onto the bed. Y/N gasp feeling her body hit the bed hard. As Y/N was getting over the shock of being thrown, Y/M felt her legs get spread and Adam get between them and he smashes her lips on his, Y/N kissed back desperately, craving the feeling he was giving her
Adams hands quickly finding the hem of her shirt, ripping it off, making Y/N moan. Adam pulled away from the kiss, A string of saliva connecting the two, his eyes moved between her bra and her eyes, “I need to hear that again..” Adam said as he used is claw to cut her bra off. Y/N gasp as her boobs were not exposed to him, Adam couldn’t help but lick his lips as he moves his head down taking one of her nipples in his mouth. Y/N moaned at his tongue playing with her nipple, her hands tangled in his hair. Adam bite her skin softly making her moan louder. Adam loved the sounds of her pretty little moans. He removed his mouth licking the wound, he wanted to mark her up, “you like that baby?” Adam asked her as he teased her. “Fuck yes..” Y/N said with a moan, Adam slipped his hand into her pants feeling the wet fabric of her panties and snickered, “look like someone’s excited..” as he nearly ripped her pants pulling them down.
Y/N watched as he removed her pants, she was now completely exposed to him besides the panties that were still on. Adam loved the sight before him, Y/N, Lucifer’s wife layed before him, surrounded by her tattered clothes and wore panties all wet, all for him. Admiring this view an idea popped in his head, he reached in his pocket and grabbed his phone, snapping a quick photo with Y/N, he needed this moment memorized. After he with swift ease tore her panties off, exposing her wetness to the cold air. Y/N moaned quietly at the crisp air, closing her eyes shut before feeling his hands connect with her hips, fulling her forward.
Her eyes shot open to see his rob gone discarded on the floor. He was on the bigger side but it was perfectly, he felt perfect against her. Against her wet pussy she could feel him bulge up against her. Adam heard her moans and smiled wickedly holding her hips still so she couldn’t move, “Aw you like that? You like the feeling of me already?” He said in a teasing tone, as he softly humped she wet pussy. Y/N moaned nearly begging for more, Adam had to admit he needed her, now. He grabbed her throat, feeling her swallow and moan quietly. He leans down to her ear “Be a good girl and beg and I might give you what you want…” he said in a whisper, Y/N whimpered out for him. Adam smiled, his hand moving to her chi holding it moving to meet her E/C eyes with his, “Use your words. Beg.” He said, sounding more of demand than asking. Y/N was quick to do so, “Please Adam..” she moaned out to him, “I need you please..”
“What do you need baby..?” He asked teasingly, his hands roamed downwards, reaching her clit rubbing his thumb over it. Feeling him touch her clit, Y/N let out a louder moan, shaking from the pleasure. “I need you to fuck me..” Y/N said, sounding
Like a beg. Adam was happy to abide her request. He removed his hand from her pelvis making her whimpering from the lack of pleasure, “you wanna see why they call me ‘dickmaster’?” Adam said. Y/N’s eyes watched at as he pulled down his pants along with his boxers.
Y/N eyes widened, he was huge! He was girthy and about 6.5 inches, he was a little shorter then Lucifer but much girthier, Y/N felt her core ache at the sight. Adam couldn’t help but laugh softly at her physical reaction, he loved how desperate she was. Adam took his tip and began to rub it between Y/N’s wet folds, causing her to whimper at the teasing. “Aww, look at you, already much a mess and we haven’t even started..” Adam said as he continued to tease her hole.”Please Adam..Please.” Y/N said, arching her hips forward making his cock press deeper into her. Adam grabbed her hips, looming over her “since you’ve been so good..” Adam said as he pushed in her.
Y/N moan out back arching feeling him stretch her out l, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around his neck. Adam continued to push inside her tight hole, causing her to moan. Adam groaned as he felt her walls grip around him, “fuck your tight..” he said as stated still for a moment, loving the feeling of her warmth before be pulled nearly the whole cock out, leaving just the tip in before thrusting hard back into her. The hard thrust caused Y/N to moan loudly as Adam didn’t slow down this thrust. Y/N’s moaned loudly with each thrust, her nails dug into his skin.
Adam watched as Y/N watched face contorted into a moaning mess, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure, Adam smiled wide “look at you,” Adam said teasingly as he thrusted hard into wet pussy, “such a funking whore, begging to be fucked by me...” He said between groans, as he leaned down, his larger body pressed against her, his large hands never Y/N’s hips and he bit down on her neck, his teeth sinking into her skin making her bleed. Y/N was a moaning mess, face flushed eyes clouded with pleasure. Adam could taste metallicness of her sweet blood as he continued to thrust, he pulled back seeing the deep bit mark dripping blood, Adam smiled at the sight. “Look at the mess you are, letting me mark you up, mark you as my cock-sleeve,” Adam said as he speed up his thrust.
Y/N felt a pit start to form at the feeling of his thrust speeding up, Adam licked the bite mark before speak, “tell me who you belong to..” Adam said in a low voice. Y/N continued to moan and plead, Adam moved down and bit her shoulder, Making her yelp from the paint. As Adam removed his mouth from the fresh wound he asked again, “tell me,” he said as he grabbed her legs spreading them further apart, allowing his cock deeper access to her sweet tight cunt, “Who do you belong to slut?” He said, demanding an answer. “You!” Y/N said almost immediately between moans, Adam smiled “are you my little slut?” He ask teasingly.
“Full yes Adam fuck..” Y/N moans were not slurred. Adam pounded away fearfully, “That’s fucking right.” He said as he started to chase him own release, one of his hands was quick to move to her H/L H/C, taking a fist full and pulling it making her back arch, she moans becoming near screams of pleasure, thank god Adams room was isolated. “Admit it,” Adam said as he licked your bit wounds, “I fuck the better then that bastard you call a husband.” Y/N whimpered at his remark. Adam yanked her hair more causing her to scream out again, “Say it bitch, say it.” He said as he pounded more and more.
“Fuck Adam you’re better!” Y/N said between gasps for air and moans, tears peaking her eyes, “you’re so much better please don’t stop! Please! Please! Please!” Y/N screamed out feeling the pit in her stomach about to burst. Adam felt her walls tighten around him make him groan a long fuck as he removed his hand free from her hair. Adam wrapping his arms under hers, pulling her deep putting them both in a mating press. “I fucking own you, you hear me? I’m the best cock You’ll ever fucking have.” He said fucking her balls deep. “You gonna take every drop of my seed, gonna fuck a baby into you show everyone who you really belong too..” As those words left his mouth, Y/N moans slurred speech, her walls tightening even more around her.
Adam let out a dark laugh at the physical reaction, “Aw does the little whore wanna get knocked up? You wanna carry my baby, letting everyone know you’re mine?” He asked almost mockingly as he pounded, after a few more thrust Y/N’s knot came undone making her bodily nearly go limp as her orgasm took over making her let out an animalistic moan. Feeling her warm release around his aching cock, he couldn’t hold it anymore, after one more thrust he buried himself balls deep into her pussy, filling her up, groaning into her neck.
The room as hot, sweaty and filled with the aroma of sex and desires. After what felt like an eternity, Adam pulled out of her making her groan at the new empty feeling. Y/N body layed lump on his bed and he layed next to her panting. Adams dark eyes moved over to Y/N body, it was glistening in sweet her body shaking, but he couldn’t help but notice a smile on her face. Adam watched them lay there breathing heavily. After a moment Adam pulled her in close, pulling her on top of him, “your mine you hear me?” Adam said softly into her hair, Y/N with no energy left hummed is agreement before fall asleep. Adam layed there holding her close, feeling sleep take over his body he couldn’t help but think to himself. This might have been an act of revenge but he wanted more but alas, that’s tomorrow’s problem…
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