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#oh and a friend of hers just manipulated another friend of hers into letting them kill themselves
paperglader · 5 months
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in this episode Imogen:
Took off her circlet. You know, that one that finally gave her peace and quiet, that soothed her constant pain and anxiety, and that gave her the confidence and energy to get back to fully feeling comfortable on her own skin after years. That’s the one. She just took it off.
Told laudna that she was disgusted by the fact that delilah was always watching them. You know, something that laudna fully has no control over whatsoever.
Admitted that she felt like she’s “tainted” and that the gods have been ignoring her for her entire life, in spite of her trying over and over to reach them. So she doesn’t really want to save them.
Mentioned being genuinely scared of meeting Liliana again. Totally not a problem, I’m sure nothing bad will happen there. Specially not in the next couple of episodes.
Said some unfair stuff to fearne, that I genuinely think is coming from somewhere else entirely, and I hope we circle back to eventually.
It’s safe to say that I am officially ✨worried✨ about the farmgirl
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gayemoji · 2 months
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jesus fucking christ.
#abt wilbur.#abuse#this is largely going to be my rambling immediate largely self centric thoughts so . yknow keep scrollin if you dont want that.#i have nothing meaningful to add to the conversation except watch shelbys vod.#at first i only saw wills tweet bc my brother told me about it#and i thought it was about his EX ex girlfriend or something so i brushed it off like 'oh okay damn a general misunderstanding'#then i searched tumblr saw shubble. found her vod . jesus christ.#hes always poked fun at himself being like 'yeah im shit and manipulative'#so theres always been a nagging. ick . in the back of my head. but never enough to actually. stop myself from liking his content/music.#so yeah. another lesson in 'no no red flags exist for a reaosn. listen to your instincts is a saying for a reason.'#all the love and support to shelby. her candidness & how obviously much she HAS been able to grow past THAT SHIT is genuinely inspirational#not that she needs to be inspirational etc. etc. its just good to know she'll be okay. shes in a good place. thank god.#all the stress for wilburs content friends. whether theyve been manipualteed whether theyve whatever i hope theyre . making good choices.#i say give them time. ik theres a lot of creators immediately coming out. therell be a lot who have to process this shit.#there'll be a lot whove. knowinigly / accidentally been complicit. theyre individuals treat them as such.#personally i just . have not cared about m a n y dsmp era mcyt for a W H I L E . so im happy to detach forever at thsi rate.#i havent been in the mcyt sphere for a hot fucking minute now. i hope youre all doing okay.#this shit hits weird. its okay to feel weird. if you want somewhere to vent my dms the replies on this post the tags are all free and open.#don't stew in it. you dont have to fear feeling selfish or self-centric or shifting the spotlight. you need to let that shit out.#thsis hit sucks !!!! a bunch of his/lvjy songs are comfort songs for me.#idk what the fuck to do about that. my immediate /want/ is to burn it. but thats easier said than done sometimes#if youre gonna 'separate the art from the artist' at least fucking pirate his music. youtube to mp3 that shit.#you can add local 'on your computer' files to spotify.#seperate art from the artist by seperating his monetary gain of YOUR consumption of it as much as possible. /AT LEAST/.#but also good luck separating his largely personal art from him.#im not tryna be condescending im in the same boat.#fucking white whine in a wetherspoons is no. 2 on my panic attacks playlist.#thats not his to take from me anymore. but ik if i listen to it ever again itll make my skin crawl.#ofc its not about me. its not about us the unaware fans. and im glad to know for sure now hes a REAL piece of shit.#m
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rinhaler · 5 months
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I’m begging and scratching at the walls for more plug!sukuna omg. I’ve been thinking about him at a party really clinging to a shy girl, trying to get her to “just take one hit you’ll like it” and something something he convinces her to sit on his lap and he lets her explore his body, slowly getting really worked up. Letting her have “control” until he loses it.
Once again this weeks dub has me by the NECK Ray chase ate and left no crumbs UNFFF I hope you like this! Scummy Sukuna my beloved 💖
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, creampie, manipulation, vaginal sex, choking, degradation, smoking oui'd, coercion, slight oral fixation.
words: 2k
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“Alone?” a voice asks, sitting beside you on the couch. You shuffle as much as you can to give him space, keeping your knees together as he decides to manspread and rest his arm around the back.
“No I’m with my—” you turn to look at Nobara before realising she’s attached her lips to someone else’s while you were disassociating. “Oh, well, kind of.” you shrug.
He smirks, leaning forward. “Good,” he tells you as he pulls some things out of his pocket and places them on the coffee table. It’s like a science, watching people roll blunts. You’ve never tried it and you’ve never wanted to, not when you’ve heard so many horror stories. But whenever you’ve been around to see someone roll, you’ve always been oddly captivated. “You look lost.”
“U-Um…” you huff, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t really like parties…” you sigh.
He nods, not saying anything else as he continues to finish rolling his joint. It’s quick and easy, like he does this all day everyday and has it perfected. You watch him light it, but look down at your lap when he leans back against the couch.
“Why not?” he wonders. “Too loud? Too many people?”
“Yeah…” you confess, feeling a little lame as you admit your true feelings.
You’re in the prime of your life and you’re complaining about being at a party. You wouldn’t mind as much if Nobara wasn’t occupied. But you don’t know anyone else here. Truthfully, you probably would have snuck home if he didn’t sit down to talk to you. You’d much rather be at home with some takeout food and a bingeable show.
Your heart sinks a little when he stands up. Have you really embarrassed yourself that much? So much so that you’ve bored him enough to leave. He walks away, turning to face you after taking a good amount of steps.
“Are you coming? Thought you didn’t like parties.” he speaks. He waits until you stand up, but carries on walking before you can catch up to him. You follow him through the house and up the stairs. It’s a lot quieter, though there are still muffles. Soft moans from one room and crying from another. “Sukuna. If you were wondering.” he introduces himself, not bothering to look at you as he does.
You tell him your name, and realise he’s brought you to a bedroom.
“Get comfy.” he instructs, he turns on a light, dimming it slowly when he sees your eyes screw shut from the brightness. The music still plays softly through the gaps of the door and into the room from the rest of the house. “Why’d you come here if you don’t like parties?”
“My friend… she wanted me to.”
“So you just do what people tell you to?” he asks, sitting beside you on the bed.
Your face fills with heat and your heart begins to race. You wiggle away from him slightly to keep some distance between you. He takes a drag of his blunt, looking up at the lights as he puffs a plume of smoke towards the ceiling.
“Not always.”
He doesn’t respond, instead, he holds the blunt out for you to try. You shake your head, though, declining immediately. Even with a few drinks in your system, you know better.
“Awe, no fun.” he chuckles, taking another drag. “C’mon. One hit, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer to you again and putting his arm around you. Your head drops, eyes finding where his hand rests on your hip before looking at the joint he’s holding right in front of you.
“I— I’ve never… I’ve never smoked before.” you admit.
“That’s cute. One puff won’t hurt, yeah?” he speaks, though you’re unsure if he’s trying to convince you or if he’s actually certain it won’t hurt. He smiles widely, it’s toothy and somewhat intimidating. He’s happy. He can see that you’re considering it. “Promise you’ll like it.”
You gulp, heartily, before wrapping your lips around the end of it. You’ve smoked cigarettes before, and you could only assume it would be similar.
Wrong.
You cough, sputter, gag from the invasion. He laughs at your expense, though he smooths a large palm up and down your back to soothe you. Your throat feels charred. It’s like the smoke has burnt holes throughout your oesophagus and the edges are scalding.
He gets up and walks towards a mini fridge you hadn’t noticed, tossing a bottle of water in your direction. And you drink it, quickly, the bottle crackling as you squeeze and drain it of every drop you can steal.
“S-Sorry,” you apologise, still coughing slightly. “That was embarrassing.”
“Yeah.” he agrees. “You really weren’t lying about it being your first time, hah?” he keeps going. Unfortunately for you, you don’t realise that he’s goading you. And it’s working.
You ask for another hit, out of principle. And of course, he smiles and hands it to you.
It gets easier, for sure. Soon enough, you’ve smoked the whole thing. He applauds you, impressed. But why does it make your ego swell? Your confidence soars, you don’t feel so shy anymore.
Not around him.
“C’mere,” he instructs, patting his thighs as an invitation. You look between his ruby red eyes and thick thighs as you decide whether you want to or not. You hesitate, a few times, before eventually standing up. He guides you down by your hips, your thighs straddling his while his hands dip beneath your skirt and thumbs stroke your skin soothingly.
Your eyes feel heavy, and he can’t help but smile when he sees how bloodshot they are. He can see how your eyes want to widen in shock. So utterly confused about how you got here.
He doesn’t give you a chance to think, though, not when his large hand cradles the crown of your head and pulls you towards himself. Your lips are caught together. It’s tame, to him. But to you it’s scandalous. A random hook up isn’t something you’ve ever done. You’re a long term relationship kind of girl.
But you can’t help yourself, now. His personality is magnetic, and his charm is captivating. You don’t want to disappoint him, for some reason. The thought of letting him down scares you. The idea of disobeying him makes your heart race.
That could just be the drugs, though.
You pull back, tracing your fingers over his body. A breathy gasp leaves you as he pulls off his vest, tossing it aside to reveal his chiselled body. Your cunt throbs as you feel how ripped he is. He’s the biggest man you’ve ever been with, like this, and he knows it too. He can tell by the look on your face.
The way you unashamedly squeeze his biceps. Two of your little hands aren’t even enough to wrap around the entire muscle.
He watches you, calmly, admiring how cute you look as you inspect every inch of his body.
“Having fun?” he asks, you give nothing but a dumb nod in response. His skin is smooth and you find yourself tracing a single finger over all of his tattoos. He guides you by your chin to look at him again, leaning forward to kiss you.
You reciprocate, allowing him to kiss you his way. He slips his tongue between the seam of your lips and two rough hands reach under your skirt and grab the fat of your ass. You wrap your legs around his back as he lifts you up, helping you back down so that your back is flat against the mattress.
He ruts his body against yours. And you can feel just how hard he is beneath his sweats. It’s huge, it feels huge. But you can barely focus as each dry humping of his hips stimulates your core.
“Fuck, need to fuck you,” he whispers against your ear and nibbling on the lobe. Your eyes roll back as he chokes you softly, and your own hips begin to buck as you search for more pleasure.
You’ve never felt so aroused before.
It’s like all of the blood is rushing to your core and pleading with you to stimulate yourself further. You need more. More. You wonder if anything will ever be enough, though.
“S’fucking cute, wan’ my cock bad, hah? Am I right?”
“F-Fuck me, please.” you whimper, screwing your eyes shut so that he can’t see how embarrassed you are.
He loosens his grip on your neck, moving it to cup your cheek instead. You instinctively open your mouth for him, and he lets out a soft laugh before pushing his thumb between your lips. He pulls down his sweatpants just enough to free his cock, eyes not leaving you for a second as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, bobbing and sucking all the while.
“I fucking knew it,” he speaks, “Always the quiet ones, always the dirtiest.”
You giggle a little, still suckling on his thumb like it was your sole purpose on this earth. He flips up your skirt to reveal a cute little g-string beneath.
“You don’t like parties? S’that why you came here dressed like a little whore?” he asks, pushing the material into the crease of your thigh. He lines his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. “Sorry I didn’t prep ya, but you’re drenched anyway. Besides, a slut like you prob’ly doesn’t mind getting fucked like this.” he continues. He forces himself into you, ignoring the resistance until he’s snuggled inside.
He is huge.
The way your pussy splits open just to take the sheer girth of him makes you wonder if he’s even human. His cockhead nudges at your cervix, and every thrust he delivers hammers against it ruthlessly.
“H-Hurh…” you try to tell him that you’re hurting, but his thumb presses down on your thumb and it makes you gag. Though he slows down, knowing you were warning him. He isn’t a complete monster, after all. He’s a bit of a dick, sure, but he wants you to enjoy this, too.
His thrusts aren’t as deep anymore, sparing your poor cervix for the time being. The pain subsides and turns into something a lot more pleasant. So much so, that you can’t stop yourself from raking your nails across his back as he hits just the right spot inside of you with his enormous cock.
He pulls his thumb from your mouth, opting to squeeze the sides of your neck again instead. Your moans become lodged in your throat, and you can’t voice just how fucking perfect he feels inside of you. You’re close, so fucking close.
Though surprisingly, he cums first, loudly. Unable to withstand the blinding pleasure he feels as your tiny little cunt tightens around him. His body breaks out in a cold sweat as he moans, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. His restraint is lost, and he’s soon nudging against your cervix again, forcing every drop he can deep into your womb.
The warm feeling has your eyes crossing as you begin to spasm around him. He hisses, desperately, too overstimulated to keep quiet as your walls begin to hug his cock.
“You can stay the night, if you want.” Sukuna tells you, pulling himself out of your spent hole. He wipes his dick off on your inner thigh, though you barely register it as you think about what he said.
“Is this… Is this your house? Your party?”
“Little brother’s party. I live here, too.”
He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. You’re certainly a sweet girl, and you seem like the type to get attached. He has an ulterior motive in mind, though. Sure, maybe he’ll fuck you a few more times throughout the night. But he hopes you won’t be a fool and fall for him.
He has a goal for the following morning.
He wants to know how Yuuji’s girlfriend will react to seeing a girl leave his bedroom.
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© 2023 rinhaler
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ohbo-ohno · 7 months
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Perv Soap who lets his other teammates grope you as much as they want, as long as they make you cum so that he can condition you to like being treated like this.
perv soap who shares you with his friends oh i am. i am simply unwell
cw for dubcon/noncon and manipulation
you love your boyfriend soap so much, you never want to give him a reason to leave you! and that means that you let a lot of shit slide that you might not with another person. johnny's really pushy in bed (always wanting to do things you try to make clear you're not comfortable with) and he's really into PDA. but every time you ask him to back off he gives you one of two excuses - either something about how his love language is physical touch, or something about how nobody else is even looking and you're totally overreacting
but he's also really sweet, so it's easy to let most things slide. it's hard to remember how uncomfortable you were with his hands under your shirt at dinner when he cuddles up to you so tight in bed <3
johnny always likes to show you off. he'll buy you clothes you'd have never bought on your own, dress you up in little scraps of fabric that make you fidgety and uncomfortable all night :( mini skirts and crop tops, never gives you a bra or underwear to wear with it, wants as much of your skin on display possible
and his friends get this look when they see you. you tell yourself they wouldn't do anything to their friend's girlfriend, but they look at you the same way johnny does - hungry and predatory
ANYWAYS. set up done
johnny sits you on his lap during dinner, stands to go get another round of drinks and drops you onto ghost's lap before he leaves :( lifts you up by the hips, gives you a quick tap on the ass and says watch her, lt, yeah? then just struts off. your face goes hot and you try to move off of him, already muttering apologies, but ghost wraps an arm around your stomach and holds you close to his chest :( rumbles something like stay where your boy put you, love and holds a heavy hand over your bare thigh to keep you still. he's also the one you catch watching you and johnny the most, his gaze heavy and dark.
(johnny keeping you sat on ghost's lap, straddles you - both of you - and makes out with you. ghost's hands run up your sides, occasionally over to johnny, and you can feel him breathing against your neck, hot and heavy. johnny grinds against your stomach until he comes, smiles down at you and finally pulls away, dragging you into his lap for a cuddle)
making out and dancing with soap on the dance floor and you feel another body behind you. you don't think much of it until the person starts grinding, and then you jolt away from johnny to look over your shoulder. it's gaz - smiling down at you and working his hips against your ass in far too sexual ways. you think maybe johnny will scare him off, but he just turns you around and starts leaving hickeys along your neck with his hands keeping your hips moving, so you're stuck sandwiched between the two of them. gaz leans down and you're convinced he's going to kiss you too, go stiff and wide-eyed because you have no idea what you'll do, but instead he just leaves little kisses peppered around your face. and that's not so bad, gaz's lips are soft and the little touches are kinda nice, each one longer and a little wetter than the last. you hardly even notice when he finally kisses your lips, the slide of his tongue soft against yours.
price always scolding johnny for the way he treats you :/ sees all the bruises on your neck and goes you know she's not a chew toy, right son? but soap just smiles real big and hugs you tight to him, says she's whatever i want her to be and you don't really know how to feel about that. johnny gropes you and works you up at a dinner with everyone despite all your whispered complaints and begs that he stop, then leaves you just on the edge of coming. price rolls his eyes from across the table, snaps something about how it's rude to leave a lady wanting, johnny. go ahead and get her off, make it quick. and he does and you're all wiggly and teary in his lap, keep trying to hide your face because you can feel gaz and ghost and price all staring at you :( price calls johnny good boy when you've gone limp
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actual-changeling · 5 months
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Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today I have something surprisingly not kiss-related—though it is still about the final fifteen because hey, gotta keep the brand image.
I read this post by @goodoldfashionednightingale and began typing a small response. Then I made the mistake of drinking half a litre of coffee on an empty stomach right after taking my adhd meds and my brain began vibrating at the speed of light.
But oh, have I discovered parallels. This, my friends, is about the nightingale, where it comes from, what it means, and what the fuck happened in part 3 of 1941.
Ready? Let's go.
Now, as OP said in her post, s1e3 is important. In the script book, Neil himself says that these flashbacks are where the producers would tell him to cut scenes to save money. They suggested every single one—except for the one he ended up taking out, which was the bookshop opening scene set in 1800. The others are building blocks, you need them to see how their relationship progressed and what kind of important milestones they had.
(side note: author is very miffed that english does not have a separate subjunctive form like german which makes quoting lines way more confusing than it has to be)
The one I want to mention is neither 1941 nor 1967. No, what I want to talk about is 1601. This might be about to get a bit rambly but I will do my best to keep it tidy.
The focus of that flashback is on the Arrangement, yes, but it gives us a lot more information than that.
they both see Shakespeare's plays regularly, maybe even meet in the crowd
Crowley prefers the comedies
Aziraphale does not seem to have a preference, he enjoys the tragedies and presumably the comedies too
there is an oyster woman selling food -> reference to their meeting in Rome when Aziraphale tempted him to try some oysters
Aziraphale reflexively denies their relationship
Crowley might say he is not worried but circles Aziraphale the entire time, keeping watch
they both ask favours of each other and both agree to do them
What stands out to me in relation to what I am about to expand on is the line that Crowley delivers after Aziraphale's little 'buck up'—which Crowley finds adorable btw but that's a post for another time.
"Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety."
Why would he say that? What exactly is prompting this? WHY say that specific line?
At first I thought it might be to tempt Shakespeare because he does commit art theft by just copying that line down, BUT I think there is more to that. So much more, in fact. I am wiggling now because I am very excited about this and my adhd meds are kicking in anyway.
First things first: the line itself.
It appears in Shakespeare's play Antony and Cleopatra, a romantic tragedy, which was first performed in 1607 aka six years after this meeting. Enobarbus is talking about Cleopatra and describing why Antony won't leave her. Her.
Ccrowley uses his—again, who is he even talking about? Hamlet? Shakespeare? Random poetic quote?
No, I think this line is about Aziraphale and it's a code. Right after, the next line from Aziraphale is "What do you want?", meaning that this is their code phrase for 'I have a favour to ask of you'.
Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety
Age will not affect his appearance nor will he ever become boring to Antony. Crowley, who later chooses the name Anthony for himself, tells Aziraphale, an immortal, that he will never age and that he will never grow bored of him.
It's flattery, pure and simple, and it's code at the same time. This establishes the important fact that they might use more of Shakespeare's work as code/already have a system in place (even though he steals Crowley's line for later).
They play their little morality game of back and forth, Aziraphale agrees, Crowley probably manipulates the coin toss, and THEN we find out that the oyster woman is called Juliet.
Why? What is the meaning of that? Why give her a name and that name in particular? Why bring the sexy oysters back into it?
Romeo and Juliet premiered in 1597, so it is safe to assume they have both seen it by 1601, but this is mostly for the audience, not for us-or is it?
Aziraphale gives Crowley puppy eyes until he agrees to make Hamlet popular, and while I don't think Juliet itself is a code word, although it's very interesting that the OYSTER woman is the one with that name (especially adding what we now know about Job), Romeo and Juliet might be.
Yes, the Nightingale song came out in 1940 but the bird has been around for much, much longer, and, as many probably know by now, also shows up in Romeo and Juliet.
This is where I am starting to vibrate at the speed of light because listen to me. Listen.
Crowley is Juliet. Anthony J. Crowley. Antony Juliet Crowley.
(side note: I'm not saying that Crowley chose it based on that—though I am not not saying that—but that it is a clue for us at the audience.)
Why do I think that? In the play, Romeo spends the night with Juliet and then goes to leave as the night begins to end. Juliet tries to stop him and tells him that the birds they are hearing aren't larks, which sing at dawn, but nightingales, which sing at night.
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Who is the one always pushing for more? Crowley. He is the one trying to convince Aziraphale it's safe, they're safe to spend time together.
Romeo disagrees with Juliet and says 'I must be gone and live, or stay and die'.
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Leave and stay alive, or stay and hell/heaven will punish us. It gets even better though.
We all know how Romeo and Juliet ends: Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, kills himself, Juliet finds him and then kills herself too.
Hey, do you know how Antony and Cleopatra ends?
Antony thinks Cleopatra is dead, kills himself and dies in her arms, then Cleopatra also kills herself—by snake poison; Romeo also died by poison.
The parallels are THERE. They are jumping down our throats! Two tragedies, two sides, several familiar names and phrases, same fear, same ending.
I think by now you can guess how this ties back to 1941.
We do not see how that night ends, but we know it ends. One of them wants to stretch it out, maybe even quotes Romeo and Juliet because look at the setting!
Candlelight, wonderful night they spend together, the threat of Crowley's early demise, and, to quote the play once more, this time Romeo: I have more care to stay than will to go.
Crowley thought it was his last night on earth and went with Aziraphale to his bookshop, to be with him, because he cares more about that than the fact that he will be dragged to hell come morning. Do you remember?
"Expect a legion to come for you first thing tomorrow" THAT is the threat. They have until dawn, just like Romeo and Juliet, which is why she is so desperate for the birds to be nightingales. Fortunately for them, Aziraphale saves the day, BUT there is NO SECURITY. They do not KNOW if a legion will still show up or not. If dawn is a deadline and they will need to fight.
Sure, they improved their chances, but who knows? Maybe they will come for him anyway, it's not like hell is all fair and square.
The best part: it gets even better.
Juliet eventually panics and tells him to go, and Romeo drops a line that huh, sounds oddly familiar, doesn't it?
'More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!'
Remind me, what does Aziraphale say again? Ah, yes. Perhaps there is something to be said for shades of grey.
There is more. Yes, even more. We know the whole rescue relies on a magic trick, a switch. Guess what Juliet yearns for while telling Romeo to go save himself?
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Oh, now I would they had changed voices too. While they did not for Romeo and Juliet—they kiss and part—they did for our two. One fabulous switch and we're good.
(side note: Toads? Associated with hell. Larks? Associated with the dawn, yes, but also heaven since Romeo says 'Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads.')
So, this was a whole lot of information, let's see if I can summarize my thoughts.
I believe the nightingale is a code word that has existed even before 1941 and gained a lot of importance over the years. In 1941, the song is added to the meaning and whatever happened between the two that we have not seen yet, it fundamentally changed their relationship. Maybe they kissed, maybe one of them tried to convince the other to prolong the night but they parted on not-great terms.
The nightingale and the song become a symbol of hope, a goal to achieve, another uninterrupted night, maybe, or an uninterrupted life.
When they part in the final fifteen, it's morning. Crowley points at the sky and says "no nightingales", which at that point has several different layers to it.
No nightingales because their night is over, just like with Romeo and Juliet, and please, please allow me to add another detail, because I am frothing at the mouth over this. The scene I quoted, known as balcony scene, do you know what it is preceded by?
A ball.
Star-crossed lovers defying their sides, falling in love at a ball, getting a hurried, wonderful night together but torn apart by danger of punishment, the nightingale as a dream, as a wish for unhurried time together. Family rejection, torn apart by parents, willing to die for each other so they can reunite in death.
No nightingales. The ball, the romance, is over, their dancing is over, heaven is tearing them apart, and Aziraphale returns to heaven while they are both stuck in a pit of misunderstanding and miscommunication, all bound together by fear for each other.
The thing is, Crowley hates tragedies, he never liked the "gloomy ones", and he does not want them to end in one—luckily, this isn't the end. Yes, they kiss and part, but the play keeps going. We have an entire act 3 to fix what Romeo and Juliet couldn't, to ensure that this is a COMEDY, not a tragedy.
Both Antony & Cleopatra and Romeo & Juliet died out of fear, hurried into making bad decisions because they knew what would happen if their sides were to catch up with them.
Crowley and Aziraphale can reunite heaven and hell with love, not death. This is THEIR story and they are writing the ending. No more day and night, no more deadlines, no more hiding and sneaking about, no more fear of larks and sunshine.
Good Omens will end the way it began: In a garden with two no-longer-star-crossed lovers embracing the song of a lark as well as that of the nightingale.
I hope this made sense to everyone who was no present while my mind started to vibrate itself into a puddle because the thing is I can see Neil doing all of this completely on purpose.
Thoughts? Questions? Additions? Come and join me in my insanity and until next time I have a mental breakdown over this show (probably in like two hours).
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perlelune · 1 month
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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.
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Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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“Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.
But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.
If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?
You begin to rise.
“Oh, a break, sure…”
Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”
You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.
“I guess I could stay,” you concede.
Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.
“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”
You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes. 
“No problem.”
But one issue arises. 
The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness. 
Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.
Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end. 
You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts. 
“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you. 
You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.
They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed. 
A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”
“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails. 
“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.
Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank. 
Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.
Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit. 
Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology. 
“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”
Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.
So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.
“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”
Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”
“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”
You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?
“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”
“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.
“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.
Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.
“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”
“...Surviving isn’t living.”
She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”
Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.
“Clemmie…”
She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.
“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”
“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.
She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”
Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.
She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”
Your forehead creases.
“I don’t drink.”
Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”
“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.” 
This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.
Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.
Until now.
“Really?”
Clemensia’s smile widens.
“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”
“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.
You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to. 
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”
You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.
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Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.
Clemensia tugs you along.
“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges. 
You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.
“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”
You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.
“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”
Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.
“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble.
She waves her manicured hand dismissively.
“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.
“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”
Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”
Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.
“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”
Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.
“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.
“The only dress I have.”
She inspects it with a displeased frown.
“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”
She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.
“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.” 
“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”
You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.
Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.
Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.
Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”
She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.
As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”
The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.
Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.
“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.
Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.
“You remind me of me.”
Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried. 
“What?”
“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”
Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.
Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.
“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”
You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.
“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.
She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”
“Whose jaw?”
She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”
Heat sneaks inside your face.
You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason. 
So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?
A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings. 
You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.
“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.
The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”
“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.
She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”
 She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.
“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”
She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes. 
Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.
“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.
Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”
She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.
When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.
Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.
A smug smile unfurls on his lips.
“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.
Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.
“You’re late, Snow.”
Coriolanus snickers. 
“As if you’re ever on time.”
You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.
She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.
He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.
Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.
“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.
“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.
“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”
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wonijin · 4 months
Text
DOWNFALL
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you just wanted more budget for the soccer team. unbeknownst to you, karina wanted more. and before you know it, you were both knee-deep in a dangerous game of sweet lies and bitter emotions.
TAGS: enemies to less than enemies lovers. 3.2k words. thick juicy sexual tension. slight smut at the end.
WARNINGS: manipulation and sexual themes
the sea of students part as karina walks through. you follow her long graceful strides with your fast march.
“come on, karina. aren’t you supposed to be the president here?” you complained lowly in karina’s ear. people are already whispering because of the unusual sight of you and the student body president, you didn't dare attract more by arguing with her publicly.
“i am. that’s why you’ll regard me as president yoo.” karina replied without sparing a glance at you, her cold eyes trained forward.
“well then, president yoo. the soccer club needs more funds. as the captain, i’d like you to raise our budget just a teensy weensy more.”
this exact line has left your lips too many times these past few days. but who could blame you, the girl beside you refused over and over, leaving you no choice but to insist.
“how many times have i told you? we can't. the budget has already been decided so you’ll have to do with what you have.” you both reached an empty classroom and you closed the door behind you immediately.
“fuck that. we missed championship last time because of your shit budgeting. you think i’d stand for the same shit twice.” your hands flew up in the air in frustration, inhaling a deep breath. karina points her icy glares toward you, freezing you in place.
“if you think you can just get whatever you want, then you’re dead wrong. i’m not like my predecessors who bends to every single one of your whims.”
your brows furrow at her words. before you could reply, she had already opened her mouth.
“so i suggest you either give up or you find another way to get to championships.” with that, karina slams the door shut, leaving you fuming and glaring at her back.
karina knows you. she’d seen firsthand your effect on people. she’d watched you break peoples heart. she’d witnessed your charm work to the previous presidents. only to be reduced to tears when they realize they are but a means to an end.
in her eyes, you tarnished the student council’s reputation. they were branded as your puppets. one word from you, and the most respected students karina knew heeded. all because they found you endearing. oh, how it broke the ever so hard working girl.
but karina won’t turn out like them. she refused to be. in fact, she’s on a mission to get revenge. for her friends and for the council. a mission to restore the student council to its former glory and to destroy you.
this is either the stupidest idea you ever cooked or the cleverest.
the school parking lot was flocked with students despite the scorching weather. while cars of all shapes, color and sizes lodged aimlessly.
“everybody! thank you for coming today!” you shouted at the top of your car, holding a megaphone in one hand. “welcome to the soccer team’s sexy summer car wash! where we wash your car in ways both you and the car will enjoy!” cheers erupted through the crowd. you peer among the people gathered and you think just how much you’ve earned from the participation fee alone.
“let’s get this party started, shall we?” you put down the megaphone beside you. the crowd goes wild as you remove your shirt. your team members followed after. and the parking lot is in chaos.
the party is in full swing with more and more people appearing by the hour.
“i didn’t think washing cars would be this fun.” winter giggled beside you as you fill up buckets of water. it was safe to say winter liked the attention. after all, many are already lining up to take her home tonight.
“of course, when have i ever had a bad idea?” you grinned.
“every idea of yours is bad,” winter’s nose scrunch, remembering all those times you got the team in trouble. “speaking of, are you sure karina won’t just pop up suddenly? i mean look at how many people there is, she’s gonna find out.”
“then, let her. we’re students and this is our school.” you shrugged but both you and winter know it isn’t as simple as that. at least not when it comes to yoo jimin.
“she already thinks you’re the devil who have sex with everyone in exchange for favors. this would only make shit worse between the both of you.” winter’s words rang true to ears. unfortunately, you were chose to deaf to reason and consumed by your hatred for the president to heed her advice.
“she can do whatever she wants and i could care less, winter.” if karina wants to paint you as the villain, so be it. those girls, her friends and the past council members, they slept with you willingly. they tried to give you what you want in hopes of winning your heart. but they didn't and so they wept.
“and would you really stop all this just because theres a chance little miss president will come?” at that, both you and winter come back to the heart of the mob.
the team didn’t really have to try to be suggestive or anything. walking around shirtless and flexing your muscles every now and then is enough for this sexy car wash to be sexy. after all, who wouldn’t be satisfied with sweaty six pack abs.
you were washing the hood of someones volvo while the owner was flirting with you.
suddenly you hear a murmur ripple through the crowd. you craned your neck to see the sea of people part.
a koenigsegg jesko pierced the population of teenagers. its engines roar over the hush whispers and its ivory skin reflecting the awe-struck faces of the students.
the luxurious car stopped behind you. everybody fell silent and you stood up, each one eager to know who is the driver.
the door opened and everybody broke out in gasps and distinct whispers. you looked at her with wide eyes as you stood frozen in place.
karina sauntered over to you. confidently and slowly, like she owned all the time in the world. strangely, there was no hint of anger in her gorgeous face. but her eyes held something you couldn’t fathom.
imaginary electricity prickle your skin. the air around you gets more charge every step she takes. you try to school your expression once more.
karina stopped in front of you.
“karina-” you started. but her gaze kept your mouth from saying anything further. she raises her hand and a slender finger met your lips delicately. “shush.”
you quietly observe as she face the car you were washing. she inspects it silently. she traced the hood with her fingers without a word. bubbles gathered at the tip of her fingers. she lifts her hand once more and in a blink of an eye she flicked it over to you. the bubbles landing on your cheek.
“what the fuck?” before your hand can wipe your cheek, her hand stopped yours. the other landed on your cheek gently. you feel your throat get clogged up as your wide eyes meet her brown ones.
you inhaled sharply, shakily as she moved her thumb to remove the white foam. her face closer to yours than before, giving you the chance to admire her features. it was nothing short of perfection.
although you were more than certain the foam had long since left you face, her soft hands stayed perched on your face.
“what are you playing here, karina?” you growled lowly. karina smirks at your frustration. how entertaining to see you crumble.
she leaned impossibly closer. expensive perfume invaded your senses. your eyes closed for a second as you gulped. “you forget. this is my parking lot you’re standing on.”
“we’re students here, we’re allowed to use this space.” as if coming back to your senses, your back straightened as your hand flew to her waist. her smile faltered for a blink of an eye but you caught it. and your lips widened at the sight.
“my, why are you so defensive?” she giggled beside your hear. melodious as it sent your bare spine shivering. if that wasn’t enough, she brought her other hand to your abdomen. “i’m not here to stop your fun. i just dropped by to say hi to my favorite student.”
her body pressed against yours. so close, you can feel her ample chest. should your hands go any lower, it would meet her ass.
“what are you playing here, karina?” you ask one more time.
“i’m playing your game. so try not to lose,” each word left her mouth with diction and it registered onto your brain slowly. just as you were about to make a comeback, her lips planted a kiss onto your ear. you feel your body go red, your mind on haywire.
and when her spell has left your system, she was already in her car revving her engine.
the student body president had declared war. and so far, she’s winning.
“watch me get the highest bid. everybody wants a piece of this, no doubt.” giselle twirled, showing off her curves.
“i doubt anyone would even bid at you. they’ll be too busy putting their money on this.” kazuha replied, flexing her muscles.
everybody lined up back stage for the team’s charity dating. in truth, you’ve raised more than enough money for the team. however, you wouldn’t let the threat by the name of yoo jimin pass so easily. and everybody knows when you cross y/n l/n, you cross the whole soccer team.
so you made the perfect stage of revenge for your humiliation. that little scene from the car wash spread like wildfire, everyone who had a mouth were talking about it. good and bad.
“thanks. i owe you and the team.” you pat winter who is fixing her makeup in front of you. you were the last ones in the line.
“what do you mean? this would’ve happened sooner or later, with or without intervention from miss president.” winter laughed. she put down her mirror and turned her body towards you.
“it’s already too late to talk you down whatever insane plan you come up with. so i wish you luck instead” she smiled at you. winter already knew it will work, there wasn’t a time it didn’t. *captain never fails*, that’s the line the team holds onto.
then you heard her name get called on stage. not soon later, loud chants filled your ears.
and you were left with your own thoughts.
you knew karina was somewhere among the crowd. she’d bid for you until she wins. the night starts with the two of you. and that’s where your game begins. your favorite game, the chasing game.
you’ve never lost at this game. and you have no plans to.
“please welcome! consecutive season MVP for three years and of course captain of the soccer team, y/n l/n” the crowd roared your name. it echoes throughout the whole venue. adrenaline pumps throughout your body.
you smile and the crowd goes wild. “okay. we’re starting off 7K WON.” not a bad start, your pride tells you.
“12K WON.” could be better. your eyes scan the crowd. a woman like karina wouldn’t be hard to miss. no matter how many people are here.
“100K WON.” a gentle voice spoke up. everybody turned turned their heads towards the source. a woman holding the number “7” with a gloved hand.
there she is. sitting elegantly, dressed in white that shows of her milky shoulders. her hair down, her eyes piercing and her lips painted red. she looked ethereal just by sitting in a chair.
the crowd murmured as they watch karina throw the highest bid of the night. you were sure another wildfire had just been brought to life.
“going, sold! a date with miss l/n for 100K WON” the announcer clapped and the audience followed.
“well, folks. this officially ends the soccer team’s charity dating. thank you for coming. for those who won a date, enjoy. for those who didn’t, there are other ways and many more chances.”
you walk down the stage to where karina is standing. she patiently waits for you to reach her, eyes never leaving your figure.
“you must like crashing our parties.” you greet. you both know there’s no need to be hostile, for now at least.
“of course. like i would pass up the chance to see your miserable face.” she links your arms together. you hummed in response. “let me buy you a drink then. for bidding 100K WON for this miserable face.”
you let her guide you to the bar where she orders an expensive drink. figuring you wouldn’t be able to go through the night this sober, you settle for a beer.
“barbaric. just like how i imagined you.” she huffs through her nose. what a priss you thought.
“its a classic” you correct.
the bartender passes you the bar. without missing a beat, you drink some and leave some on your mouth. then, you press your lips to karina and passes the beer to her mouth.
the president makes a disgusted face that makes you chuckle. you see her throat bobbed up and down.
your eyes fly back to her face, “tastes better when its from my mouth, yeah?”
you invade her space until her familiar perfume invades your senses again. “you wanna play my game, karina? sure. i don’t mind.”
“but what i don’t understand is what you’re breaking your heart for?” you say like you already know she’s the one who’s going to end up in tears.
“break my own heart? as if you can get even close” she scoffs.
“because your friends cried over me? please, they knew what they were getting into. it was their fault for not paying attention enough.” you ignore her. and while your words ring true, she still felt anger bubbling in her chest.
“or is it because the past council treated me like a queen?” you look at her in the eyes and laugh lightly in disbelief. her brows furrow in a blink of an eye, but it was gone the moment it appeared.
“i didn’t tell them to do anything. everything they did, they did on their own accord. maybe that’s precisely why it pisses you.i just butter them up a little and suddenly all my wishes come true.”
you had struck a nerve. it was why she’s in this crusade to end you. she worked hard for her seat in the council, fought for her reputation and earned people’s respect. meanwhile, you didn’t do anything and people still kiss the ground you walk on.
people fail to see you. the true you. manipulative and toxic. only she does and it frustrates her.
“but that’s why i like you. while others were blind, you saw reason. they were too busy winning my favor but you were plotting my downfall.” you tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
suddenly, she grabbed you by your tie and crashes your lips together. her lips were soft as they looked. they contrast her aggressiveness. for a moment, both of you were list in your world full of hatred and anger for each other.
your teeth clashed and your tongues intertwine. when you pull away, a string of saliva connects both your lips.
karina takes your hand and lead you outside the venue where her expensive car is parked. both of you wastes no time getting in.
you don’t know how long the drive took but when you did arrive at her mansion, you were drowning in your own lust. in the blink of an eye, you were pinned in the door of her room.
your hands roam all over her, feeling every inch. her lips move from your lips to your jaw to your neck. while her hands reach lower and lower until she’s palming you. you throw your back.
“you think you’re so mighty.” she bites the skin beneath your ear.
“know what i like about being president?” she asks you even though shes aware you’re head is stuck in ecstasy to answer. “i get to put people like you in their place.”
karina rubs circles through your pants. your body burns at her touch, like there’s flames at her fingertips.
“why don’t i show you what your friends saw in me?”you breath out and she laughs at how stupid you sound. how could say that while you writhe under her fingertips.
“after all, you paid for a good time. let me show what your money is worth.” you you reach on to her back for the zipper of her dress. you pull it down, leaving her in her undergarments. your eyes feasts upon everything before you.
“like what you see?” she puts a finger on your chin, forcing your eyes to meet hers. she smirks before kissing you again, slowly this time. her hands quickly unbuttons your shirt and you shrugged it off, not breaking the kiss. you were about to remove your tie but she stops you. “keep it on.” she says firmly.
karina grabs you by the tie and pushes you onto her bed by your shoulders. she climbs onto top of your abdomen. her once more before she pulls away and puts hand on your chest to keep you down. with one hand, she takes off her bra. her boobs spilling for you too see. your eyes meet as her hands massages her voluptuous tits, moaning. she bit her lower lip and threw her head back, just to tease you.
unable to resist any longer, your hands reach out to touch. but her hands were faster, she removes the tie around your neck and binds your hands. “you can touch next time.”
“right now. all of you is mine.” her lips attack your neck until they’re red and purple. hands explore your body until they stop at your chest. squeezing them before removing your bra. her lips move onto them next. she pinched, sucked and you ached for more.
next, she removes your pants and your panties, leaving you bare before her. she admires and for the first time you feel your face flare from someone looking at your body.
as if testing the waters, she puts her knees between your thighs and raises them until her knees barely touch your bare core. “fuck.” you let out a breath.
“don’t worry. i won’t make you beg.” this time, the unsaid words hang on her tongue.
“i’ll give you everything you want tonight. until you’re too drunk to remember anything else but me.” your breath hitch as her hands rub circles on your thighs.
‘by the end of the night, you’re going to be wrapped around my finger’ the thought makes karina smirk.
she gives you one last kiss before diving down, disappearing between your thighs.
600 notes · View notes
temis-de-leon · 21 days
Text
MC with a selfish best friend
MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.
Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)
Masterlist
CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers
A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.
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Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.
It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.
She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.
Thank god she had her best friend.
Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.
MC wished she let her hold her hand too.
.
.
“She’s overthinking again. Not good”
“Look who’s talking”
“Hey! It was just a joke!”
“Should we talk to her?”
“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”
“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”
“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”
“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”
“Who ya calling selfish?”
“Ugh”
MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.
She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.
Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.
So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.
The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.
Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.
At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.
Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.
“Dinner is ready”
He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel. 
“Did you not sleep well last night?”
“Not for a while, no”
“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”
“I don’t know”
She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.
He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.
All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.
That would not continue. Not on his watch.
“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?”
“God, yes!”
They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.
.
.
Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.
Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.
Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.
Although, lately, things had been slightly different.
They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.
MC still said no.
Then Asmodeus put his input.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”
And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.
“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.
MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.
“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”
“No way!”
Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.
“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”
“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”
Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.
“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”
“About what?”
She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.
“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”
All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.
Of course, Mammon spoke first.
“Well, that’s a lot”
“No shit, you moron”
Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.
You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?
She achieved to ignore him in the end.
That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.
Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.
Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.
However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.
MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.
“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”
There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.
“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”
Beel stared at her with a worried expression.
“We don’t. It’s Saturday”
“Ah”
She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.
“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”
He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.
There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.
“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"
She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.
“Is it cold?”
“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”
MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.
“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”
His smile was too wide for him to answer.
.
.
Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.
MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?
She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.
“Don’t you want anything else?”
MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.
“No, I’m fine”
She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.
Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?
But no, it wasn’t that.
MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.
He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.
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Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.
She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.
“Is something wrong, MC?”
Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.
“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”
MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.
“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”
He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.
“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”
She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.
“Don’t be nasty!”
 “Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”
MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.
She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.
“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”
He gasped and hit her arm in return.
“As you should!”
.
.
“So… how do I look?”
Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.
“You look mighty fine, MC!”
“Stop!”
“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”
“Stop!!”
They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.
The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.
Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.
MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.
“C’mon, go change again!”
“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”
She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.
Then her phone rang.
MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.
She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.
“Is it The Unnameable?”
MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.
“The Unname… Robdemor??”
He nodded, blushing and looking away.
“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”
“She doesn’t bring bad luck”
MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.
“Don’t be stupid, MC”
The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.
Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.  
“She just… needs me sometimes”
“Sometimes??”
Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.
The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.
She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.
God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.
In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.
He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.
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It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.
But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.
She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.
Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.
She didn’t ask about MC once.
“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”
MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.
He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.
“Jesus, Belphie”
“No, just me”
“Ha ha ha”
Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.
“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.
“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”
“Watch me”
She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.
“Belphie!”
He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.
MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.
Whoa.
So that’s what it was.
That simple, uh?
MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.
No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.
“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”
Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.
“Why? Would you feel guilty?
He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.
“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”
“I will as long as I can get something out of it”
“You’re evil”
“Said the demon”
His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.
“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.
“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.
“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”
“Are you sure?”
No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.
She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.
“Goodnight, Belphie”
“Sweet dreams, MC”
He’d make sure of that.
.
.
MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.
Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.
Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.
“I think I’m going to cut my hair”
He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?
“May I ask why?”
“I need a change”
Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.
“Did something happen?”
She nodded, ignoring his question right after.
“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”
He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.
“Do you even like wine, MC?”
“That’s not the point”
“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”
She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.
“I just really need a change”
He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.
“That’s fine”
MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.
“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”
“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”
“I’m not a child, Lucifer”
“Might as well”
“Hey!”
“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.
“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”
Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.
The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.
“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”
Her smile at his words was worth millions.
.
.
It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.
The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.
And she could see why he would say that, honestly.
Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.
MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!
MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.
You disappoint me, MC.
After all I did for you?
I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.
I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.
You’ll never be able to forget about me then.
You’re disgusting.
MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.
The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.
She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.
“Hey, Henry!”
MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”
“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”
“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.
“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”
Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.
MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.
Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.
Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?
MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.
After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.
 “Hey Lev…”
“MC?”
He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.
Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.
“Would you help me change my phone number?”
She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.
Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.
God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.
She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.
She was crying.
.
.
.
@ourfinalisation
319 notes · View notes
gogolatte · 3 months
Text
Kiss me hard before you go ✮⋆˙
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✧ pairing: College Student!Fyodor x Fem!Reader
✧ nonnie requested: Hiii! Your work is amazing. If you have the time I'd like to request a collage AU Fyodor x reader. Where Fyodor is like the typical "star student" who is popular but doesn't really care much for most people in the school. And then a new student comes around who has the potential to rival him in both popularity and studies, but instead he falls deeply inlove (like, he is whipped) after meeting her during one of his chess sessions with Dazai (reader and Dazai are friends). But reader kind of only takes Fyodor's advances as a technique to manipulate her and ignores them. If you want to do a one shot it could be, for example, about reader getting in trouble with a teacher, first time meeting, a party, confession, first kiss or everything in one. But headcanons/scenarios are also greatly appreciated. You can take away some parts if needed and I'm okey with nsfw, if you want to go there. And understand fully if this gets ooc, delusion is my favorite poison :)
✧ word count: 3.7k
✧ contents: nsfw, fingering (f!receiving), praise, teasing, Fyodor is ooc, slight public fingering, roughness (if you squint). If I missed any warnings please kindly let me know!
✧ author's note: nonnie, I love you so much for bringing all of these ideas, they’re all so so amazing. I twisted it a bit, taking away some things and adding others, but hope you like it either way<3
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The class was highly boring. The teacher's explanation has long been ignored by almost everyone inside the small classroom— Some people were chatting silently in the back of the class, others even playing cards underneath the desk and others simply sleeping.
Well, it seems like either she has very bad sight or just decides to ignore lazy students since they probably won't listen even after she threatens to send them to the principal's office.
You, sitting almost in the front row, couldn't enjoy slacking off because she would most likely notice and find it disrespectful, which would eventually lead to getting in trouble.
But the sleepiness was starting to get you.
You were resting your face against your palm, eyelids heavy as you fought to stay awake.
Slowly, the teacher's voice seemed to grow distant.
Before you can gladly slip into the land of dreams, someone kicks your foot, making you flinch awake once more. Turning to your side, Dazai was chuckling.
“I don't want you getting in trouble y’know? You still have to come with me to my chess session after class.” He flashes you a mocking pout before returning his attention to the teacher— He wasn't listening either, after all, he had earbuds on.
Oh, right, you promised Dazai to go to his chess session because he "would feel lonely if his bestie is not there”. Actually, he probably just wanted to show off his abilities since he knew you lack of understanding in chess. At least that's what you thought.
Dazai told you he usually has this session with Dostoevsky, the top student with the best grades on campus. Nobody truly knows who of the two is the best, but no one can deny their big brains. You inevitably roll your eyes at the thought of two smarties having a deep conversation in front of you during their chess game.
The two of them were popular, though Fyodor doesn't seem to care about it. He doesn't want more friends than the two weirdos he's with, nor does he care about having a good relationship with other people on the campus— When someone asks him for help about a certain subject, he shoves them off by telling them “Go ask the teacher about it.”
Dazai on the other hand, it's much more social and gets along with almost everyone, but he has very few people whom he really trusts. You are one of them.
The bell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Everyone stood up as quickly as they could to leave this tedious class and get some fresh air. Sadly, you had to face yet another unamusing event.
You took a deep breath.
Maybe this wasn't too bad? You had to think positively. Maybe you could even learn something from these two nerds.
You stretched your arms up, relaxing your muscles and letting out a soft groan before standing up from your chair and putting your things back in your bag. Dazai did too, and after you two had gathered your things, you left the classroom.
You don't know Fyodor at all. Other than knowing he's fighting for the Top Student position with Dazai and that he has two friends— everything else about him is an enigma.
You can't deny you were at least a bit excited about seeing him perform his chess tactics. Despite your lack of knowledge about the game.
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♱ ˚₊‧⁺˖
After walking along with Dazai for a while, going upstairs to the last floor of the building, where there were empty classrooms reserved for club activities, you stand in front of the chess club door. The hallway was quite empty, and not a lot of people chose to participate in clubs these days— You knew these rooms were mostly for other activities that went from occultism to having sex. However the latter doesn't happen anymore since cameras were installed. You're thankful for that.
“Don't be scared of Fyodor. He won't bite as long as I'm here.” Dazai laughs softly as he opens the door of the room. His words only make you frown at him.
The room was quite spacious and there were a few other students playing chess too. There was a nice silence around. The only noise is the chess pieces being placed on the chessboard with each turn.
“You're late as always, Dazai.”
Your attention is drawn to Fyodor, who's sitting with his arms and legs crossed, one above the other; a stoic expression on his face.
He was wearing a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, his coat was hanging on the back of his chair, his hair was tucked behind his ear and you noticed that he had a silver necklace with a cross.
Your fingers twitch slightly and your heart beats a little faster.
Ah, he is prettier up close.
What? No.
You didn't realize that you were staring at him for so long until his dark purple eyes went to your face and he raised an eyebrow.
Fyodor eyed you up and down as if you were a piece of meat for him to enjoy. The way your body tenses under his gaze; hands sneaking behind your back, lips pressing together, eyes trying to look anywhere but his. All of it gives him the hint that you'll be a nice prey.
“Oh? You brought a guest I see.” Fyodor smiles at you briefly, kindly, before looking back at Dazai who was placing his bag on the floor and sitting in front of him. He was very calm though he was facing another smart man such as him.
“She's my lucky charm.” He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes, unamused. You sat in front of the small square table, arms crossed, ready to watch the development of this game.
“Shall we begin, then, Dazai?”
“Of course.” Dazai giggles, wasting no time grabbing a white piece and making his move. “Seems like I have the upper hand today.”
Fyodor smirks, his slim fingers moving so delicately as he takes his turn.
Both of them seemed very relaxed as they played. Discussing random topics, and speaking with difficult words made it a little hard for you to understand their conversation.
But the tension was slowly starting to build up— Each turn was beginning to take more than a couple of seconds. They were taking their time before making any movements, and the smiles on both of the men's faces were starting to disappear as they went silent.
You, on the other hand, were almost falling asleep like back in class. What was the point of watching them play if you didn't understand how the game goes? Plus, they were in complete silence, how was this supposed to help you learn more about their stupid smart brains?
Ah, might as well take a little nap then.
“Shit.”
Dazai groaned in annoyance as his phone suddenly vibrated, distracting him from the game. After seeing who was calling, he stood up from the chair and walked out of the room without even excusing himself.
Your eyes followed Dazai as he left the room, lips parted in confusion.
Great, now you were left alone with Dostoevsky— Well… almost. There were other people playing chess in the room too but they were minding their own business.
Fyodor sighs, looking down at the chessboard before looking at you and tilting his head to the side.
Of course, he was going to take advantage now that the two of you were alone. He was eyeing his little prey and hopefully, he could get a pretty reaction if he pushed the right buttons.
God, forgive him for being so greedy.
“Do you want to play?”
You look in his direction, blinking a few times in confusion.
Telling him that you don't know how to play was going to be embarrassing as hell. He was going to make fun of you, probably. But, you didn't know that he could read you like a book. So Fyodor already noticed that you didn't understand the rules of chess.
You press your lips together, avoiding his penetrating gaze that makes something inside you tingle.
“I'll teach you, just pay attention because I'm not going to repeat myself.”
You nod, giving him a shy smile before taking Dazai's seat while begging internally for him to come back. Was that call so damn important?
“Move Knight to e6.”
“Sorry— what?”
Fyodor raises an eyebrow, waiting for your move. Like he said, he won't be telling you the same thing twice.
Looking down at the chessboard, you try to identify who's the “Knight”— Which wasn't so difficult, but now you have to move it somewhere you don't know.
When your eyes move from the board to him, you can see he's smiling. Oh, god. You hope Fyodor doesn't notice the way your cheeks heat up under his gaze.
But he did.
As if reading your mind again. Fyodor stands up from his seat and walks behind you; One hand on the back of your chair and the other pointing at a square from the chessboard. Dark locks of hair tickle your cheeks, a faint scent of coffee emanating from him. Would his lips taste like coffee too?
You press your thighs together, lowering your head down a little as his chest grazes against your back slightly; you can't help but feel smaller against him.
“…Now, did you understand?”
His smooth voice rings against your ear; low as if he was telling you a secret. Hell. You could even feel his lips brushing against the helix of your ear.
“I—”
You're interrupted before you can speak.
“Well, seems like we need to continue this game for later, Dos—”
Dazai stops in front of you with his phone in hand. His eyes opened wide and his lips parted in surprise.
“You two are getting along I see.” He snorts, grabbing his bag from the floor. “I’m leaving though, have fun. See you tomorrow, Dostoyevsky.” And with that, Dazai walks out the door again.
You panic.
You can't be alone with Dostoyevsky again after knowing how nervous you get with him close; how you look at him with a dumb expression after he speaks because you're too focused on his pretty features.
Fuck. No, what are you thinking about? He's not that handsome.
Fyodor is a smart man, he's probably just teasing you with light touches to rail you up and make fun of you later for being so easy. There's no way you're going to let this man play with your mind as if it is his toy.
“Wait! Osamu!” You quickly leave the chair, grabbing your bag as well and leaving behind Dazai.
For a small second you turn around. Fyodor's eyes met with yours; he was smiling again. Your eyes widened and you swore you could read his lips saying “Goodbye, my dear.”
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♱ ˚₊‧⁺˖
It's been a few days since you last interacted with Fyodor. And, since that first and —hopefully— last encounter, you were trying to avoid him.
You don't want to fall deeper into him.
After Dazai saw you two being very close, he kept messing with you about it.
“You two would make a great combination. The not-so-smart introvert girl and the top student intimidating Dostoyevsky… top student after me of course.”
“Why do you blush every single time he speaks? Do you think his voice is hot or something?”
“I saw you staring at Dostoyevsky in class today, are you sure you don't like him, hm?”
What a nuisance.
Of course, you didn't like him. You were trying to avoid him at all costs. Doesn't that make your dislike for him much more obvious?
In fact, you were sure you hated him.
Each time he spoke in class he always answered right with that unamused expression and with that egocentric tone that makes you roll your eyes.
There was no way you could fall for someone like him.
You sigh, currently walking down the hallway to the library, hoping to find some rest and silence from the noisy students and from your stupid brain that had been thinking about Dostoyevsky these last days.
The library had an old tone to it; yellowish lights and dark brown old shelves that went from the floor to the ceiling. Two floors full of books from all the subjects any student could find for their projects or to pass the time.
Even if it was full of people, the silence was almost absolute if it wasn't for a few people whispering and giggling. Still, it was a very peaceful place. Sometimes you wish you could stay here forever.
Since you know the place very well, you went straight to your favorite spot in the enormous library— It was under a stair, where there was an old dark green couch that was kind of comfy, enough to spend more than a few hours reading on it.
You remember leaving a book yesterday on the couch, after all, nobody went there; it was after walking through a long-ass corridor and after a few turns. Who would explore this big library completely like you did? No one, of course.
Well… You were wrong.
“What the fuck?”
“Hm? What a wonderful surprise…”
Seriously?
You cross your arms in front of your chest while looking down at Fyodor who was sitting on the couch with your book in his hands. You were trying to avoid him and he was the one that came to you. Funny.
Fyodor closed the book, placing it to the side before leaning back with his legs spread and his arms crossed as well.
“Nice book. You have good taste, sweetheart.”
The hell with this—
You turn around ready to leave, but he quickly grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him until you are standing in between his legs. His dark eyes look up at you.
“Why are you avoiding me? I'm not stupid, I see everything, you know?”
He loosens his grip on your wrist, his thumb caressing the back of your hand slowly. From this close, you can see his dark circles and his pale skin. Damn, he looks like a vampire…
“It's none of your business.” You frown, pushing his hand away.
“Do I make you so nervous, hm?”
Fyodor grins, leaning back once more. His smug expression only makes you more mad and you're beginning to wonder if he's doing it on purpose to get a kick out of this like last time.
He can't deny that he's enjoying it; You're so easy to get riled up that it's almost boring. Though your pretty pouty face is worth it.
“Shut up. You're in my seat. Leave.” You tried to keep a stern voice but Fyodor didn't budge from his seat.
“I'm not moving. If you want to sit on this couch so badly, might as well sit on my lap.” He pats his thigh, giving you a smirk.
Fuckfuckfuck.
He was playing with you again, probably laughing internally too— thinking you're just a stupid silly girl who can fall so easily into his trap.
He was using you as his entertaining resource.
Fine. You might as well play along.
With a hum, you flop on his lap, getting comfortable and leaning your back against his chest to which Fyodor immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Such an obedient girl.”
You squirm on his lap, feeling how butterflies flutter inside your tummy. While trying to mask your sudden arousal, you reached for the book you wanted to read and opened it to where you left it before. While doing so, Fyodor's large fingers start kneading on your waist, slowly, as if he was savoring the feeling of your body against his palms.
“Are you enjoying your reading?”
You nod. The truth is that you can't even read with his hands exploring your waist and his pretty voice against your ear. You're only looking at empty words in the book, your mind not paying attention to the sentences or paragraphs.
Fyodor's hand brushed against your neck, and the coldness of it made you flinch. He pushed your hair aside, exposing your neck to him.
“Why don't you read for me out loud?”
“Why should I?” You shrug, completely leaning against his body again, trying to suffocate him or something— though it seems like having the contrary effect as his hands pull your hips to him.
“I want to know if you're focused on your little book or me.”
Cocky bastard.
You clear your throat to begin with your reading, but as soon as you open your mouth, his lips brush against the skin of your neck, leaving a small peck.
“Go on. I'm waiting, dear.”
Then, he presses another peck, waiting a few seconds before doing the same.
God. You can't react in this situation. Your body squirms with each touch or whisper. Your thighs pressed together and you look down at the book, trying to focus on the words but it's impossible.
“Ah—”
You whine, feeling his tongue teasing the crook of your neck before sucking on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist again, caging you against him.
The air was starting to get heavy and you had already forgotten that you were in a public library; your mind getting foggy with the thought of what was going to happen eventually.
As he pulls away, kissing the new hickey he left, one hand wanders down to your thigh, squeezing it.
“You know you can leave if you don't want this, right?” You didn't answer, not wanting to fulfill his egocentric wishes.
“Hey, I'm talking to you.”
A hand slides to your neck, pressing a little, as he leans closer to your ear. He thrusts up while keeping your hips against his, trying to “fix” his position.
Ah, but you can feel his hardness against your ass.
“It seems like you're too shy to speak, so, let's do this; If you want to leave, just push my hands away from your body and I'll set you free…”
He chuckles, placing another peck on your neck.
“But if you don't want to leave… Spread those thighs for me, dearest.”
How humiliating; Your body was reacting on its own, and you spread your thighs for him. Without wasting any time, the hand that was on your hip slides inside your pants, lithe fingers finding the wet spot on your panties.
“Huh, how naughty.” You can hear him chuckling behind you.
You barely close your thighs again, feeling shy as his fingertips tease up and down your covered pussy, emanating soft moans from you. With your lips parted, he slid two fingers inside your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Suck on them and don't be loud, honey.” He whispers, kissing the back of your neck soothingly to distract you from the advance of his other two fingers over your pussy.
Pushing your panties aside, he groans at the wet and warm feeling. Coating his fingers with your arousal first before slowly inserting a finger. Fyodor rolls his eyes at the sensation— you were squeezing him so tight that he almost felt pity for your cunt; If you were already squeezing his finger so much, how would it be when he's balls deep inside you.
Saliva slips from your lips down your chin as you keep sucking on his other fingers that are keeping your mouth entertained. Trying your best not to moan out loud when his finger that was over your pussy began sliding in and out, reaching that sweet spot of yours with each thrust.
“I'm going to add another finger, pretty. Keep being good for me..”
Another groan leaves Fyodor's lips when you squeeze his finger at his praise. Oh, well, he was going to make sure to praise you lots then.
As his middle finger makes its way inside you and you whine at the stretching, his whole hand clads your mouth, not letting any noise escape from you.
“Fuck… Do you want someone to catch us?”
You shake your head from side to side, picturing how humiliating it would be if someone finds you sitting on Fyodor's lap and moaning because of his skilled fingers that reach where yours can't.
When his two fingers start moving, you're already in heaven. Grinding your hips and spreading your thighs further to give him space to go knuckles deep.
“Is my sweet angel going to cum on my fingers? Do it, dear, be a good girl for me.” Fyodor moans against your ear, slightly grinding his hips against yours as you approach your climax.
Your thighs close and you let out a muffled whimper as you come all over his fingers, walls clamping down on him as he presses his hand harder against your mouth, whispering sweet praises before sliding his sticky fingers out of your cunt and taking his hand off your mouth to let you breathe.
Fyodor is nice enough to push your panties back in place before removing his hand from your pants. His sticky fingertips tap your lower tip a few times so you can open up and lick them clean.
“Good girl…”
He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, caressing your cheek, and you take the opportunity to turn around and fall to your knees in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs. You might as well worship him like he did with you.
He was nice to you, so why not be nice to him as well? After all, you were eager to see what's underneath his intimidating façade.
“Ah— Right now it might not be the moment, dear.”
You frown, resting your cheek against his thigh.
“My apologies, but this place is quite risky, you already made a lot of noise and people might be wondering,” Fyodor smirks before leaning down to kiss the crown of your head as he removes his silver necklace to place it on your neck instead.
“We'll continue this another day, I promise.” He tilts your chin up, leaning in and kissing you slowly, slipping his tongue past your lips and groaning against your mouth while his hand squeezes your cheeks together, not letting you pull away before he's done with you.
So he does taste like coffee.
Fyodor withdraws, leaving one last peck on your lips before completely pulling away.
“Goodbye, my dear.”
Giving you one last soft smile, he stands up and walks away, leaving you sitting on the floor with red cheeks and heavy breathing.
You look down at the cross hanging from his necklace. Now resting on your chest.
God, you want to taste his lips again.
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© 2024 pinklacydovey
438 notes · View notes
bangchansgirlsblog · 3 months
Note
Ive been imagining this and ik its weird BUT ot8 skz being perv and so obsessed to fem 9th member.. Like they get super jealous and the fem readed being a people pleaser like she cant say no to her friends and cant stand seeing them sad so when the members started to became sexually touchy w her they used that against her and be like "dont u want to see us happy? We've been tired and we just want to relieve some stress.. I thought u can help us.. I guess not" and they pretend to be sad abt it and the reader just felt guilty for not helping her friends so she lets them touch her which led to smut KDNDJFKDJ its weird but idk i die for these kinds of fics
Hands on me?
Warning: Angst, sexual activity, manipulation?
Pairing: polyOT8 x reader.
Summary: Don’t you wanna see us happy baby? They said as they slowly peeled her clothes off.
AUTHORS NOTE: this has been in my requests for a while and I write this when I first started off SO it’s not good at all BUT I’m going to write another one using this same request cause I have another idea AND this was in my drafts for a while so I’m dropping it to clear it.
I hope whoever requested this, enjoys it 🥰
**
"Baby?!" She heard someone call for her from the living room. 
"I'm in here!" She replied. Her hair was up in a pony tail and she was currently wearing shorts and a croptop with no bra on making her look yummy.
She heard a bunch of voices start piling up in the living room meaning that the boys were back home.
A small smile creeped up on her face as she continued to wash up the dishes she had used to cook dinner. She made a big dinner because at the end of the day she was feeding 8 of her boyfriends who were also MEN. 
"Hey love," Han walked into the kitchen. His hair was in a hat and he had his normal hoodie and cargo pants on. "Are you feelings better?" He asked while taking a few steps towards her until he towering her. His breathing was heavy probably from the flight of stairs.
"Mmm, yeah. Just been a long day that's all." She sighed and looked up at him. He had a pout on his face making her coo at how adorable the boy was.
"I missed you," he said in between kisses. 
"Missed you too momo," he rested his head on her shoulder she continued to finish the dishes.Han was always clingy, not more than Felix but it was more than the other boys, that was for sure.
As she finished up she felt His hands slowly wondering around her body then slowly landing on her ass. oh, makes sense. He was horny.
She did love every interaction with her boys, she really did but today she wasn't in the mood at all. She was tired and she had a horrible headache from work. having sex was not on her to-do list but a nap was.
"Do you want me to take care of you?" He whispered in her ear causing shivers to run down her spine. She was sad because she was going to turn him down and she knew how stressed all the boys were, he just wanted have fun.
"Maybe not right now momo, I'm not in the mood," She told him while finishing the last of the dishes and drying her hands. He pouts and lets out a small whimper.
"Have you eaten yet?" She asked him changing the subject.
"Not yet no," he frowned.
"Okay then sit, let me call the other guys to come eat too," She encourage him, "and don't forget to put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket," She tiptoed and gave him a quick kiss before going to the living room to find only Changbin sat while scrolling through his phone.
He was wearing all black and he had his glasses on. His hair was fluffy and curly meaning today he was in the studio all day.
"Binnie?" She walked and sat by him, "what are you doing?"
"Hey baby," he kisses her temple and then her lips, "I was just lacing up my shoes, what about you? How was your day?"
"I'm tired that's all," she pouted, "and my period is coming soon so I'm breaking out!" she exclaimed and crossed her arms causing him to chuckle.
"I mean atleast you look nice," he dropped his shoe and pulled her close to his body, "you look beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, amazing-"
"Okay, okay I get the point," she roll my eyes playfully.
"Hey? Am I not allowed to praise my beautiful girlfriend?" He playfully frowns.
"You are I geuss," she giggled and he couldnt help but pull her onto his lap.
"Then let me praise you huh?" He kisses her cheek and slowly starts moving down her neck. A small moan leaves her mouth.
"B-Binnie, I'm not in the mood, please," she told him.
"Why not? You're always in the mood," he looks confused.
"Not today, just come have lunch yeah?" she give him a peck on the lips and got off him so he could stand up.
"Fine," he huffs. He makes his way to the dining area as she depart6ed and headed to Felix's room
"Felix?" she called while knocking on his door.
"It's open!"
"Hey sunshine, dinner is ready-"
"Hey! no kisses? No hugs?" He frowned and turned around from his desk.
"Oh-" she giggled when she realized and then walked over to him, "Hey lix," she repeated and  gave him a kiss as he automatically pulled her on his lap.
"How's my baby doing?" He asked as his hands wrapped around her waist and he cuddled her body.
"Mm just tired," she sighed.
"Oh my poor baby, should we watch a movie later?" He was craving her. he wanted to spend more time with her because he felt like he had spent so much time with the boys that he was neglecting her.
"Yeah that would be nice but first go get lunch," she forced herself out of his grip but he let out a soft whine due to the lack of touch and well...the bulge that was now very visible through his pants.
"Look what you've done to me," he whined again causing her to laugh at his distraught state.
"Oh oh, you better fix that before you go down,"
"Help me please!" He frowned.
"I'm not in the mood Felix, please."
"Come on pleaseee, it's been a long day. Don't you want to see me happy?"
His eyes were shiny and hungry, it was obvious.
"Fine after dinner," she lied to him so he could get up and he actually believed it.
"Okay okay, I'm running there now!"
He got up from his sit and rushed out the room.
She followed behind him and checked the dining room to see everyone now sitting down including Chan, I.N, Seungmin and leeknow.
She went around to give them quick kisses before returning to her room and changed into just a  huge shirt (that was probably for one of the boys) and underwear.
She turned off all her room lights and entered bed now being able to have a peaceful sleep. A nice, nice qui-
She felt the bed dip and hands wrap around her body. Her eyes open quickly and she saw familiar hands. Chan.
"Channie?"
"Hey babe, I wanted to cuddles," he pouted.
"Fine but no disturbing my sleep," she scolded him and turned so it was easier for him to wrap his arms around her waist.
Her eyes slowly closed once again and she finally thought she was to get some sleep until the door swung wide open and closed quickly, two more people walking in and making themselves comfortable in her bed. Han and I.N. At this point she was so used to it that she just let them stay as they both argued on who was sleeping where.
"Guys if you're going to be in here, you have to be quiet and sleep," She told all of them off. Even if she was getting a little frustrated she scooted up a little so they could all enter the bed.
Not even a few minutes later all the boys were now in her room on her bed piling onto one another under her fluffy blankets. She knew exactly what they wanted when she felt one of their hands massaging her leg.
She let out a sigh, "Such horny dogs!" she groaned.
"Common baby, it's been a long day. Don't you care about us?" Hyunjin teased her in a manipulative manner.
"Just a little fun. Come on please," Han rubbed her leg once more back and forth causing shivered to run down her spine.
"You look good too," Felix complimented her while tugging at her bra strap, "really good." They were basically already peeling her clothes off with their cold ass hands.
She let out a sigh and finally gave in, "F-fine I geuss so," her eyes wonder to Chan who gives her an assuring nod.
//please idk how to write a smut but just imagine the nastiest thing ever happens//
When they were done and the boys were satisfied as Y/n sat on the bed. Her heart was racing from all the action but she was in her own space. Spaced out.
The constant thoughts of the boys using her for their sexual desires made her enter a depressive episode. Yes she enjoyed the sex and the attention but so many emotions were running through her tiny body that she couldn't handle it anymore.
She felt used like a sex toy and the tears in her eyes slowly started to build as she started to breath rapidly. The air in the room getting suddenly thick. Seungmin was in the bathroom running her bath for her after care. The sound of the water falling was the only sort of noise she could hear.
She held her knees against her chest as she tried to calm down. Han's hand wrapped around her waist. As he kissed her temple. "you did so good for us, you know that right babygirl?" he praised but she didnt even notice him in the first place. Her eyes were hazy and completely black and when Han noticed, he gave chan a look. 
"Hey, are you with us?" Chan asked immediately as he pulled up his sweatpants. "Y/n?"
No response.
She was staring at the wall right in-front of her. She felt unloved. She felt tired. She was in pain.
The boys (some of them were still dressing up) all turned to look at her. Her body was still bare and the bruises on her arms were visible.
"Is she going into a trance?" I.N asked panicked. "Chan do something, please,"
"Hey Y/n? Babygirl? It me. Can you hear me?" He walked over to her and grabbed her tiny hands.
"C-channie?" She chocked as She looked up at him. The tears slowly starting to fall.
"Yes my love, it's me. Can you tell me where you are?"
"I'm alone, I'm all alone," she sobbed. "Why am I like this? Why am I so disgusting?" She cried.
"What do you mean Y/n?" He asked shocked.
"I-I want Binnie, I want Binnie now," she said reaching out for him. Changbin did not hesitate. He was right by her side pulling her onto his lap. The rest of the boys understanding what was going on and quickly taking action.
"I'm here princesses, tell me what's wrong," he had no shirt on and the skin to skin was slowly giving her comfort as his body heat was radiating warmth.
"I-do you love me?" She asked. The panic in her voice was clear. She was soon going to get a panic attack. it was building up.
"Ofcourse I love you babydoll, why would you think otherwise?" He questioned while kissing her forehead.
"i- i dont know, please dont be mad at me," She sobbed in his chest. The view was heartbreaking and the boys knew that if they didnt find a way to cheer her up soon it would end up into a full blown panic attack.
"I'm going to make some brownies for her," Felix said because he knew this was the only way he could comfort her on his part. He quickly leaves the room after hesitating for a bit not wanting to leave her.
"I- are you guys using me? For sex?" She cried harder. Her hands held Changbins chest as She struggled to breathe. Their faces were in absolute shock. was this what they made her think? was this all she thought she was to them? 
"Ofcourse not," leeknow knelt down infront of her. He slowly rubbed her thigh. "Jagi, you need to breathe. Can you do that for me?" He asked her. Her body was shaking still. she tried to gasp for air but failed. 
"Listen to me beuatiful, you need to breathe like me....see," he took a deep breathe to demonstrate to her but it was no use. 
"i- i cant breathe," she gasped and let go of changbin to grab her neck. it felt like it was closing up. Her vision was blurry now and the lack of oxygen was getting to her. 
"C-chan?" she gasped as she slowly she started to pass out. Her body giving up on her due to the many emotions.
"come on baby, stay with me," she heard in the distance.
"Guys! call 119,"
***
This is just a fic no one come for me 😔
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stinkysam · 28 days
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Lucifer Morningstar - Wrong impression.
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Warning : none
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : “May I request Hazbin Lucifer x Gojo! Gn reader? Strongest vs the strongest energy” - anon
Reader : you / yours
A/N : probably didn't go the route you wanted… but I'm not that good with character!reader. Hope you still like it !
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When meeting you, Lucifer was quite nervous. You were one of the strongest overlord of hell and had made your way up very quickly after your arrival down here. Upon shaking your hand, beads of sweat glided down his forehead.
What kind of business did you have with his daughter ? Why were you here ? He wondered, eyeing Charlie quickly.
His smile was a big toothy one but you could tell he wasn't very comfortable, he even wiped his hand on his coat after shaking yours. Subconsciously.
You weren't necessarily imposing or intimidating -though you were really good looking- so he had no reason to be nervous. You were even warm and welcoming toward him. And quite charming. Yet there was something else about you he couldn't put his finger on.
And you don't become an overlord by just being kind and goofy. You had to be powerful and dangerous. But who said you couldn't be all that ?
He expected it to be a ruse to manipulate his daughter and him. So with squinted eyes he watched your every move to find the moment you would drop the act.
But it never happened. Maybe it was because he had so much on his plate ? Trying to form a bond with his daughter, keeping an eye out for Alastor and another one for you.
But your warm smile seemed genuine and you never once put yourself between him and Charlie like Alastor had done, claiming she could almost call him “dad” in their song.
You seemed to be close with Charlie's friends as well and they didn't seem to be worried about themselves with you being an overlord. You even seemed like a close friend of theirs. And the feeling was apparently reciprocated.
With a frown, Lucifer decided to give you a chance, waiting for you to slip up and show your true intentions, but it never happened. Until the fight against Adam with his exorcists.
Like him you had arrived late and like him again you had shown arrogance and confidence as you fought the angels. You killed them without mercy and easily and it even looked like you were finding it… boring ?
They were too weak for you and you knew it. It was easy to protect the cannibals and Charlie's friends.
You clearly wanted to have a go with Adam but let Lucifer handle it, you knew he could stand against him after all.
And he did.
Charlie had to stop him from landing the finishing blow and you wondered if you would have listened. If Lucifer had listened then maybe you would have too.
But Nifty didn't seem to have the same moral compass as you or Lucifer as she stabbed Adam to his death. Several times. While laughing.
The fight was over, very few exorcists remained and Lute flew away with them and Adam's halo. You helped rebuild the hotel with a nice song to motivate you and your friends and especially Charlie who felt down after all the bloodshed.
But before you could leave to go back to your quarters, Lucifer came to you, rather nervously. You turned to him, and stared.
“Er… You're not so bad, finally.” Lucifer said, fiddling with his bow-tie before extending his hand out.
“You thought I was bad ?” You raise an eyebrow, amused and shake his hand. This time he doesn't wipe it on his coat.
“The whole overlord title doesn't really go in favor of being… good.”
“Neither does the title of King of Hell. And yet, here you are !” You smiled, nudging him lightly with your elbow and he chuckled at your remark.
“Yes. I guess so.” Lucifer smiled and looked up at you. “Thank you for being here for my daughter. I mean it.”
You only grinned proudly, planting your hands in your pockets after patting his shoulder.
“Oh well, she's worth it.”
Lucifer returned your smile, happy to see Charlie had a powerful friend like you beside her. Not like that radio demon who seemed more than sketchy. Maybe he could count on you to watch that demon and stop him from harming his precious daughter.
And maybe even he could see you as a friend.
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targaryenluvs · 1 month
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MAKE YOU STAY / EDDIE DIAZ
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PAIRING: Dark!Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Your attempt to leave Eddie won’t work, because he won’t let them, or you.
WARNINGS: Obsession, guilt trip, jealousy, possessiveness, sexual content, manipulation gaslighting & entrapment.
WORDCOUNT: 2.3K Words
A/N: Happy season 7 launch!! I got inspired slightly by @megalony and her new Dark Evan series go check it out!!
Gif not mine, credits to the owner!
Life with Eddie use to be everything you could ever dream of. Whether it be slow mornings getting ready together, sharing a shower and helping Chris get ready. Or an absolute hurricane ripping through your home whilst the three of you stumble over each other to get ready after a sleep in.
No matter the time of day, you loved whatever you were doing, as long as they were by your side.
And Eddie’s protectiveness use to be just another aspect of your relationship you loved, until you opened your eyes.
It use to be small, his anger.
An incessant colleague reaching out for tips and aid in a new project, you being a senior member meaning it wasn’t uncommon for people to reach out to you. You were one of the best workers at the company, well respected and loved as well as brilliant. And always willing to help someone in need.
He use to love that about you. Until it followed you home.
Chris was currently at a friends house, leaving the two of you to an inside date night, “Now on what planet would I ever sit and watch four movies with the title ‘Die Hard’. You sure as hell can’t die that many times.” Eddie shook his head as you refilled each of your respective glasses.
“Sure you can, just ask Chimney.” You gasped before swatting Eddies arm, “Be nice! And put on our show.” The murmuring voices of your favourite characters was more than enough to lull you into his arms, content washing over you. Your ringing phone however, was ready to disturb the peace Eddie had longed for all day.
“Let me just grab this.” His hand scooped your phone up before you could, “Just get it later.” His dismissive tone made you frown, “Give me my phone, please.” You leaned over to snatch it, walking into the hallway. Eddie couldn’t help but massage his temple, did you seriously chose a phone call over peace and quiet in his arms?
He hadn’t noticed how often you picked up your phone, until it interrupted him. It happened often. When the two of you were cooking together, soft music and ambience long forgotten. Almost falling asleep, cuddling, and out of the blue the world was falling apart without you. Eddie thought he could handle it, you were needed, that wasn’t your fault, right? But what he also couldn’t handle was the secretive nature.
Why did you always walk away? Were you hiding something?
And now you were coming home later, clanging into the house at 11, or 12. Sometimes even later. “Where were you?” Eddie stood by the door as you hung your jacket, “Jesus, you scared me E.” His arms were crossed, shoulders tense as you made your way to him, a smile too wide for his liking. “Work ran late, m’ sorry.” As you walked away, his hand caught onto your wrist.
“Ow, let go.” Eddies grip loosened as you retracted your arm, soothing it, “What is your problem?” You looked up to view a sweet smile, “Nothing, just worried about you. When you didn’t call, I got so scared. This world, it’s scary Y/n, you know that, especially during these times.”
Your eyes watered involuntarily at his saddened demeanour, “Oh Eddie, I’m so sorry, I should’ve called. That’s my fault, forgive me?” Your arms came around his neck, before trailing down to his chest, playing with his name tag. “I forgive you, I can also think of a way you can make it up to me.”
His smile was mischievous, and intentions impure. “Oh? And what would that be Mr Diaz?” His hand was heavy on your back and slithering lower by the second, “I think we have an appointment with a bed tonight.”
“I have work tomorrow, so do you.”
“Cmon, for me?” His eyes were pure evil, and you were more than happy to give in, even if you were tired. Really damn tired, but he wanted you, so you should give in right? You did give him a fright. “Take me away Diaz.”
If you’d noticed the signs earlier, maybe you could’ve gotten away. His jealousy, when it did rear its head, was an ugly shade of green.
A late night, again.
Eddie had been by the door for 10, sitting for 20, pacing the kitchen and stress-eating for another 10 before he finally settled into bed. Wide awake of course. The opening of his bedroom door caused him to stir. He watched as you slowly moved around, placing your stuff away, putting your phone on charge and then changing.
He sat upright as you yelped, “Eddie! You scared me, again! Why are you sitting in the dark?” His face was drained of warmth, skin cold to the touch. “Was waiting for you, again.” You frowned at his words, “Baby, you know I’m late these days. Better for you to go to sleep than wait up.” He shook his head, burying his head into your stomach as his body relaxed. Your hands raked through his hair gently, “I think you should consider working from home.”
Your hands stopped in their tracks, working from home? The last time you worked from home was during lockdown, and you’d driven yourself half mad. “Why is that?” Eddie glanced up at you, “You’re barely home, Chris misses you, I miss you. Don’t you want to be with us?” You took a deep breath in before smiling, “Of course I do. I- I’ll see what I can do baby.”
His hands quickly dragged you into bed, “Knew you’d understand amor.” Eddie rested his head in the crook of your neck, his hands slowly making their way underneath your shirt.
“Sweetie, I’m tried.”
“I missed you.” You relented, letting him continue. It seemed to be all you were doing these days, bending backwards and over to please him, literally.
The first time you noticed his behaviour was also when you realised you needed space. Not that he’d give it to you. A new coworker, Harry, had invited not only yourself, but your friend Aleya and Jack out to lunch.
He was a nice guy, very eager to learn and never scared by a little constructive criticism. The only problem was probably his overbearing cologne, very pungent? Intense?
You’d also been driven to work that day, courtesy of your boyfriend. You were working shorter days now, completing about an hour or two of work at home now. It had taken some adjusting, after a few forgetful days and about a million texts from Carla with an impatient Chris at home waiting for you.
You spotted Eddies truck pull up as you wrapped up your conversation with the your three lunch goers, “And that’s me, I’ll see you guys on Monday. Thank you so much for lunch!” You reached out to Aleya for a side hug, the same for Jack and a normal hug for Harry. “Tell Eddie there’ll be a fire at my house later tonight, and he better bring Evan!” Jack joked as you waved him off.
Jack may or may not have a huge crush on Evan.
You hopped in, quickly chucking your purse and files into the back seat before kissing Eddie on the cheek. “Hi! How was Chris’s school?” Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “Fine.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his shortness, “Something wrong?” He turned onto the highway, knuckles tightly gripping the wheel, “You smell like him.”
“Like who? Harry?”
“That his name?”
You rolled your eyes, “No, it’s actually his father’s, middle name Jesus. Care for some wine Eddie?” Not once, had Eddie ever been physical. But raising his voice? Oh that was fair game.
“You think you’re funny huh? Having lunch with other guys and taking the piss outta me?”
“Nothing happened baby, it was lunch. He’s new and trying to fit in and I’m being nice. There’s nothing to worry about I swear.” The silence permeated in the truck, causing the hair on your arms to raise. You hated the silent treatment wholeheartedly.
“Whatever.”
His change in demeanour could flip like a switch, you always assumed it was him putting up a front. But when Eddie showed up the next day, flowers in hand and looking his sharpest, you were forced to reevaluate. “God I wish my boyfriend was that sweet.” Your project partner whispered as you sighed, “That’s Eddie.”
Even your boss wanted you to go with him, “Take the day off sweetie, you deserve it.” And with a pat on the back and a million swooning interns drooling over Eddie, you were sent on your way.
“I got these for you Y/n/n.” Your favourite flowers, arranged perfectly and smelling divine. Your hands wrapped around the bouquet, “Thank you Eddie, they’re perfect.” His smile caused your heart to race, he looked amazing. The Eddie with you that day was incredible.
His infectious laughter, perfect smile and the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear. That, was the Eddie Diaz you knew and loved. A gentleman, who had eyes for only you. Which is why you couldn’t help but wonder, what made him change? How was it possible to go from absolutely furious and unnecessarily jealous to an angel?
You didn’t want to know, and you didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.
Maybe it was the date, or the fact that you felt as if he deserved an explanation face to face. Either way, if you’d known better, you would have made it away.
“Eddie, we have to talk.” The two of you were currently sitting on the couch, favourite show playing in the background. Eddie hummed along, a slight acknowledgment to your words. “It’s, about us.” Eddie turned the volume down, your sentence piquing his interest.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think, we should break up.”
And with six words, Eddies entire world came crashing down in front of him. What on earth were you talking about? “What did you say?” The smile on Eddies face was anything but sweet or reassuring, a bad attempt at keeping his composure. “You’ve been acting, odd, to say the least.” You stood from the couch as he followed in pursuit, all the way to the kitchen.
“I feel like, all that we’re doing lately is either fighting or sleeping. Every time I come home, you have something to say. Whether it’s about my later nights, about who I was with or what I’m doing on the phone. It’s like I have no privacy at all. I cannot keep a single thing to myself. And if I try to? You blow up at me. I mean last week for example, I tried my hardest to not argue with you by walking away. And all you did was follow me around the house, it drove me crazy. Showing up to my workspace when I tell you I can get more done without random lunch dates. I’m a grown adult but you treat me like a child. And if I stand up for myself I’m cheating. It makes no sense at all Eddie. And I tried to make it work, but I feel like you’re controlling me. I even reduced my hours, because you asked. I moved in even when I wasn’t ready, because you asked. I need a break.” You took a deep breath after your monologue, needing a second.
Turning towards Eddie, he stared straight at you. “I had no idea you felt that way baby. I’m so sorry, I never meant to do any of it. I love you so much, I can’t help but worry. After everything we’ve been through with Shannon,” And there it was, the guilt. It was blinding, clawing its way through you. Shannon. He’d already lost someone he loved, and Chris lost his mother. No wonder he was always to protective over you.
“Hey, I’m not leaving like Shannon okay? What happened was a tragic accident, and I promise nothing like that is going to happen again Eddie.” You immediately engulfed in a hug, his head resting against yours, “I don’t want to loose you, I don’t want Chris to loose you.” Eddie muttered repeatedly as you closed your eyes.
Chris walked into the room, thirsty, tired and curious, “Is something wrong?” You immediately detached yourself from Eddie, wiping away your tears, “Nothings wrong sweetie, did you need something?” He nodded before turning around and walking to his room, “We’ll talk later yeah?” Eddie whispered into your ear before moving ahead.
Sniffles came from underneath Christopher’s blanket, “You alright buddy?” Eddie asked, patting his hair down, “Water.” You watched as Eddie swiftly made his way to the kitchen whilst you sat down, “You need anything else?” Chris’s hand slowly lowered the blanket before smiling your way, “No thanks mum.”
And as quickly as he spoke, he turned over to sleep again. Your eyes were probably protruding out of your head, shock filling your senses. “Mum?” The word sounded foreign on your lips, but apparently comfortable enough on Chris’s.
“He called you mum.” Eddies voice was low, most likely as astounded as you based on the look on his face. You got up slowly, aware of the sleeping boy. You couldn’t help but smile, and kiss his forehead before making your way to Eddie. “I can’t believe it.” Eddies hand came up to wipe away the stray tears before pulling you in and kissing your forehead, “I can.”
“You’re apart of this family baby, always have been.” His words seeped in as he guided you to your bed, whilst you were stuck on autopilot. Chris viewed you as a parent to him, that’s how common you were in his life now, a constant for him to fall back on. He loved you, almost as much as you loved him. Your words weren’t forgotten just swirling in your head, how the hell could you ask for a break now? With this new huge responsibility?
Eddie knew, of course he knew. He was the one encouraging Chris to call you by your new name. Because if there’s one thing Eddie knew he needed, besides Chris?
It’s you, and he’d do anything to make you stay.
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writingmeraki · 7 months
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hazy eyes, clear thoughts I
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a roronoa zoro imagine !
synopsis : in which letting your drunken mouth spill your sober thoughts leads you to a very unexpected consequence. ( read: everyone saw it coming except you and **** )
pairing : opla!zoro x gn!reader, idiots to lovers!
genre : disgustingly fluffy fluff, five tablespoons of angst and probable romance.
warnings : cussing, mentions of alcohol and getting wasted, zoro kinda mean, probably terrible humour, shit ton of giggling, also very all over the place but kinda cute? not entirely proofread, also lmk if I forgot to add any other warning !
author's note : well oh well, look we have another totally not self indulgent zoro oneshot/drabble/imagine n e ways I hit a sort of weird point of the series, I'm stuck but i am like 87% done with ch 1?? i hope I'll be able to do it soon enough ^^ tysm for ur patience !! let me know what you think of this! also PART 2?!? ( I need to know if people wanna read this randomness further 😆😅🤣👍🏽)
word count : 4.8k
gif creds !
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 “Oh-kay! I think that’s enough!”
You frowned when Nami took the drink from your hand, whining in protest when she kept it further away which she knew your drunken self would be unable to reach.
“B-but it’s good, it’s making me happy!” You giggled as you pointed at yourself and then pouted, pulling your manipulative tactic, one you did a lot when you wanted something especially one you did when you were shit-face drunk. 
With large doey eyes, you pleaded at her, “You don’t want me to be sad right? I’ll be sad if you don’t give me- that.” You pointed in a direction you thought she placed the beer but of course, it was way off.
“See, you can’t even make out where I’ve placed the beer! I don’t care if it makes you upset and honestly, it was fun to see you make a fool out of yourself, but now it’s just…sad.” She sighed, a tone of sympathy as she finished her sentence,
“I know why you’re drinking and it’s not a good way to distract yourself from your feelings! Drinking worsens the problem!” She scolded you to which you now felt a small anger form within you.
“Well then, how else am I supposed to get rid of this dread and just stupidity huh? Being sober is a constant reminder!” 
“Your feelings aren’t stupid! You like him, I’d say even love! You can’t just assume your feelings are invalid not until you know how the other person feels!” Your best friend felt a rage you’d feel if you saw someone you care about demean their feelings, a sort of anger at them hidden with laces of sympathy.
“He doesn’t fucking care! He only cares about his promises and that’s…that’s his life, his own…way of living so it’s fine!”
“Feelings to him are just…distractions.” You gulped as you recalled the way he replied to Luffy when the Captain was teasing him about falling in love. 
[ a few moments ago ]
“Zoro, don’t you think you should consider finding a partner, don’t you also want to fall in love and experience all the magical things that come with it?” Luffy teased as you all sat around a barrel, deciding to just hang out after a busy day. 
Zoro had a beer in one hand as he took a sip and then rolled his eyes, you’d been seeing his reaction, undoubtedly your heart picking up its pace when you heard the question. 
“I don’t need love, or call it a partner if you will. I already have enough on my plate, all that so-called magical stuff is just a distraction.” He replied, with no hesitation which left no option but for the listeners to believe his words.
Just because he’d spoken his opinion, it didn’t mean it hurt less. You knew it though, from the start that Zoro was a determined individual. Despite having his own goals, he also cared about others like Luffy even though he didn't show it much, less that he said it verbally.
It was what made you like him in the first place. After all, what’s more, better than a man who knows what he wants, is determined to get what he wants, cares for those he considers his friends, and the bonus cherry on top being he was quite easy on the eyes too. 
A whole package indeed. 
And you didn’t even know when your supposed “I admire him as a person to look up to” turned into “Oh, I think I am in love with him.” 
But ah, that’s the beauty of love and all the magical stuff, isn’t it? You never know when you’ll be the one who finally falls into it.
That’s why, after hearing his words, you felt your heart sink just a little. Screw it, you think you felt it weigh a shit ton and sink to the very pit of your stomach. 
Nami, oh Nami, what a friend she was truly, because immediately her eyes darted to you after Zoro’s words and she saw your expression go down just as quickly as Zoro downed his bottle of beer. 
Luffy chuckled, of course, he would, the poor lad was just teasing in the first place anyway to irk Zoro and obviously, he didn’t know about poor old you’s feelings. 
I think I need to go. 
It sucked how you couldn’t refute against him. How you couldn’t yell that love is not just a “distraction”, love is something that makes one feel more…human. Love is a wonderful thing and how if someone were to experience it, it makes you feel….it makes you feel just happy at being in the presence of the one you, love. Just…love is not…it’s not-
“Uh guys,” You piped up after sensing the tense atmosphere, tense to you anyway since you felt like a seashell was clogged up your throat. 
“I’m gonna go…get some fresh air. Yeah uh- I’ll be behind if you need me.” You abruptly got up, smiling tightly at Luffy, purposefully avoiding Nami’s questioning yet pitiful look and harshly blatantly ignoring how Zoro’s attention turned towards you, about to question you too, his face showing the emotions he’d not show before 5 bottles of beer. 
Sighing quietly, you picked up the drink you’d been downing, still having an adequate portion in it and you thought about it, saying fuck it as you grabbed two more from the stack that was in the middle.
“Continue with…your shenanigans,” You turned around and let your emotions finally show on your face, words repeatedly swinging in your head as you tried to filter them out. 
It’s nothing but a distraction.
And now, a few bottles (2) and a whole lot of giggling later, you may have truly begun to take Zoro’s words seriously. 
“I feel sick, perhaps it’s my heart breaking, see it hurts here the most.” You groaned as you looked out into the sea, pointing to your chest, though inaccurate as you held your right side, the sun appearing as a blurry blight light due to your vision becoming hazier as you got more drunk.
Nami sighed at you, realizing you should probably just be made to go to bed, despite it being only a few hours away from actual nightfall.
“Come on, let’s go, you’ve thought enough,” She stood up, having been sitting beside you on a barrel while you’d been sitting on the same.
She pushed her hand outwards towards you, to which you giggled and you were pretty sure your cheeks ached now. 
“Namii~how do you have-” you pointed your finger out, counting the fingers “-ten fingers! On one hand?!” You continued staring at her hand in awe as she rolled her eyes, a small grin on her face, finding your drunken self a tiny bit cute. 
Suddenly you felt your world stumble as she grabbed you and pulled you upwards, you now decided you did not know how to walk and leaned your entire body weight on her. 
Now, Nami wasn’t a weak person but considering how you were more on the taller side than her while also being a bit more buff due to the immense training you did every day to practice your own skills, you did weigh more.
She quickly made you sit back down when she realized she couldn't possibly carry you, she needed help.
"Stay here 'kay? I'll be back." She told you to which you obediently nodded, which made a genuine grin form on her face.
Maybe she did prefer drunk you who'd follow her orders with no protests.
You looked back at the sea, the sun even lower than before, a type of golden shining on the blues that reminded you of a certain someone's earrings and oh, there it was.
Your thoughts slowly getting consumed by the moss head who despite drinking so much to forget was so embedded deep into your memory and probably heart at this point that even the slightest similarity you saw, be it colors or flowers, reminded you of him. 
Ah, that's love and all its magical stuff am I right? 
Sighing, she made her way back to where the rest of them were, the crew picking up on her presence,
"Where's Y/N? Weren't you bringing them?" 
"Well, for one they are SHIT face drunk, I don't think they are even conscious of where they are right now so I'll need to take them to bed but also, I can't carry them alone." 
She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of drowning yourself in your feelings, quite literally but she knew she wouldn't complain to the rest of them or more so she couldn't.
"Well I'm sure, one of us can help-"
"I'll help you carry them." Zoro interrupted your captain who was just about to suggest him. If there was one who could probably carry anything heavy too, it was him of course. 
Nami eyed him curiously, she did know he wasn't ready to do…kind deeds, not unless it helped him in some way. Though, she thinks, you may just be an exception.
He stood up and walked towards where you were, which was at the back, Nami followed suit to which he turned towards her.
"It's alright if you don't come, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to carry them myself." He said it and Nami narrowed her eyes, half out of suspicion and half out of spite after hearing the cocky undertone to his words. 
Proving that was one corner of his lips being turned upwards, forming an annoyingly handsome smirk that if you saw it, you'd probably be more on the brink of absolutely losing it.
"Take care of them and if they are hurt-" Zoro rolled his eyes at the over-exaggeration, and Nami knew that but as your best friend and a platonic soulmate at this point, she felt she had to say something. 
"I don't mean it that way, you know damn well what I mean." She told firmly, to which a slight confusion did flash in Zoro's eyes but he didn't make it obvious as he glared at her, ready to bicker.
"Nami!" Luckily, Luffy's timing seemed impeccable as he called her, to which she turned around, allowing no further talk.
Zoro just brushed off her words and moved to where you were.
Despite, Zoro admitting to never wanting a partner, it didn't mean though, that he didn't feel. 
He cared. He cared enough for Luffy to stick with him. He cared enough to fulfill a promise. 
And he cared for you too as he saw you sleeping soundly, laying your head on the ship, using your hands as a makeshift pillow. 
And yet, he somehow knew it was different. It was different from how he cared for others. 
He gulped as he moved closer, now being able to see your features being highlighted by the afterglow of the sun setting. 
It was as though you were the sun's favorite child at the moment, touching parts of your face softly, careful enough to not awaken you yet enough to rest on it to make it golden. 
The evening breeze couldn't have picked a better time to pass as strands of your hair messily moved, your face scrunching up in disturbance. 
He didn't even perceive how he'd reached you and was actually touching strands of your hair to push them back in place so as to not disturb your sleep. 
He wasn't even a gentle person, but he was using soft fingers with even softer touches to push them back. 
He figured he should in fact take you back to your bed, well shared bed with Nami. 
Deciding there was no need to wake you up, he moved beside you, putting one arm underneath your knees while the other looped just above your waist and below your chest. 
You blinked open your eyes when you felt yourself floating, it seemed like you were floating for a brief second, engulfed by warm clouds and a nice pillow that was-
You looked up and saw the side profile of someone. 
They seemed familiar. 
A glint of gold caught your eye as you put your left arm up and poked the earring, giggling as you saw it move.
"Wow, pretty," You think you'd seen it but your eyes being hazier than before after your mini nap seemed to only make your vision more blurry.
The sudden exhale and whisper down his neck almost made Zoro trip as he didn't really expect you to be up.
He was just near your shared room.
"Where are you taking me? Who are you?" You asked the important questions now, your mushed brain being able to form somewhat coherent thoughts. 
"You- you don't know who I am?" He asked you, confusion in his features and then remembering why you were lost. 
Right, practically wasted. And apparently memory loss due to being wasted.
He pushed the door open, as flimsy as it was, careful to not eventually break it down.
You looked around your surroundings, now even more lost as to where you actually were.
You squealed as he let you down, immediately realizing it was a terrible idea when you almost toppled over, unable to hold your own weight as he pushed his arm around your waist.
You held onto the man's shirt as you tried not to trip and fall.
"Here I'll just- I'll get you to bed." He guided you towards your bed, hand still wrapped around your waist as he looped yours over his neck. 
You plopped down with your eyes shut, your head began spinning when you almost tripped and you groaned in regret.
"Drinking too much was such a bad idea, like all my decisions lately." You put your hand on your forehead as you tried to rub the forming headache away. 
Hearing a walking sound, you peered your eyes open. Half-open anyways as you still couldn't make out well anything.
You could see the supposed stranger who'd help you till your bed was going to turn around and likely go but at that moment, you decided you didn't really want to be…alone.
Grabbing his hand before he moved away, you pulled him back with all your force. It didn't phase his movements much though other than him halting. 
Zoro turned back to you after deciding he should probably leave before he either said something he'd regret or worse, did something he'd regret. 
It wasn't his fault though with how…cute you looked as you plopped down, making him want to ki-
"Stay…please." You whispered to him, still holding onto his wrist as you blinked at him.
A familiar green color sat on top of his head but you figured it was a common color despite being sober you absolutely made fun of it when you could about how uncommon it was but also whined about how unfairly good it looked on him. 
The same him who looked at you in confusion and disbelief,
"You want me to stay, right now? With you?"
“Of course! I feel quite alone right now, maybe the company will make me feel better here.” You let go of his arm, the loss of your colder hand in contrast to his warm skin making him slightly frown. 
You pointed at your chest, surprisingly getting it right this time by pointing toward your left side.
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Does your chest hurt or something?” 
There was a slight concern in his tone, one which made you giggle. 
“Not- not physically silly, it’s- it’s my heart, it feels like it’s been gutted- wait no too- too gruesome, it feels like someone just punched it and it broke.” As you blubbered about your heartbroken state, your words made him more curious and concerned.
He decided he should probably hear you out, after all despite not being a great talker, he’d consider himself a decent listener. 
Grabbing the barrel you used as a chair placed under your makeshift desk, he moved to sit beside your bed. 
“It’s ridiculous. I should have known there was no chance, but it isn’t like you get a choice sometimes on how you should feel about someone, it just…happens.” You spoke softly, as Zoro turned his attention toward you, wondering who was this person who’d caused you to feel so…sad. 
He didn’t realize it but he felt a slow anger build up, one he excused as frustration due to your mumbling but not one out of simply, probably, jealousy.
Yes, he was jealous of….this person because it sure as hell seemed as though you were deeply in love to have been feeling like this. 
Ironic.
“Why do I even like him?” Oh, he definitely did not want to hear you talk about him, he decided.
Screw being a good listener, he was already in a crisis when Luffy put him on the spot asking about whether he’d want a lover or not, and then him trying his best not to divert his gaze towards you, so instead he chose an option ( one he’d regret later on ) and gave a seemingly believable answer. 
Maybe a while ago, he’d have stuck to that answer, and actually no, he was sticking to it, quite well too.
That was until you stumbled onto the crew or more like in true Luffy fashion, were persuaded enough to stay. 
At first, he didn’t care enough. It was more so he didn’t particularly like you too. You were what he was not. Careless, overly enthusiastic at times, and way too optimistic for your own good. You looked to see the good in everyone, believing that there was always some sort of goodness in everyone.
Zoro found that stupid, knowing how reality was always different. Everyone is and will always be selfish for their own greed. He was too, he wanted to fulfill his promise and that was it. 
That was his goal and nothing else really mattered to him.
It’s what he thought would remain the same till he accomplished it but a sudden diversion came in the form of well…you.
He didn’t even realize it but the annoyance he’d get when he heard your lame jokes turned into him looking away from your silly smile to try and hide his own forming grin.
How he’d always automatically be looking for you if they’d stop at an island, choosing to follow you and dismissing Nami’s suspicious glances by saying you’d likely do something stupid that might put everyone in danger if left alone.
It was funny what this could make anyone feel. He didn’t ever feel like this, he didn’t even want to admit he was close to feeling but how long could a person remain in denial?
He was in love with you. 
He couldn’t simply excuse his heart racing at your presence as simply annoyance, he couldn’t excuse finding pretty flowers and them reminding him of you as well….yeah you get the point. 
That revelation honestly made him spiral into a sort of existential crisis. 
So he decided it was best to do one thing.
Ignore it. Ignore everything and simply wait until it all fades away. 
But silly him, he didn’t know one thing about love and he assumed it was something that fades away, yet there it was, in his gaze as it softened and in his heart as it sunk slowly like an anchor. 
Clogging his throat as if he couldn’t simply breathe when you admitted to being in love with someone, someone who wasn’t him.
Ah love and its magical stuff, yet why does he feel like it's more of a curse right now? 
He opened his mouth, and closed it again, resembling a fish and it felt like he wanted to say everything yet nothing.
They probably don’t deserve you. 
The thought resonated in his head, but really who was he to say so because did someone like you even deserve him?
Turning to face him completely, ducking your hand under your head, you blinked at him slowly, a grin forming on your face as you saw the stranger’s hair.
“You…you remind me of him, your hair, it’s that ugly color.” You softly giggled to which Zoro was left in yet a contradiction of emotions, whether or not he should feel offended or light over the sound of your soft giggles. 
Wait. 
“Come closer, I’ll tell you a secret.” He blinked at you, trying not to show any emotions and wondering if you’d ever even talk to him like this sober.
Deciding to follow what you said, something he’d never do if you were sober, he leaned in, putting one arm as support to hold him due to the slightly uncomfortable position. 
“I- don’t laugh at me first of all, it’s ridiculous, Nami says I’m being too much of a coward not saying it upfront.” You looked at him to which he nodded, in your mind you presumed it was reassurance and agreeing to not find you ridiculous.
Somehow, despite you not knowing who was in front of you, your heart was picking up in pace and you felt a slight nervousness, actually, you almost felt like throwing up.
As if you were just about to actually…
“I think, actually no, I am definitely in love with Zoro.”
…confess to Zoro. 
Good thing, Zoro had quick reflexes because he felt his arm slip and if it weren’t for those quick reflexes, he’d have fallen face-first into the ground. He sat up straighter as if what he heard had physically burned him. 
“It sounds ridiculous, falling in love with someone like him but he’s actually a very loveable person, at least once he begins to get more…more comfortable around you. He talks less, shows emotions or any reactions even less, always carrying around a bitch face- Nami says so- but-but he also cares through his actions like-like that one time he found Luffy’s straw hat when he thought he lost- he spent hours helping him look for it and trying to keep Luffy from crying and then, then this other time he stayed up all night when I got hurt and wasn’t able to sleep. And-and there’s sooo many other times he’s done, the small things, he cares for that.”
“You know. I think that was when I knew I loved him.  When he didn’t need to stay up, yet he did to make sure I didn’t die or something.” You finished with a soft giggle as memories of that day flashed in front of your closed eyes. 
Suddenly he felt way warmer than the room was. 
“I know, I know you’ll…you’ll call me stupid for loving someone who’s already in fact rejected me, not-not to my face of course but indirectly I suppose.”
Wait, what?
Rejected you?
How could he do that when- when he didn’t-
“I hate this! I hate the way I feel, it- it’s making me feel pathetic.” Your words slurred as you whined, using your makeshift pillow to groan into.
“Who said love is magical? It’s pathetic! It makes you stupid enough to have stupid hopes that only make you fly high until suddenly the actual reality crashes you down hard.” You spoke somberly, your words slowly fading out as you gave into the alcohol-induced sleep.
“Love is…pathetic. But- but I love him. So much. I love…you.” The last word came out as a hush as you exhaled, shutting your eyes and letting go of the pillow as you finally got knocked out. 
It pained him to see you call yourself pathetic…all while being the reason you felt that way. 
Zoro was conflicted. The contradiction of emotions making him all do,
Nothing. 
He was frozen. He couldn't say a word, couldn't raise his hand to rub your back to perhaps comfort you. 
His mind was in more chaos, your words replaying like a loop. 
And finally, he came to a conclusion.
I need a drink. Fuck, maybe even three. 
Perhaps if you were awake, it’d be a different reaction. Perhaps if you weren’t drunk, you’d have not said it. 
The idea of you then getting over him, probably because you’d think he rejected you indirectly due to his words. This left a more bitter aftertaste in his mouth and mind than the beer he just downed.
He left your side, deciding he needed a breather to process what he’d just been told. He made sure you’d be in a comfortable position, placing your arms to your sides and even draped a sad excuse of a blanket, one that you brought yourself of an old woman when you had stopped at an island and one you loved, sad excuse because it was very thin but apparently you couldn’t sleep without it. 
He had turned back to you, one more time, about to say something but he just sighed and turned around, walking away to where he was now. 
Now, almost halfway through the crate of beers, he still couldn’t get rid of the confusion. 
Did- did you mean it?
It was conflicting because for one you said it under the influence, maybe you’d even meant someone else and just said his name by mistake. He hated that, so he chose to focus on you saying it solely for him. 
“Why-just why are you trying to die of alcohol poisoning? What is up with you idiots drinking like maniacs today?” A voice said in both disgust and concern as she walked up beside him, facing the sea, and then looking at him, the concern being evident as she saw the conflict of emotions on his face.
She knew he wasn’t one to speak up, it was rather his body language and eyes that spoke what he felt. 
He just sighed, taking a smaller sip of the drink, placing both arms on the side of the ship, and observing the waves.
Nami truly wondered what could have happened until she realized. 
“Did something happen with Y/N?” She cooly asked, observing his expression and surely enough a change of emotion was seen with the way he suddenly stiffened up.
“Nothing remarkable–”
“Oh cut the crap Zoro, you look like someone stole your fucking swords and threw them into the sea.” 
Now he turned towards her, a slight look of horror while he narrowed his eyes at her,
“That’s oddly specific.”
“Won’t deny anything. But, don’t change the topic.”
“They told’ you something?” She figured she should just straight up ask it, put it out in the blue, out of the bad.
Zoro contemplated whether he should spill it, feeling like maybe it would be invading your privacy but even if he didn’t want to admit it, he needed some sort of advice. 
“They- uh told me they lo- well see-” He shifted his attention back to the sea, finding it hard to say it to her face without giving away much. 
Technically you confessed but also you didn’t? You ranted about being in love with Zoro and how you wished you didn’t, you did that thinking you were spilling it to a stranger but it was the man himself so is that a confession? 
“So they finally did it?” He turned towards her raising his eyebrows in question, “They confessed?” 
Now he was surprised but how accurate she was, “ They are too coward- no offense- to do it while sober so ‘figured from the way you look like” She pointed towards his face with her finger “They either kissed you, which doesn’t seem evident from your face not being smothered with lipgloss, they confessed.” 
He gulped from his active imagination flashing a picture of you kissing him and how-
“But why are you so freaked out then? Shouldn’t you be happy your silly little crush is mutual?”
“It wasn’t a confession. More like a rant, they thought I was someone else and they basically spewed it all, and wait what do you mean mutual- I don’t uh-”
“Oh don't give that bullshit now. I know- in fact, even a blind person could see how in love you are with them.” 
Zoro didn’t know whether to get offended or embarrassed if it were really that obvious. He exhaled heavily, clearly not satisfied with the situation still. 
“What if they don’t even remember? What if they begin to ignore me because they think I don’t like them?” 
“Well you did say you weren’t looking for a partner or so on, did you forget that idiot?” Nami shook her head as she rolled her eyes at him.
“I-well- It wasn’t intentional! I panicked!”
“And now this is your consequence. Though there’s a simple solution to this crisis which isn’t a crisis actually, it’s pretty straightforward.”
Now he was curious, a way to solve this whole catastrophe? 
“Since you think they’ll forget by morning, how about you confront them then?”
“In the morning, you clear out your feelings before you dumbasses end up avoiding each other to purposefully brush this aside and I swear! I swear if it gets awkward because you both won’t look past your egos, I’ll force you into the damn cabin and lock you there to talk.”
Nam smiled sweetly, yet a threat underlined beneath her final words and Zoro thought of the only thing he should do now.
“Fine then.”
“I’ll talk. I’ll…confess to everything.”
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oharabunny · 7 months
Text
The Grass is Greener on the Other Side
Description: It's Miguel's birthday and you want to surprise him with his childhood favorite foods. With you living in his home, he has rules, and you broke the most important one.
Story is connected to my yandere!caretaker!Miguel fic.
Word Count: 5170
Warning: 18+, mdni, yandere!caretaker!Miguel, fem!afab!Reader, spanking, manipulation, slut-shaming, Stockholm Syndrome, infantilization, physical pain, non-con, not beta read
Please read warnings before proceeding. The following behaviors are abusive and I do not condone them.
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You wake up one morning from Lyla’s alarm and see Miguel isn’t next to you in bed. That is typical of him because he has to go to work early or the rare times he stays there overnight (which he will always give you a heads up on). 
He will almost always come home every night so it doesn’t particularly bother you. (But it definitely bothers him because he just wants to spend an eternity in every waking hour caring for you, but alas the multiverse isn’t going to take care of itself. It’s not like he can entrust the fate and balance of it all to the other Spiders.)
You slowly begin to wake up and slide yourself out of bed. Another day without Miguel as your only friend and husband to keep you entertained. 
That is until you realize what day it is.
You memorize this specific date because it is one of the few things that Miguel will tell you about himself (you pestered him a long time to tell you).
Today is his birthday.
You feel saddened by the fact he is not home to celebrate, but that gives you the chance to surprise him if he comes back home tonight.
You ask Lyla what Miguel’s favorite cakes and birthday food are. 
Lyla says he really likes the pan dulce sold at this specific bakery downtown. Unfortunately they’re a prideful business that does not do delivery. 
That is a problem.
Ever since he took you under his wing to live in his apartment, he has many, many rules for you to follow. They only get stricter after marriage and childbirth. 
Rule number one is you do not leave the apartment for any reason (unless it’s for safety and Miguel is not there to save the day).
Lyla, his AI assistant, is also sure as hell not going to let you go either.
You have a child now, a daughter of 9 years, so there is even less incentive to let you go outside.
You think to yourself, wouldn’t your daughter also want to help set up his birthday surprise?
You immediately wash up and dress in one of Miguel’s favorite dresses that he likes on you. You even put on the style of makeup and hairdo the way he likes them.
You go to your daughter’s room and softly knock on her door. “Hey, Y/D/N, can I come in?”
She swings the door open, and says while yawning, “Hey mama, good morning.”
You step into her room and sit on her bed. You pat the bed to gesture to her to sit down next to you.
“It’s your papa’s birthday today. And I think we should surprise him with his favorite foods when he gets back.”
Her face lights up in excitement and bounces up to her toes. “It is?! Oh can we, mama?”
She pauses, “But wait, you can’t cook.”
It was another one of those rules Miguel set for you: you are not allowed to cook. You can at most use the microwave, with Lyla’s supervision. 
“I know, sweetie, but I know a few places we can stop by to pick up his favorite foods.” You counter.
“But papa says you’re not allowed to go outside, it’s too dangerous for you.” Your daughter looks to the side with uncertainty while playing with her fingers. She does this whenever she feels pressured.
You sigh, “I know…that papa can be protective of me. But sometimes…he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m not as weak as he thinks. Besides, I want to spend time with you outside! I’ll promise to take you to your favorite ice cream spot, if you’ll show me.”
With just that, her face lights up again in glee. She has always wanted to bring you to her favorite places in the city that she usually goes with her papa. You never got the chance to see the outside world beyond that brief time in Spider Society and when he brought you to the hospital for her birth. 
You lean into your daughter’s ear, “But we’ll need to trick the alarm system and Lyla if we want to make it happen.”
You have to convince Lyla into disabling the alarm system without her alerting Miguel.
You also have to make your trip super quick because he likes to video call you randomly. 
There are very few ways to convince or even trick Lyla. None of which would pop up in your head if you aren’t particularly tech savvy. 
And you aren’t.
“Lyla.” You called her.
“Hey there sweetie. What’s up?” The small yellow woman appears on your shoulder and tilts her head in question.
You pause to gather your words and organize your mind. It doesn’t really work.
“It’s Miguel’s birthday today and I want to surprise him.” You start slowly to gauge her response.
“Ah, yes it is, and oh dear…” Lyla pauses, “He doesn’t particularly like his birthday, much less surprises.”
“Well, I still think he should have a little something. Maybe not like a party if he doesn’t like those, but something like getting his favorite foods. And before you tell me I’m not allowed to cook, I know. And… I need to go outside to pick them up.” You clasp your hands together and look down to help with your words.
You can see Lyla is already about to cut in.
“I KNOW, I know, rule number one. But, it’s close by. I’ll make it quick. Y/D/N will be with me.” 
Lyla sighs and readjusts her pink heart-shaped glasses, “You know Miguel is still not going to be happy about that.”
“You don’t have to tell him! I mean, you’ll be with me and if anything happens you can call him. But, I swear, nothing will happen to me!” 
“I’m sorry gal, I just can’t let you do that.” Lyla could only give you a sympathetic look.
“He deserves something special for a special day. Even setting aside his whole birthday, I just want to show him how much I appreciate him for everything he’s done for me.” You could feel yourself becoming dejected.
“You can paint him a picture.” Lyla suggests.
“I painted him a thousand.” You counter.
“You can crochet.”
“I do that every day.” You are getting frustrated and sigh, “And don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous that I’m not allowed outside. I can walk just fine. You can take your diagnostics. Even I need a change of scenery every now and then.”
“Girlie, you know you two have talked about this. Miguel set that rule in stone. I can’t do anything about it.” Lyla is still on the fence.
“I just… I just want to get him something that reminds him of home. I haven’t seen him have that pan dulce at all before. He deserves it for all his hard work. Don’t you think?” You plead and plead in hopes to appeal somewhere in her algorithm for Miguel’s sympathy.
“Well, I can ask one of our Spiders to fetch it for you.” Damn you Lyla.
“I can’t trouble the Spider people for this!” You quickly said.
And then you remembered something.
“Hey Lyla, don’t you have customization mods that you’ve been bugging Miguel to let you have?” Your eyes look devious.
“...no?” Lyla narrows her eyes in suspicion.
“Well… if I can get him the pan dulce, he’ll be very happy. And you know with happy Miguel, I can convince him to let you have your customization mods.” You wink. 
Lyla doesn’t immediately answer and looks up in thought. “Hmmm… Well, as long as you make it quick…”
“And he cannot know!”
“Deal. At least he won’t berate me about it.” Lyla twirls her hand. “But you have to make it quick!” She emphasizes and points at you.
You smile and nod. 
You quickly go and grab your laptop to order the pan dulce for pickup. You also map out a couple other stops to pick up his favorite empanadas, tamales, sopapillas, etc and your daughter’s ice cream spot as you promised. Nothing can go wrong. 
You tell her to get ready to go and Lyla to disable the alarm system.
“Hey Lyla, could you also temporarily disable the live tracking on my watch?” 
She gives you a bored look. “He quite literally checks every 30 minutes. Sometimes 5. Oh and including the camera feed in the apartment as well. He’s gonna notice.” 
“Could you, like, distract him at work? Maybe another anomaly case or what not.”
“Fortunately for you, he’s out in another universe catching an anomaly right now. But it’s an easy one. I can try and distract him a little, but he’s going to finish up pretty fast with this one.” Lyla conjures up her own digital screen to analyze all her possibilities. “I can probably shoot another case for him to do.”
Honestly anything is fine as long he’s distracted long enough for you to go to all of your stops. 
“I’ll try and be fast.” You promise her. “Oh and Lyla-”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.” You smile at her genuinely.
“Aw shucks.” Lyla smiles back.
On Miguel’s end, he is finishing up his capture on several anomalies and heading back to HQ. He just can’t wait to go home soon since today is slow and nothing else should be happening. All projects are being handled by the other Spiders, so he can take it easy and go see you.
That is until Lyla pops up on his shoulder and screams, “HELLO MIGUEL–!”
He flinches and covers his ears from the banshee levels of frequency. “What the shock Lyla! Don’t scream into my ear!”
“Haha sorry, sorry. I just wanted to let you know that there’s another case on Earth-2348 that needs your attention.”
“Send another Spider for that. I need to go home and check on Y/N.” Miguel raises his brow at her through his mask.
“You have a point, but this one requires your special attention.” Lyla shows him the data.
Miguel gives a gruff sigh and rolls his eyes, “Fine. Let’s get this over quick.”
You and your daughter are making your way downtown. Walking fast, faces pass and you’re… at Miguel’s childhood bakery!
The walk with your daughter has been a breath of fresh air. You’ve been trapped in that godforsaken apartment for the last 9 years, basically ever since your daughter was born. But even before then, Miguel wouldn’t let you go outside unless it was a date or state of an emergency. He hasn’t taken you out on a date since your daughter’s existence. And emergencies rarely ever do arise, if ever. 
But now, you get to have your own time with your daughter without being shackled to him and the shared apartment. It’s not like you hate him; you just wish he lets you have the freedom to choose and make your own decisions. 
Why can’t he see that?
Picking up the goods is quick and easy, even if there is a bit of a wait in some shops. You know you don’t have time to stall and admire your surroundings. 
You still take your daughter to the ice cream spot that she boasts about going with papa. You’re happy that you get to also share this moment with her as well.
“What flavor does papa get with you?” You ask your daughter. Maybe you can pick up a pint for him.
“He usually gets cinnamon-basil.” Your daughter scrunches up her face in disgust. “I usually get the peanut butter fudgesicle.”
Noted. 
You turn toward the male worker to place your order, “Um, hi there, I would like the peanut butter fudgesicle…”
You turn to your daughter, “On a cone?” She nods. 
“On a cone.”
You continue, “As for me, I would like the [your fav ice cream flavor] on a cone as well. Oh! And one pint each for the peanut butter fudgesicle and the cinnamon-basil.” 
The transaction goes smoothly and he hands you your order. He decides to add, “You are very pretty ma’am. I hope you and your daughter have a nice day.”
You blush at the compliment. Miguel is usually the one feeding you compliments, but it’s nice seeing someone else other than your husband acknowledging you. 
You smile back cheerfully, “Thank you!”
Miguel quickly finishes up on this “special” case that Lyla claims to be. Strange, she usually isn’t wrong with her calculations and data processing. Did something happen to her programming?
He fidgets his gizmo to check up on you since he hasn’t planned on taking on an extra case today. The camera feed of the apartment shows no signs of you or your daughter. Then, he pulls up his map of his Earth to find your pinpoint, but it’s not there. He searches for your ping frantically and it’s not there.
“Lyla.” He calls in a low tone.
She pops up and tries not to look guilty, mentally cursing you for not being fast enough.
“Why did you give me such an easy anomaly to take care of?” His voice is threatening. 
Lyla can’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry! Y/N wanted to surprise you for your birthday. She didn’t want you to find out because you know…you’d freak out.”
“You know the rules. You’re not programmed to respond to her commands.” He crosses his arms as he gives her a heated look.
“Well, you deserve a little something, and she really wants to show her appreciation for you. You can’t fault me for that!” Lyla protests.
He just glares at her in the most deadpan expression.
“Okaaaaay. It’s mostly because she promised me that she’ll help get me those mods you never let me get.” She rolls her eyes.
“Where. Is. She. Now.” He emphasizes each word, barely holding on to his anger and state of panic from breaking loose. He notes to himself to reprogram her, thoroughly.
“She should be on her way back to her apartment right now! She went to that bakery you grew up with and the ice cream spot you take Y/D/N with.”
And with that, he heads out.
You beeline towards your apartment as you check for the time. Luckily Miguel hasn’t called you all day or else you wouldn’t know what to say or how to react.
You and your daughter reach the second to last block of the apartment when suddenly you get approached by some shady, hooded figure.
“Hey there, pretty lady! Hope you can spare a few minutes with me~” He steps up towards you, a little too close for comfort.
You kind of freeze up in place, and are unsure of how to respond. You are too polite to tell him off. “U-Um, excuse me.” 
You take your daughter’s hand tightly, who is shooting daggers at him, and try to move past the stranger. 
He stops you by grabbing your shoulder and shoving you back into the alleyway behind you, causing you to lose your grip on both your daughter and bag of food. 
You hit against the brick wall aggressively, with your head smacking against it. You start to feel lightheaded and the area of impact pulsating.
He tries to reach for your purse, but is soon met with a loud, booming punch against the gut from your daughter. He is sent flying 50 feet away and smacks against the wall causing him to pass out. (She might have killed him.)
“Mama! Mama! Are you okay?!” Your daughter frantically rushes to your side, gripping the skirt of your dress.
“I-I’m fine. I just need a moment to collect myself.” You hold your head from the impending headache.
Not a second later, you are suddenly hoisted up like a potato sack causing you to scream and flail until you recognize whose back you’re seeing belongs to.
It’s your husband, and he wastes no time to leap to the top floor of the apartment building with not just you but your daughter also, one on each hand, without breaking a sweat. 
“Lyla, open the door.” He sternly commands.
The door opens on its own, and he gently sets both you and your daughter down. You are still shaken from the whole ordeal that your knees give out. He swiftly catches you, almost as if he expects you to. 
He carries you bridal style, and walks you to the living room to set you down on the couch. He takes off his mask, and you can see the tension contorting his face, stabbing you with guilt.
He grabs your chin to scan for any signs of obvious injury, and a quick visual across your body. 
“Lyla, scan her for vitals.”
Quickly, she does and concludes, “All vitals seem normal. Heart rate is 120, likely due to panic and stress. Increased blood flow to the back of her head due to external impact, but no signs of head trauma.”
He drops his head and leans in. He runs his fingers through your hair in the area of impact and massages your scalp. You can feel your headache already melting away, and you lean into his touch.
“Just why…” He whispers into your ear. “Why would you go outside?”
“I just wanted to surprise you for your birthday.” You put your hands on his wide shoulders and give him a light squeeze, trying to placate him.
It does nothing to sooth him. He shifts himself to sit beside you and pulls you into his embrace. You are led to sit on his lap with your face laying on the crook of his neck as he continues to massage your head. His other hand rests around your waist.
“Y/D/N, come here.” He doesn’t stop his ministrations.
She has been standing near the door fidgeting her fingers anxiously. She walks over to you two, and with the smallest voice she says, “Am I in trouble, papa?”
He sits up a little, but assures you that he won’t drop you by tightening his embrace. 
“No, but tell me what happened. Every last detail.” He says firmly, yet tactfully.
She tells him everything, including the part where the ice cream guy complimenting you. You can feel his grip getting harder and tighter as he grinds his jaw. His jealousy is apparent. 
“Thank you for being honest with me. You’re a very good girl for protecting your mother. You take after me which is why you are strong. You are also a smart girl. You must understand that your mother is in no shape to go outside without me. Never let her persuade you again.” He emphasizes “never” to drive home the point. “If she tries to go outside again, tell me.”
And at that, you pull yourself away from him. His arm around your waist doesn’t budge, still straddling you to his lap. The hand that was on your head now rests on your neck.
“That’s not fair, Miguel! I am a grown woman! Your wife, her mother! You can’t keep trapping me here in this apartment.” You protest.
“I’ll…I’ll go crazy.” You barely whisper whilst choking back a sob.
“We already had this discussion before. It’s just not safe. Look at what happened today! Do you really think you’re in any position to be demanding to go outside?!” He glares at you.
You don’t listen. You try to tear yourself from him but his grip is relentless. You push and kick with all your might, but you’re like a mouse fighting against a lion.
You turn your head to your daughter, “Y/D/N, I am your mother, please don’t listen to him.” You plead in hopes that she won’t bar you from ever going outside again too. 
Alas, Miguel is the one with authority here.
“Don’t drag her to your impulse. You also endangered her by taking her with you.” He chastises, and forces your head back down to lean into his, to look him in the eyes. “You may be her mother, but you can’t protect her.”
Somewhere in your heart breaks. You slump as all the energy in your muscles give out. 
Yes, considering today, you never would have been able to protect your child. Yes, it is in fact your own child, who hasn’t even reached puberty, that saved your life. What would have happened if she was taken while you were distracted? You have no survival skills.
“Y/D/N, go to your room. I need to talk to your mother in private.” He orders and watches as she scurries off.
With her bedroom door shut, he calls for Lyla, “Activate soundproofing.”
Your heart begins to race in anticipation for what’s about to happen. He gets up from the couch while holding you (causing you to koala hug him) with one hand on your bum and the other your back.
He carries you to your shared bedroom, and unceremoniously plops you to the bed. He flips you over so that you face down to the bed, and slides you towards the edge so your ass hangs off.
“I’m going to punish you now. This is your lesson for disobeying my most important rule.” He says in a cold tone. 
Goosebumps form and your body shivers in fear. You never would have expected to be here. He has always been so gentle, forceful at times, but gentle nonetheless. 
You fucked up big time.
“P-Please wait…!” You hold your arm out to stop him.
He swats it away and simply says, “Stop moving.”
He hikes up the skirt of your dress over your ass revealing your pretty lace panties, and grips the skirt in place on your lower back.
“You didn’t wear safety shorts under the dress? You’re either a slut or an idiot.”
Before you can answer, he gives you a hard smack on your left ass cheek. You yelp from the sudden impact. It stings and burns.
You squirm, but you don't move out of place from the heavy weight pressing you down your abdomen.
He gives you another smack, this time on the right cheek. His touch is not kind, not tender like you’ve been used to for all these years. Your heart races so intensely; you can feel it beating against the mattress. 
“P-Please…” You attempt to get the words out through your heavy pants. “I…just want to…give you a birthday present.”
He kneads your cheek harshly, and you instinctively hiss from the contrast of earlier hits and round your back to escape his hand. He pushes your abdomen back down.
“And yet, instead, you had not only made me worry, but you endangered yourself unnecessarily and for what? A couple baked goods? I can get them any time.” He hard smacks your cheeks a couple times earning him a scream. “Not very considerate of you on my birthday.”
You sob from his words and the pain from his strikes. He doesn’t loosen his hold and continues to strike your ass in rapid succession. 
You groan into the sheets while you grip them tightly to hold yourself in some form of leverage. 
He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls your panties up. The cloth wedging itself into your cunt.
“You’re getting wet.” He scoffs. “You’re getting off on this.”
He rubs the inner side of your ass near your cunt with his thumb. He pulls on it to spread your cunt out for him to see. He glides his pointer finger across your glistening hole.
“You’re very wet.” His husky voice is low and you can sense he’s beginning to feel aroused. 
He pulls your right leg up and anchors your foot down to the mattress. “Keep your ass up.”
You do as you’re ordered and he smacks the area close to your dripping pussy. He smacks again and again. You can barely hold on. That area is far too sensitive.
Especially when you’re becoming impossibly wet. 
Your cunt is clenching around nothing and you try to push down the neediness that’s building up in the pit of your stomach. Your clit won’t stop pulsating. 
He pushes your hiked up leg back down to focus the assault on just your ass. He forcefully pulls down your panties and inspects your pussy again. While it’s not the first time he’s ever seen it, for some reason, you’re so much more embarrassed being presented in this way. 
“I-I’m sorry Miguel. I w-won’t do it again.” You want to be out of this demeaning hold as soon as possible. You can’t contain your tears and sobs flowing into your bed.
He again kneads your ass, but in thought. As if considering your apology, “If you’re truly sorry, then you’ll continue to ride out your punishment.”
Your eyes widen as his hand crashes down on your ass again. 
Your skin is fiery hot and raw. Your mind is blanking out. Strings of saliva fly out of your mouth. 
He stops for a moment after minutes of nonstop assault on your poor ass to knead and console your sensitive skin and muscles. (If your skin is pale, your ass is beet red, almost glowing like his webs.) 
You make a guttural throat sound in response; the shock shooting your brain awake. 
“Forgive me! Please, forgive me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. Please stop.” 
He stops but his hand does not leave your ass as he gives you a quizzical look. “You didn’t know? Like you didn’t know this would happen?” 
You make a poor attempt at a nod. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think someone would attack me.”
He lets go of your dress and grabs you by the bodice pulling you off of the mattress. He drags you to the front of the full size body mirror where you can clearly see the dramatic height difference between the two of you. 
He grabs your waist while holding your face out. “Look at yourself!” He yells.
You take a good look at yourself. You’re a mess. The tears streaming down your face ruined your makeup. Streams of black from your mascara stain your cheeks while your lipstick is smeared all over your mouth. Your hair is disheveled. Your eyes are red. Your dress is wrinkled.
You don’t quite understand what he’s looking for. All you see is a mess.
“Do you have any idea how captivating you are? Why do you think I love this specific dress on you? And your makeup? You can tempt any man around you. You can’t possibly think no one would try to take you?” He says while pressing his hard-on on your back.
Sure, the dress hugs your body in all the right places. It shows your cleavage. But still, nothing overly liberal and out of place for a casual stroll in the city. Not when other more scantily clad women are a dime a dozen. Especially in Nueva York, in a time that’s far more advanced and liberal than your own.
“I d-don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m not that pretty.” You struggle to stand, but his grip on your waist keeps you from falling.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” He grips your jaw harder as he glares at you through the mirror.
“I’m really not. I don’t even know why you married me!” You sob. “I’m weak. I’m useless. There are tons of girls who are better and prettier than I am. Why did you choose me? All I do is give you reasons to do more work at home than you already have.” You can’t help but sulk and spill all your insecurities.
His gaze softens and drops his grip from your jaw. He spins you around and brings you close to his chest. He strokes your head like how he used to comfort you. Your gentle Miguel is back.
“Shhh, I know that you can’t do a lot of things like other people, but it doesn’t make me love you any less. Isn’t that enough?” 
You pull your face away from his chest and look up at him. “But I want to be your equal. I want to be worthy.”
“But you are worthy. You don’t have to be my ‘equal’ for me to love you.” He counters. Good point. He cups your cheek and you lean into his touch. He lightly wipes away your tears. 
You have nothing more to say. Perhaps you’ll never understand why he chose you, why he loves you. 
“I love you more than you can know.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “We have a beautiful family now. I can’t risk losing you, any of you. I hope you understand that.”
His eyes darken. You can see that his words mean more than what he tells you. You don’t know what he really means.
You have no choice but to accept him anyway. He is your rock in this world. Your entire fiber of being and existence completely and solely hinges upon him and his will. Without him, you have nothing, you are nothing. 
He is your savior as much as he is your captor. He is your caretaker as much as he is your jailor. 
He is your God.
You two linger in each other’s hold as if time stood still. His scent calms you down, and you begin to relax more and more in each breath you take as you sink into his embrace. 
Until your stomach growls.
He chuckles as he lets you go slowly. “Looks like someone’s hungry. I’ll go whip up some dinner for us.”
He walks away for a second to grab a box of tissues. He wipes away all of your tears, makeup smears, and dripping nose (which he tells you to blow out while holding up the tissue for you). 
“B-But the pastries and the ice cream I got for you. They got left behind.” You sniffle. 
“Don’t worry about it.” He pauses to think. “How about this? I’ll take the next weekend off and we can go together, as a family.”
You smile up at him; you couldn’t be more happy. “Thank you, Miguel. Thank you.”
He softly smiles back and kisses your forehead, “Now, go rest, I’ll come back to get you when dinner is ready. I’ll wash you up after.”
You nod to that. You make your way to your bed and plop face down. Your ass is still stinging and burning so you can’t lay on your back. Your eyes flutter shut and begin to drift off.
Good grief is what he thought watching you pass out on the bed. You’re going to catch a cold. He lifts you up to untuck the blanket and covers you with it. He carefully tucks the blanket in every crevice around your neck, ensuring no part of you is bare to feel the cool air. 
He stays for a second to look at you and brush away the strands of hair from your face before walking out and closing the door behind him. 
A/N: Well...that was intense. The second part will be fluffier and smuttier. (づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ I spent like at least 12 hours just on part 1 in both writing and proofreading, only to not even get to part 2 yet. Feedback is welcomed. This is not a comfortable read.
Also I want to thank @wreakingmarveloushavok for giving me the idea of what Mexican pastry that's eaten on birthdays! Everything else I googled, including any inaccurate health related mentions.
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hp-hcs · 4 months
Note
violent stalker mattheo riddle.... each guy and girl readers ever spoken to? damn wdym they showed up beaten up the next day and they dont even know who did it ????
i feel like he'd also get violent with reader and ykw .... im so insane id let him beat me bloody .
"i'm doing this because you're not listening to me, sweetheart. how else am i supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn't do?"
hey uh, future requesters: giving me a line of dialogue or smth to build around means i’ll finish your request WAY faster. tysm anon 😭
requests open
prometheus — yandere! insane! stalker! mattheo riddle x gn! reader
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wow! there’s a fuck ton of really fucking dark violence, murder, torture, manipulation, abduction, and horrific domestic abuse in this! please be careful if you choose to read this!
1.5k words!
i jokingly took a sociopathy test with a couple of friends earlier today and i scored like really high so uh dunno how to feel about that
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Am I…am I in trouble or something, Professor…?”
Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and she looked at you over the rim of her glasses. She folded her hands together neatly where they rested on her desk before speaking. “Not for now, no. Relax a bit, dear. The law states that you’re innocent until proven guilty.”
“That’s not- that doesn’t really make me less nervous.”
The professor opened her mouth to speak again when a chime alerted her to an incoming floo call.
With a wave of her wand, the flames flared green and a genial-looking man stepped out of the fireplace. He brushed soot off of his robes and grinned brightly as soon as he caught sight of the professor.
“Minerva! Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid Quincy isn’t going to make it. Corbett is sick, poor thing, so he’s staying home with him today,” the man gushed, evidently quite close with the professor.
“Oh, send them both my well wishes, Hez, dear. Anyway, this is the student you asked to see, Y/n L/n,” she motioned towards you.
The man gave you a cheery grin��far too cheerful for this early in the morning—and held out his hand for you to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mx. L/n. I’m Auror Hezekiah Ackerly. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?”
You dubiously shook his outstretched hand, a bit put off by his bright grin that never seemed to dim. “Sure.”
“Wonderful!” the Auror pulled the second office guest chair closer and sat down across from you. “Let’s get the easy questions out of the way. Do you have many friends? Or maybe a small, close-knit group of people you regularly hang out with?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck kind of question was this?
“Uh, I guess a close-knit group?”
Auror Ackerly summoned a notebook and quill, writing quickly. “Who belongs to this group?”
Seriously, this felt more like being at a psychiatrist’s office than being questioned by a government official.
“Er, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger? And sometimes Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood?”
Seriously, what was going on?
“And do you have any…romantic relationships? Any troubles or issues there?”
Your eyes narrow. “What’re you playing at?”
“Cormac McLaggen was found dead in the Forbidden Forest this morning,” Professor McGonagall cut to the chase, interrupting Auror Ackerly. “You were the last known person to have spoken to him, and several of your peers attest that they heard an argument break out between the two of you last night after dinner.”
Your eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. “Dead? Wh- how?”
“That’s what we at the Ministry would like to know,” Auror Ackerly interjected smoothly. “You’re not in trouble, Mx. L/n, but I am here to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.”
Your jaw dropped.
They thought you did this?
~~~
You sat at a table, alone in some room deep inside the Ministry building.
You huffed, folding yet another paper crane from the stack of sticky notes Ackerly had oh-so-thoughtfully left for you after your interrogation.
You set the finished bird on the table, the small pile of origami cranes you’ve made while waiting slowly getting larger.
Peeling off another sticky note, you started folding another when a nice-looking man in well-pressed robes entered the barren room and stopped in front of your table. He looked down at you with mild bafflement.
“L/n, I presume?”
“That’d be me,” you mumbled, adding your newest crane to the pile.
The man smiled gently before waving a hand over your paper birds and enchanting them to fly.
You tried to hide your awe as you look up at the cranes that floated and soared around the room.
The man smiled at your reaction. “It’s quite nice to finally meet you, Mx. L/n. You’ve been the topic of many a discussion today.”
“I’d imagine so, yes,” you said dryly. “Not many teenagers accused of murder coming through the department, huh?”
He grinned. “Not really, no.”
The man pulled out the other chair at the table, sitting down across from you and rifling through the thick manila folder he held.
“Are you here to interrogate me some more?” You asked suspiciously. “Ask Ackerly, man. I already told him everything I know.”
He laughed. “No, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m your lawyer, Mx. L/n.”
You blink. “I don’t have a lawyer. My family can’t afford that.”
“You always have the right to an attorney, Mx. L/n,” he said kindly as he held out his hand to you. “Octavian Foxglove, Esquire.”
“Y/n L/n, but you already knew that,” you greet, shaking his hand.
He smiled again.
He was a very smiley man.
He laid out the manila folder and turned it around on the table so that you would be able to see it.
The first paper on top was a copy of your school records, with a bright red PRIMARY SUSPECT stamped over the top of your picture.
You grimaced.
Your lawyer nodded sympathetically. “There’s a photo underneath that page, by the way. Supposedly the last photo we have of McLaggen still alive and, uh…it’s not looking great for you, in all honesty.”
You moved your school records page aside, finding a standard moving photograph paperclipped to the inside of the file.
It showed, quite clearly, you speaking with Cormac McLaggen in a hallway. Picture-Cormac angrily threw his arms up in the air and silently yelled at picture-you, while your body language in the photo loudly screamed ‘furious & upset’.
He was right. It wasn’t a great look.
“And there’s only one thing I need you to- oh, where is it?” He dug through the inside pockets of his robes, procuring a pen. “Aha! The next page has a simple contract. I just need a signature stating that you either accept me as your public defender, or would like to request someone else from the Ministry to handle your case.”
You nod, flipping the page to the contract he indicated. Mr. Foxglove smiled again and held the pen out to you.
As soon as your fingers made contact with the pen, you vanished.
~~~
You stumbled blindly, almost falling to the floor before a hand caught your elbow and steadied you.
“Easy, careful.”
You whirled around, surprised to see a different man in Mr. Foxglove’s clothes. He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner.
“Woah- slow down, kid. You’re fine.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m- was your lawyer,” he shrugged and smiled. “Augustus Rookwood, at your service.”
It dawned on you. “It was a portkey,” you breathed. “The pen. It was a portkey, wasn’t it?”
“Clever kid,” he sounded impressed. “Now c’mon. The boss wants to see you.”
You followed the man without complaint; half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that Augustus Rookwood was an Azkaban escapee charged with at least forty counts of first degree murder.
Pretty simple choice.
It looked like you were in a wealthy aristocrat’s house. Er, mansion, more accurately. The hallway you were walking down was old and stuffy and dusty, and the overall aura of Dark magic that permeated the very air of the house sent shivers down your spine.
Rookwood led you down a flight of rickety stairs to the first floor, and then down a narrow hallway and into a study, where he left you without another word.
The study itself was old. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust except for the pristine and polished bureau right in the center.
(Obviously, ‘the boss’ was sitting at this desk.)
((Villains tend to be predictable like that.))
However, you were surprised to see that ‘the boss’ was-
“Riddle?”
He looked up at the sound of your voice, a wide grin spreading across his face as he hurriedly got up from his desk.
“Y/n, darling, hello!” He gushed, practically skipping over towards you before pulling you into a very uncomfortable hug. “Sweetheart- oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it here safely! Rookwood really is my only competent assistant; I must be sure to give him a raise.”
You froze up at the unexpected hug, your arms remaining stiffly by your sides. He let go after a moment, but remained just a bit too close for comfort.
“Hopefully the Ministry didn’t give you too hard of a time,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty grin. “I promise Ackerly’s a good man. When he’s, y’know, in control of his own body.”
Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “What?”
“Just a little Imperius, darling, no worries. Did you like your gift?”
You blinked, thrown off by his rapid changes in subjects. “Uh- gift?”
He smiled proudly. “McLaggen? He won’t bother you anymore, see?”
All the color drained from your face.
“You killed Cormac?”
He nods, grinning. “Uh-huh. I heard what McLaggen said to you last night in the hall, and I don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”
“Yours?” You repeat, your lip curling in disgust. “You’d better not be referring to me.”
Mattheo paused, looking at you in confusion. “What else would I be talking about?”
You scoff in shock, shaking your head. “Yeah, nope, I’m out.”
You turned around without further preamble, marching out of the room and towards the front door that you’d passed earlier. Mattheo laughed and followed you out of the study at a leisurely pace, seemingly unworried.
“Where are you going to go, darling? As far as the general public is concerned, you’re on the run after brutally murdering a classmate. You’re Wanted with a capital W, sweetheart.”
“I’ll figure it out,” you snarled, storming towards the front door.
“Y/n…” He warned, drawing his wand and pointing it at you. “Get back here. Now.”
“Fuck off.” You spat over your shoulder, not sparing him another glance.
That was clearly not the thing to say. As if in slow motion, you heard a dreaded word fall from his lips.
“Crucio!”
You were struck with pain that was so overwhelming, so blinding, so agonizing, that you were sure you were going to die.
You were only half aware that you’d fallen to the floor at some point as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over you. You could feel your bones creaking and grinding together, your skin splitting apart only to knit itself back together just to be torn apart again, like you were some fucked up wixen version of fucking Prometheus.
You were only vaguely aware that you were speaking, pleading. Pleading not for the Unforgivable to be lifted, but for him to just end it, end you, entirely.
“K-kill me! Kill m-me…please!” You begged, blood trailing down from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin. You must’ve bit your tongue hard for it to bleed like that, and the sting from that wound while you speak is just too overwhelming when combined with the pain from the Cruciatus Curse.
Then all at once, it stops.
You gasp for air, your entire body trembling and numb as you lay sprawled across the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.
Mattheo kneeled down by your side and cupped your face in his hands with a kind of tender gentleness that felt deeply wrong coming from him.
“See, I’m doing this because you’re not listening to me, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn’t do?” He cooed softly, gently wiping the blood from your chin with the sleeve of his shirt.
You flinched back at his touch. Your body—still wracked with uncontrollable quivers and trembles—tried in vain to crawl away from him.
“Oh no, honey- hey, honey- I promise it’s all over, okay? You were so so good for me. But you see now that you’ve got to stay with me, right?”
Your jaw quivered and your still-stinging tongue felt thick in your mouth, yet you managed to spit vicious hatred towards him.
“G-go to hell.”
A flurry of emotions crossed his face: surprise, anger, guilt, and disappointment; all of which were topped by the underlying aura of pure sadistic glee that exuded from him.
“Oh? Do you need another lesson or two before you learn?” He sighed and shook his head patronizingly. “Very well then, darling. Crucio!”
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tarjapearce · 6 months
Text
Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 7)
Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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WARNINGS: Telenovela coded drama, emotional distress, Strained Relationships, unexpected visits, mild angst, relationship building, fluff towards the end, Miguel being a softie for his wife.
Summary: Even in darkest times, love shines through.
A/N: Hope you like it :') .
Intro:
"It's your fault." Rosaura's venomous tone didn't go unnoticed by her husband.
"My fault?! I did nothing but raise her well in the Lord's path. I didn't spoil her. If anyone here is at fault is you."
William's voice was ever serene, but his words were vitriolic.
"Me?! How dare you say such things!"
Once back home with empty hands there was nothing but more chaos. Blame turned into a hot potato game of who was the culprit of your apparent rebellious phase. Neither of them wanted to assume that none other than unrealistic and absurd expectations from them towards you had been the spark that started your emancipation fire.
A fire that was shining too brightly for their likings, consuming everything they had known and had taught you. Appearances were unable to be kept any further as your mother was confronted by her friends. Asking her if the rumors of you eloping with the farmer boy were true. It would be always a:
"That wicked man manipulated my daughter. We are trying to get her back, but his lies are convincing enough to keep her by his side."
or a "I'm sure he has her against her will, my little dove would never run away like that. I know her!"
But never a truthful He got her pregnant, claims to love her and now they live in their own home away from this mess trying to live honestly.
The rumors of you getting pregnant had made them another mirror to the single youngsters in town . Rosaura could hear the people talking ill about you and them. How they didn't work hard enough to keep you on check, how they never were firmer and stricter in your upbringing, and how they had been too stupid to actually let the devil in their own home and corrupt you.
It was enough shame to convince her husband and start looking for you. She had been embarrassed enough thanks to your naive games of love. And Miguel.
Her mouth scowled in disgust, heart heavy with resent. He would definitely pay. How dared he to lay his sinful eyes on you? How dared he to lay with you? Even worse, How dared he to take you for himself, impregnated you and call you his wife?
Bold and stupid.
Miguel had ruined her plan of getting you married off to a rich and wonderful man named Sergei Kravinoff. One of the best foreign clients the estate had. He was an avid hunter and collector, that upon seeing your picture was delighted and charmed.
But how was she to explain to him that her only daughter had ran off with the farmer boy? And was now pregnant with his child?
"If you wouldn't pester her with so many dating prospects maybe this... whole mess would have been avoided and she'd be under our roof. Following our rules!"
"Would you shut up?! You let that lowlife to intimidate you. I don't care if he's build like a tree. I want him down, chopped off from the root from her life."
"He's clearly done something to her. Did you see her yelling at us? I'd never seen her like that."
"Hormones make you stupid. And pregnancy hormones make it even worse"
"Just like you when you were pregnant of her. At least he will suffer a little more with that. Once she reaches the second trimester-"
"No no. that's where you're wrong. I won't let her to ruin her life. Sergei wants her!"
"I will have to stop you there, Rosaura. A child life is sacred. Innocent."
"Oh, the wretched child you're always complaining about is now an innocent life?"
"Don't tempt my ire, woman. I know you despise the man. And as much as this situation angers us, that's going too far. That's her punishment for giving in temptation. Let her bear with it."
"You're such an hypocrite. Do you know who Sergei is?"
"I do. Nor care. All I want is my daughter back. There are other ways to break them apart."
"What are you thinking?"
"Confronting them only brings them closer. I fell for her lie of loving him for a minute, but I know it's fear speaking for her. We'll let them be for now."
"No!-"
"And just when they think they are safe, it will be the time for us to step in. Let them have a little sense of security. I'll allow them to finish the place."
"You are waiting too long!"
"Rosaura. Enough. I know what I am doing. I know you hate waiting. But it will be worth it. I know so. Can't let the man that embarrassed me and my family, and tarnished my reputation to go unscathed with my daughter."
"You better keep your promises, William. I hate being lied to."
------
Miguel could barely get a glimpse of sleep during the night. Just when he thought his body would actually give in to the somnolence, he'd startle and remain awake. Pushing the sleepyness away as his mind raced with the many insidious thoughts about last night.
How had your parents found you? With their influence he was sure that they've got the address, they were known through the whole county by their horses business mainly, church was a secondary feat.
His hand ran through his messy hair. You had been put to sleep by Victoria, something he was thankful for. He was no baby expert but it was a commonly known fact that too much stress led up to bad things, and the least he wanted was something else happening. Specially to you or his child.
What had he gotten himself into, this time? He knew your parents were difficult, but this was something completely different from what he expected. He was not only dealing with them, but their direct threats as well.
Not that he wasn't regretting everything that had happened between you two. Had he been too rushed into marrying you? Of course not. He also didn't marry you because you'd be the future mother of his child. He had snatched you away for himself because he loved you. He loved you to bits and pieces and as a whole.
You were too much of a woman to be married to someone else that would treat you badly and wouldn't take his time to actually get to know you. You were too much for the rest of men that never made a step further in their conquer and we're satisfied with little, such as little glances or smiles from you.
He was ambitious, and had wanted it all. He went through so much to get you, still was. But knowing you loved him and even stood your ground against your parents, one of the reasons of his ongoing headache, made it all worth it.
He couldn't quite explain it. At first it was mere lust his body was filled with upon meeting you. The need to corrupt you had proven extremely difficult for him to keep himself at bay. That's why he was always so tempting, so forbidden, so inviting to give in around you.
But you were too sweet and pure. Always being concerned about him, ever attentive and gentle. A stark contrast with his demeanor. He had taken the job since his place needed renovations once and for all. He owed that to himself. He owed that to his old man. Vicky's late husband.
And then he had met you, for real. At first he thought of you another gorgeous spoiled, and dumb city girl if he was honest, but as time kept on passing, he was proven wrong in so many ways he felt the need to apologize to you as soon as you'd wake up later.
You were smart, not a genius but smart enough to be a fast learner and help your father with the finances, heavenly cooking skills and so eager to be more than a bimbo wife, a life most of your old friends had settled for. You had gone to college, just like him. You cared for those around you even if that meant to face your mother, just like him. You both were so alike in so many ways it'd be foolish to let you go.
What got him grovelling at your feet was your innocence and your will to make something out of your life even if your parents sabotaged you. The strength in you, the perseverance and hard work you had shown him even to this very day was the deal maker. And soon enough you'd make him a father.
You weren't only making his most precious dream come true, but were in tandem helping in making your love nest.
Investing all of your energies in building your forever home. Your own sanctuary and safe place with him.
And now it was his time to protect you, to stood his ground like you had done for him.
The room was filled with a warm and golden orange and yellow hues, basking the place in a gentle light, as if the universe was telling him 'Everything will be fine'. A hopeful thought to his already rattled mind. He was exhausted.
Exhausted of hiding and running away only to be harassed later. But that wouldn't stop him from working, no. There was still so much left to do around the hacienda.
With a deep breath he looked your way. A small tug on his heart sent a painful stab kn his chest at your expression. Frowning brows, hands clutched to the sheets and pillows, probably pretending it was him and puffy eyes that served as proof of your cries last night.
Your rage was something else. It made his tired smile to soften into a more admiring one. He hoped to never face it, cause he was sure he'd be on his knees, asking for forgiveness if you wished, even if it was over something so silly and irrelevant.
With a soft croak, you stirred and he embraced you gently. You were scared and asking for him last night, something he regretted to not have fulfilled sooner. But you and his child's safety was the main priority.
He'd have to talk to Joseph and Paco about new rounds done through the day. He couldn't install the safety cameras yet cause his area would take a lot to cover and it wasn't finished yet. If only he'd have some sort of superpower to make everything faster.
But the only power he had right now was to provide comfort to your heart and head. He'd die before something happening to you.
A mental slap came to his mind upon such though. If he died there was none else to look after you.
Even his mind needed a break. Birds chirped merrily, announcing the six am. But his body felt heavier and more sluggish than usual, his mind unclear as a fog came over his thoughts. He wasn't used to pull all-nighters. You turned on your side and curled in his chest, finally taking a hold of him. Eyes fluttered open, relief etched to your features.
Your arms embraced him so desperate it quickly had your eyes all glossy and teary again.
"Hey..." He mumbled with a lip tight smile.
You sobbed in his cradling arms.
"I'm so sorry, Miguel."
A gentle shhh came from him. His calloused fingers ventured through the strands of your hair, caressing with such care he'd thought you'd break.
"Why are you apologizing, cariño?"
"For everything that happened last night. You don't deserve this."
"Last night wasn't good for anyone, you specially, mi amor. But you are safe here. "
"It's not about that... I'm... scared. My father knows where we live now. And he could-"
"Cerecita, mi reina. Look." He sat on the bed and took a hold of your hand, to then kiss softly at the back of your palm, "Your father can make all the threats he wants, hell... He can even tear this place down if he wants to, but he won't take me away from you."
Your hand trembled in between his. You wanted to sit, but he laid back again, draping the sheets closer to you, making sure you were warm. Like a cocoon in his arms.
"It's not about that. You don't understand Miguel. My father is a man of word-."
"So am I." His fingers grazed your cheek softly, "I promised you that we'd be happy. And we will. I don't know how and I know it's scary for us, but as long as we are together, we will."
"I don't want you to get hurt. I... I couldn't stand something happening to you just cause my parents are too petty to acknowledge I married you."
"The only thing that would kill me? Is you leaving through that door and never come back. "
The sheer thoughts brought tears to your eyes. Hormones had also woken up to make a riot on your mind.
"Don't say that, please."
He kissed the top of your head and stared down at you.
"I know this is far from over, and trouble might keep coming. The only thing I am asking from you, is to stay strong. Can you do that for me, preciosa?"
"I can try"
"Good. That's all I'm asking, really. If you're strong, I'm strong."
You gave another silent sob while he peppered your face in gentle kisses. Soothing your worries away.
But he was scared too. Not a childish sort of fear, but something deeper. He knew that your parents were dense, if not denser than water itself. And would try things to keep you on edge, or worse try and mess with his estate.
Fear tactics won't make him lower his head and coward. Not when his pregnant wife was next to him crying, stressing and feeling guilty. Your fingers however traced his face gently, his tired lids drooped, as his eyes stared at you, curious yet fearful.
"Did you get some sleep?"
He chuckled bashfully, "I look that rundown?"
"No. But you do look tired. You're not used to stay up past twelve."
A tired and airy chuckle flared out his nose, his fingers took yours to then kiss the knuckles.
"I know."
Sleepiness had weighed him down completely, body made out of lead and muscles sore. Begging him to catch a break and sleep.
"You'll get grumpy" your hand slipped away from his and went to his face again, caressing and holding onto him. Grounding his wandering thoughts towards you. Anchoring himself in your loving and preocuppied stare.
"You need sleep. I'm sure Vicky will understand. Please?"
"Can't say no to you."
Doting arms embraced his neck, pulling him closer to your chest, it was your turn to protect him. He was always making sure you had everything, that you were alright. A giver by nature.
Just like you. This time you assured he'd cuddle in your chest, sharp cheeks rested on your mounds, ear pressed against you; allowing the steady beats of your heart lull him to sleep while you played with his hair.
Vicky didn't knock the door to awake you.
-----
You both awoke around 11 am, past breakfast. Vicky had instructed the construction workers where to keep building, guiding them in Miguel's absence. Victoria knew the plans her son had, so it was relatively easy to give orders. Some days more and the barn would be completely ready to then move to fencing properly the land.
It was a bit more money, but after much thought, a vynil fencing would be perfect. It not only offered privacy, but the chances of someone sneaking in would be less than 0, unless you knew the property like the back of one's hand.
To your dismay you had only seen the first part of it. If Miguel wished, he could start selling his own produce in the farmer's market. But right now, the soil was covered in weeds, and other invasive plants and thickets. It would be the final part of the renovations.
Vicky knocked the door, Miguel opened to reveal his mother with trays of food and some tea for you. She had heard the retching from the outside door. Stress was making your morning sickness worse and having an empty stomach didn't help either.
"Got you some things that will help you, and you too."
Vicky beckoned Miguel to help her, The little coffee table inside the room was used as support, brunch was served.
"Thank you Vicky" She patted your shoulder gently, as she served some flowery smelling tea.
"Don't you worry about it. You're making me a grandma soon."
The sweet smell and taste of the steamy liquid made your stomach settle gradually. Then you started eating with ferocious appetite. Miguel had his big cup of coffee, and ate as well, but his appetite was little.
Vicky smacked the back of his shoulder softly.
"Deja de preocuparte y come." (Stop over thinking and eat.)
Your hand slid into his and squeezed.
"Miguel?"
"Hm?"
"I'm scared too. But I also know that having us demoralized and afraid won't do good for us."
He pulled you closer and kissed your head for the umpteenth time, comfort and love were words you could use if you'd get asked what his hugs felt like. Despite his rough and cold demeanor he was one of the sweetest and gentle man you had ever encounter, even if his actions spoke volumes for him.
His head remained out of his hat, the piece had suffocated him enough through a good chunk of the previous night.
"That's exactly what those cabrones want. No offense, dear"
You chuckled and shook your head.
"Vicky is right. Whatever comes, we will face it together. As a family."
His eyes softened as you placed his hand on your belly.
"One day I'm sure this will be one of those stories you'll tell your kids when they get older and wanna know about family drama"
Miguel couldn't help but snort at Vicky's insinuation. But deep down he felt grateful. Thankful enough that two of the most important people in his life were reassuring him. His devoted and short tempered mother, a crucial part of his heart and now you and his growing child. All around him, promising they'd all be fine.
He needed to believe it. This wasn't one of the moments he was allowed to flank. He needed himself strong, steady with his head high. Ever vigilant and ready to face everything that came his way. He was an O'Hara. And O'Hara's endured.
That was his own mantra, bestowed and honored by previous generations.
The brunch and Victoria's presence had helped you both to ease the rising nerves and the subtle anxiety that undermined your head with unhealthy and raucous thoughts. Instead, even if a temporary distraction, work in the estate kept going. After all, it would take so much more than just a threat to break your spirits.
---
Miguel had tended to the barn and foresaw the fencing advance. Construction materials would be brought over the weekend to immediately start making his private property even more secluded, away from prying eyes and anyone stupid enough that tried to venture within the hacienda.
And after yesterday's fiasco, Miguel had come up with a new plan about security rounds until the fencing started. Just as he was about to explain, Joseph called him, a bit concern etched into his face.
"What now?"
"It's not the people from yesterday, but they claim to know your wife, Boss."
"How many of them are there?"
"Just three. Two women and a man."
He nodded and put his hand on his neck, trying to ease the tension that refused to leave his body despite the many attempts of cheering his spirits up.
"Where's my Cerecita?"
"Uh, with Vicky in the orchard."
"Right. Stay here in case there's trouble."
Joseph nodded and stood his ground, as he watched Miguel leaving.
Who would be this time? He wasn't armed this time, so whoever that had ill intentions with him would have to face the might of his fists.
But the silent threat remained as nothing but that. The only noises around were him, the gravel crunching underneath his boots, the subtle wind that played tag between the trees, little birds here and there and finally, the voices of people he knew, but didn't remember their names or faces .
A cool gust of wind threatened his hat to be blown off his head, but he secured it with a hand. Upon arriving, his surprise couldn't be hidden.
The two ladies were the one that helped you pack and were deeply saddened at your leaving. He always saw them around you, laughing and sharing whenever your mother wasn't around to shoo them away from you. And the man, one of the helpers back at your parent's barn.
"Mr. O'Hara? Im really sorry to bother, and showing up like this after what happened."
One of the women spoke. Miguel was cautious, and so far his intentions of opening the door didn't ring a bell on him. For all he knew your parents could have sent them to spy you.
"We quit. That Rosaura lady slapped my sister and it was enough for us. We were planning on leaving the estate even before the Miss left with ya."
But that definitely sounded something his beloved mother in law would do.
"I know you have zero reasons to believe us, but trust us. None back at the estate really liked the missus's parents either. We could only hold up for so long before everything came down. But we needed the jobs."
"I understand." With a sigh, Miguel opened the door and allowed them in.
A little rounds of thank yous echoed behind him before he guided them back at the main estate.
"Will you let us stay? Just for the night of course. "
"You'll have to talk to La Patrona." (The boss)
He chuckled upon you coming to his mind, "My wife I mean."
A little of hushed yet excited whispers trailed him along some 'I told you!' 'She did it!'.
The reunion was loud as he had expected. Loaded of hugs, heartfelt congratulations and of course them rubbing your belly.
Mary, the big sister was two years older than you, she had been one of the few that approached you with genuine friendship back at home, her sister, Susan was your age, even though she was on the quieter side, she was disciplined enough to keep herself busy and out of trouble. Always doing something. However her eyes kept wandering to Joseph.
They had asked your permission to stay overnight before returning to their hometown the next day. Of course you agreed.
They helped you to prepare everything, letting Vicky to rest for a bit. Even though they had spark, Vicky observed them with hard eyes, trying to decipher their true intentions. And so far she had found nothing. Not even in the man that quickly established a conversation between Paco and Joseph.
And soon all of you sat down at the table that seemed smaller.
"Like I was telling Mr. O'Hara, you mother was livid after you left."
"She was like a child throwing a tantrum, telling Pastor William to do something"
"Yeah, that's sounds like mom" An awkward smile came to your face as they spoke.
"But after last night, it was enough for us. She slapped Susan in the face when she got her the wrong dress."
Vicky couldn't hold back her gasp and contempt
"Dios mío, esa mujer ha enloquecido" (My God, that woman has gone mad)
"I'm really sorry it had to come to this point."
"Ya can't blame yourself, darlin" Mary spoke, letting her southern accent shine through for a second, "Ever since ya left people have been leaving, only to be replaced within some days."
"No wonder why they came in so pissed" You mumbled with a little giggle.
"How's... Agustín?"
Their faces fell and the man, his old helper James spoke.
"Pastor sold him to a guy. Joaquín is kinda sick and Luis, is the only one they actually pay attention to. You know, Joaquín is old so..."
Miguel could only nod with a saddened yet expected smile. It was a matter of time for Agustín to be sold.
"Do you know by chance who he got sold off to?"
"Some russian named Kravi- Uh... Kravinoff?"
"I see." Miguel’s shoulder slumped for a moment. At least he wasn't sent off to the meat market, "Hopefully that man knows how to treat him."
"He seems into animals a bit too much, sir. A bit eccentric with his fur coats. But apparently the man is a collector and the missus's parents best client."
Of course. Agustín was a purebred friesian stallion after all. His worth was over 20k.
You slid a hand on Miguel's thigh comfortingly. His subtle blue mood contagious. A lot of details you both were missing were spilled in the table.
Even though Miguel wasn't one for gossips, hearing your parents struggling to keep the appearances had definitely put a smile on his face. It served them right after all the unhinged things they had done. But he didn't let go that easy the fact that from all the horses remaining, Luis was the only one that was being properly taken care of.
Your horse.
A little hope shone in his darkened by fears heart. He didn't care if he was called a dreamer, but sometimes he pondered how would be his relationship with your parents would've been if they had a completely reaction to him.
Would they tolerate him? Would they be excited for being grandparents? Would they be happy for you instead of being petty and spiteful about it? He didn't know.
And he was tired of thinking over and over. Vicky's words remained closer to his heart.
If isn't your stubbornness, it's your love that will convince them.
But that was a very distant and utopian thought. All that mattered in his present was you and his new growing family.
The guest cabin was taken by the ladies and James joined Paco and Joseph.
Vicky drew you a warm bath to ease the remaining tension off your body. Miguel had been watching you. The changes in your body suited beautifully. Plump breasts, hips and thighs, gorgeous sudsy skin that had some flower petals adhered to it, enhancing it's beauty. You were the purest form of art before his eyes. The mother of his children. His wife.
He marvelled at the way you smiled upon rubbing your belly. The illusion of being a mother surely took you by surprise, but with Miguel's reassurance, you were excited even to meet your child. The ultimate physical form of love between you two.
Puppy and rusty brown eyes fixed on you as you let your hair down, letting the strands to cover your back to wash them next.
He stepped in. With a kiss on your temple and a bashful smile he sat behind you.
"Mira nomás qué chulada." (Look at that, so beautiful)
He pried gently the shampoo bottle off your hands and poured some on his hands to then lather your scalp with it. The lovely smell of cherries wafted in the air as foam appeared in your head while he massaged your scalp adoringly.
You hummed in approval at the careful and soft movements of his fingers. Inducing a relaxed state over you.
"Miguel?"
"Yes, Cerecita?" His voice matching his fingers.
"I don't ever regret marrying you."
His fingers faltered for a moment before resuming his washing. It was as if the doubts on his heart had secretly found a way to your ears and you were now reassuring him.
"You've the best thing that has shown up into that old house. Still are."
"Gotta be thankful to your parents for creating you, preciosa. Unbearable as they are"
The both of you chuckled, ignoring the looming dark skies that blended within the night's mantle.
"I'll take in Mary and Susan. I'm sure they'd be wonderful help around here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I will pay them of my own money I've saved. So don't worry"
"No, no, let me take them in."
"Miguel, all of these renovations are coming off your pocket. We are a team now, I know somehow it will work out. Let me help you."
He accepted his defeat with a little slump in his shoulders and lazy smile.
"Alright, as you wish, mi corazón."
"What do you love the most about me?"
His hands took the bathtub's head shower and rinsed your hair. Water splashing on his skin, like the sudden question.
"Your bravery, empathy towards others and loyalty. And you're drop dead gorgeous too."
Your cheeks warmed up with a little flush on them as he spoke.
"What about you, Cerecita? What does my wife loves about me?"
"Since you snatched the words off my mouth, I'd say loyalty, honesty and resilience." You took his hands in yours, weaving your fingers between his and smiled, "Many would've given up on me at this point because of my parents but..."
Another kiss, "Hearing you calling me your wife makes me all happy and the good kind of dumb. I know we won't have good days, or that we will be far from perfect but, You've taught me so much about myself is wonderful. "
His hands secured yours as another kiss on your temple was given.
"Thanks for not giving up on me, Miguel."
"Thanks for being my wife, Cerecita."
Your smile disarmed him. And that night your wish of being asleep in his arms came true. There was no horrors that lurked in the shadows.
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