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walkingintheheartbreaksatellite · 1 year

Text

I Want Forever

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Gif credit goes to @londonharry (So sorry! I don’t normally use gifs so I forgot to give credit!)

Summary- Harry and Y/N broke up early into Love On Tour. Harry struggled to truly move on, as did Y/N. With tour over, a lost soul shows up at Y/N’s door one night, ready for forever.

Warnings- angst, smooshiness, you may cry

>>>————————->

September 2021

“Y/N, love, please! I haven’t seen you in weeks! Can’t you take just a bit of time off to come to my next show?”

I sigh into the phone and shake my head, knowing full well he can’t see me.

“Harry, you know I can’t! I’m swamped with school! I skipped 4 assignments and took zeroes for them when I was with you last! This is my future-.”

“And what about our future?! I told you! I want a life with you! You don’t need to be working this hard! You don’t even need to work!”

I scoff and bite my lip.

“Harry, you know I won’t! My career is important! This is what I’m working so hard for! I want to work and I want to be somebody! Not just a pop star’s girlfriend! You’re always gone. If you can’t drop your career for me then you shouldn’t ask me to drop mine for you. I thought you understood that..?”

My heart breaks more and more as he sighs into the phone.

“So that’s it then? You’re just… You’re giving up on us?”

“Harry-.”

“No, no, don’t bother. We should just end it before it gets worse for either of us. I hope things work out for you, Y/N.”

He hangs up and with that, I breakdown. I cry and I cry, praying that this was just a nightmare. But I knew he was right. And without Harry… I could focus…

July 2023

It had been a long week. In fact, it had been a long few years. After the break up, I distanced myself a lot. I got off of social media and threw myself into finishing school and eventually, entered, I got my dream job.

As much as I love helping kids, the ones that are like me and the ones that struggle worse, it breaks my heart. After the break up, I got myself back into therapy to cope.

While I am no longer spiraling, the pain is still there. I never tried to get my things. I never made contact again. I just ran. I ran from everything.

After another long, emotional day of work, I stumble into my apartment and crash on my couch. After giving myself a few moments to scream my frustrations into the couch cushion, I get up and make myself a light dinner before getting some extra work done.

I park myself down at the coffee table with a glass of white wine and a frozen dinner, turning my attention to my laptop when there’s a knock at the door. I glare curiously at the door and hesitantly get up, making my way to the door.

I hesitantly open it and my mouth drops when I see who’s on the other side of the door.

“Harry…”

He looks in my eyes, his face sullen.

“Y/N…”

Before I can really think, I try to close the door but I hear a small ‘ow’ from the other side of the door. I look down and see Harry’s foot in the door. I sigh and let it go, opening it again. He looks at me and pulls his foot back.

“Can we… Can we talk?”

I fold my arms and frown.

“We don’t have anything to talk about. Now if you’ll excuse me-.”

“Y/N, please! Just- Just hear me out!”

He steps forward and I take a step back as he backs me into my apartment and closes the door.

“There’s nothing left to say, Harry. I’ve made my peace. Obviously you have too. So you should just go-.”

He places his hands on my arms and looks into my eyes.

“Y/N, you’re all I’ve thought about since we broke up… I have missed you so.. So much, love. And I know I was horrible to you and I will never forgive myself for that. But I can’t- I need you, Y/N. I can’t take one more day without you…”

Tears well up in my eyes and I shake my head.

“You can’t just come back into my life and say that! You were the one that ended things Harry, you! I supported you through everything! And you couldn’t support me?! My career is important to me! School was important! You were important!”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down before I continue.

“I shouldn’t have to choose between them! And you made the choice for me! And you, you moved on! Multiple times! I-.”

Harry shakes his head, tears spilling down his soft cheeks.

“That’s not true! I- I couldn’t… It was hard, Y/N! I-I made a mistake… I tried to move on but I just couldn’t.. I missed you Y/N. I miss you. And.. I just want you back. I-I know I don’t deserve you, even after all I’ve done… But I just can’t let you go. I refuse to let you go without a fight.”

Before I can say anything, Harry moves to his knees and he takes me hands, forcing me to look down at him.

“Harry-.”

He pulls out a ring box, his hands shaking as tears continue to spill down his cheeks.

“Just.. Hear me out. The last two years, I have done nothing but berate myself for chasing you away. No matter how I tried to move on, you were always on my mind. 3 years. You were with me from the start. And I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been-.”

I attempt to pull him up and he shakes his head.

“Just wait. Please just let me finish… I made a mistake Y/N… But I don’t want to make another… Please… Y/N L/N… Will you marry me? Will you let be make it up to you? I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like you have to choose. I’ll support you and I’ll-.”

I begin to cry and I drop to my knees as I sob. Harry drops the ring box and takes my cheeks in his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumb as he makes me look at him. His expression softens though his eyes remain teary, and he gives me a small smile.

“I am so, so sorry my love. I will spend every day making sure you know just how much I love you. And I know have a lot to make up for but please.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a minute. I take a deep breath before opening them again.

“Yes… I’ll marry you, Harry.”

His eyes light up and he opens his mouth to speak but I place my finger on his lips, stopping him.

“But I have a few conditions. These past couple years haven’t been easy. For the first few months… I couldn’t stand even hearing your name-… I want to go to therapy. You and me. Couples counseling. And- I want to take some time to heal… You coming back is putting salt in old wounds.”

He lets go of my cheeks and looks down, his sides dropping. I sigh and despite my better judgment, I wrap my arms around his neck and I kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before he sinks into the kiss, deepening it. After a minute or so, I pull away and Harry looks into my eyes.

“I want you to listen to me, okay?”

He’s quiet for a second before he nods, gesturing me to continue.

“You made a mistake. And you’re owning up to it. I want to be with you Harry, I do. But I think we need to spend some time working through things together before we tie the not.”

He’s quiet for a moment before I hear him grab something off the floor.

“So… Does that mean you don’t want to wear the ring yet?”

I let out a small snort and shake my head. I pull away from him and hold my right hand out to him.

“No, gimmie that! I had been waiting for that! But it does mean that you’ll have to wait a little longer before you can marry me.”

He smiles and slips the ring on my finger and picks me up, twirling me around in his arms as I laugh.

It won’t be easy, but I want forever, and I want it with him.

>>>—————->

I hope you enjoyed lovelies! I would definitely be open to writing more for them!!! Requests are closed for now, until I catch up, but I will let you know when they’re open again!

Tag List

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @strwbrrydaydreams @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg

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plus-size-reader · 8 months

Text

Gentle

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Ned Stark’s eldest daughter finding herself interested by the King’s loyal protector, and even more disenchanted by how he’s treated

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The King’s arrival in Winterfell wasn’t of much interest to you, if you were being honest.

Of course you understood that it was a great honor and that his Grace was very important to your father, but outside of that, you had no real reason to pay the caravan much mind as it moved through the streets of Winterfell.

Had it not been for the pretense of duty and honor, and more severely, the pressure of your mother’s wrath, you truly believed you would have skipped the entire affair.

You weren’t the object of their visit, after all.

As the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you were much too old to be of much interest to the young Prince compared to your sisters, and the King only came to Winterfell with your Aunt Lyanna on the mind.

Really, you weren’t sure why you needed to attend.

Until, you found yourself staring down the traveling party of the King’s guard, and the striking presence of the man they called “the Hound”

You had heard stories of the man over the years, and you knew where the title had come from, but never could you have imagined the man before you now and that man were one in the same. He hardly struck you as some ravenous monster, even then.

…and as the days went by, you found your opinion unchanged.

You existed in Winterfell simply, a privilege afforded you by your father’s title and the love the families of the North had for the Starks.

For the most part, you did what you wanted and didn’t call too much attention to yourself, content to read on the sidelines and follow after your siblings as they grew into their own. That meant that you escaped a lot of the formalities of nobility, as no one really needed too much of your attention.

If they were looking for a Stark to talk to, you were always fairly low on the list and you liked it that way, especially given all the excitement in Winterfall over the past few days.

With Sansa entertaining the Prince, your father entertaining the King and Queen, and the charms of the North keeping the guard away, you finally had a moment to yourself which only meant one thing. You could finally finish your book.

It was all set, just as you wanted it.

The weather had yet to get so bitter cold that you couldn’t stand to be out, so you grabbed a blanket and set it in the clearing near the market, under a big tree. The septa’s rarely bothered you these days, so you should be able to get some peace and quiet.

Not that you got too far before something else caught your eye.

You had only been reading your book for a short time when you heard the familiar sing-songy tone of your sister’s voice, followed unsurprisingly by the nasally pitch of Prince Joffrey.

They were to be married following this trip, and you knew she was excited. You could tell by the way she skipped lightly as she walked, and how she hung on his every word.

You had never been in love yourself, but you had to imagine that was what it looked like. Perhaps that was why you found yourself watching them as they walked, or maybe it had more to do with the Hound, loyal as always, who was trailing behind them steadily.

He was an interesting man, you’d decided.

Even as he walked, he studied the world around him as if he wasn’t a part of it, rather that he was peering in at it from the outside. You felt that you could relate, in some way, as you had always been that way.

They’d chastised you for being a dreamer as a girl. The Septa would take your books and keep them from you, your mother would beg you to engage in your duties as a lady and even Robb and Theon teased you.

Your head was always far away and even now, you had managed to keep it that way. While other women your age married and had heirs for unimpressive Lords, you remained in your father’s homeland.

A place where you could keep your books and your dreams, without having to endure the ugliness.

Not that ugliness was really the problem in the first place.

You were certain that some found the Hound ugly in all his violence and impropriety, but you couldn’t dare count yourself among them. Even now, as you stared at him over your bound paper novel, you saw nothing short of a dream like all the others.

It wasn’t even something you could truly understand, if you had any desire to try. There was just a softness to him, a quiet contemplation that made you feel as if no harm would ever come to you.

That wasn’t a feeling you’d known before now, as that was one of the things the North had never really had. Your father and brothers would rather die than let something or someone hurt you, you knew that, but it wasn’t so simple.

The comfort his presence held went beyond any physical threat or danger, it was almost warm.

Not that you would have ever ventured to admit it.

After all, you had never even spoken to the man and if you tried to explain the way you were feeling to anyone, they would surely have you committed. The hound was a lot of things, but none would have called him warm.

None outside of you that was.

You continued your staring for quite some time, only occasionally looking away from the sight before you to mindlessly turn the page in your book. You imagined you may have sat there all evening if you remained uninterrupted.

However, when your attention returned to the imposing form of the King’s dog across the way to find him already looking at you, the illusion fell away entirely.

Surely he thought you were demented.

In the entire time he and the King’s guard had been in Winterfell, you had yet to speak a word to a one of them but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with you. Every time he turned around, he found you sitting somewhere over his shoulder, that same book perched in your lap.

Anyone else may have just brushed you off, assuming you were a bit out there as your family always had, but Sandor couldn’t quite do that.

After all, he had grown used to the weary glances and fearful whispers between people as he passed, but no one had ever paid him so much mind as you seemed to be.

Naturally he was curious.

No one had voluntarily spent that much time looking at him in all his life, and he needed to know what it was about you that was different.

You tensed the moment you noticed his attention, not daring to look away from the weathered pages beneath your fingers, not when you heard him nearing where you sat and certainly not when he stopped at your side.

Neither of you spoke, and you weren’t even sure if you drew a single breath, but he certainly did as he waited. Waited for what he wasn’t sure, but it just seemed to be the thing to do.

As if you would somehow explain yourself if he stood in your presence long enough.

Though, after a long moment passed between you without so much as a glance from you, he decided to just end the torment for you both.

There would be no sense in just standing here all evening.

“Why do you stare so much?” he wondered aloud, his voice just as gruff as it always was, though you caught something else hidden there too. Just beneath the surface, hiding beneath the walls he’d built hugh within himself.

It almost sounded like a sort of nervousness, though you would have imagined him incapable of something so common.

You didn’t answer at first.

Whether it was due to the humiliation of being caught that held your tongue or the nerves of facing down such an imposing man on your own, he wasn’t sure. All Sandor knew for sure was that this was one of the strangest interactions he’d ever had.

If only he knew.

The real reason for your silence wasn’t some twisted interest or shame but because there was no real answer at all. At least not one you’d confidently admit while those brown eyes had you locked in a stare.

You hadn’t meant it to be disrespectful, of course, because the nature of your admiration couldn’t be farther from distaste. However, to a man like Sandor, that was exactly what it looked like.

…What it felt like.

Naturally, after a life of rejection, Sandor assumed that your staring was like that of every else when they looked at him. He assumed you were disgusted by him, and his grotesque face, or perhaps that you were afraid.

He hoped you weren’t afraid.

In any case, he never could have imagined that you would answer him in the way you did, even if it took you a moment to summon the courage to string any words together at all.

“I suppose I’m interested in you” you decided finally, twisting your face up slightly at the way that must have sounded.

It wasn’t quite right, of course, though it wasn’t entirely wrong either.

You were interested in him, but that seemed too simply a phrasing, like all the gravity and sentiment was missing even still.

Sandor only grunted in reply after a brief pause, his gaze drifting across the market, watching as the surrounding northerners studied your interaction, only to drop their eyes when they met his.

They all feared him, and they were right too, because they understood what he was and what he was capable of. Though, maybe that was another thing that you had done since he arrived that was unique to you.

Never once had you looked away from him.

You had never shrunk away or grimaced as they did, even at a time like this when anyone else would have run for the hills. It was certainly new, even he couldn’t be so stubborn as to ignore that.

“What’s so interesting about me?” he wondered, not daring to move closer or join you as you sat, but not moving further away either. Even though it felt wrong to speak freely with an unmarried noble woman like you, it really wasn’t.

You certainly didn’t think so, and you believed that anyone else would agree.

If anything, you were simply making conversation while he did his duty, watching over the Prince and his future bride.

Now, it was your turn to pause, regarding the words on the page only a moment more before you closed it, and discarded it in the snowy grass.

“We don’t have men like you here,” you allowed, considering his imposing frame as he stood above you.

Though you had only seen him from afar until now, at his impressive height and with your current low position, Sandor seemed even larger than he had before. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be frightened by him, which had to have been because he wasn’t frightening in the first place.

The rest of the realm may have treated him like a monster but you hardly believed that made him one.

You could tell in the way he glanced down at you, surprise painting his features, that he wanted to argue with you but he faltered, because he didn’t understand. He wanted to tell you that there were violent men everywhere, and that most were just better at hiding it, but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what you meant.

No matter how diluted that may have made you seem in the moment.

“Gentle,” you clarified, watching as his mind tried to pin down exactly what you were trying to say, because the most obvious answer just wasn’t possible. “Men here are all the same. They’re either ruthless fighters or cowards and fools. On rare occasions, they may be both but neither are gentle as you are”

That was it.

There were the words you had been trying to find before, but it still didn’t feel as if he understood, or perhaps he just didn’t feel as if you had any right to be the one saying them.

After all, you had only ever been in the North and you hardly knew anything about him, or many other men for that matter. What real ground did you have to stand on when it came to this?

“Trust me little girl, there’s nothing gentle about a man like me” he scoffed, washing away any tenderness you’d been feeling in a moment.

Perhaps he was right, but you didn’t think so.

While it was true that there were no other men like him in the North, you had seen your fair share of guarded men hiding from the truth about themselves. Normally they were trying to convince themself that they were braver than they were, or stronger, but it looked the same.

It made them look small.

“It’s in your eyes. You think I can’t see it because you don’t, but it’s there. It’s the same reason you’re still having this conversation with me, even though the Prince snuck off with Sansa” you countered, gesturing to the missing space they’d previously occupied through the pass.

If he’d truly been keeping an eye on them, and nothing more, he wouldn’t have let them out of his sight.

“Maybe I just want to know what’s wrong with you? After all, I thought the future Lady of Winterfell would be a bit more sociable” he argued, almost poking fun at you in a way you hadn’t seen coming.

Which was a welcome break in that untouchable armor of his.

“I am hardly the future Lady of Winterfell. That title will belong to the wife of my brother Robb,” you informed, gathering your skirts to rise to your feet, only to find his hand outstretched to you, a further invitation behind the curtain.

You took it as gracefully as you could and rose to your full height, though you remained entirely dwarfed by the large man at your side.

“And I have never really taken to being sociable, that’s true. It’s my mother’s greatest upset” you teased, straightening out your gown and taking in the full sight of the Hound in all his glory.

He looked small, if that was even physically possible, as you admired him with those eyes of yours. If you thought his gaze was pointed, you had no idea how he felt beneath the heavy weight of your own.

“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” he grumbled, his question hanging in the air untouched for a moment as you studied him, no longer caring how strange it may have looked to anyone else.

You had been right.

He was anything but ugly up close, and it was a tragedy that so few got to gaze upon him in this manner.

“I suppose. Perhaps that’s why I remain unmarried” you suggested, subconsciously hinting at what you knew to be your own greatest flaw, at least in the eyes of your people and your house.

At the very least, the Hound had been able to make something of himself outside of being a husband or son. He could be a warrior, and he was, one of the most fearsome warriors you’d ever seen.

As a woman, you had never been afforded that kind of privilege and you never would. As far as your mother was concerned, you would live and die a spinster, and there was little you could do to change that.

“Perhaps. Or maybe this place really is full of cowards and fools, as you said” he muttered, sparing you one more heady glance before turning his back to you, his attention fully on the clearing ahead.

That was it.

In all the days you’d been admiring him and making a desperate attempt to understand exactly what lay beneath that shell of his, that was all he had for you.

…and you couldn’t have been happier, because for the first time in a long time, you found yourself looking forward to what the days ahead would hold.

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theealbatross · 3 months

Text

a habit to kick, an age old curse (s.s)

Plot | They're no longer friends unfortunately they're still soulmates.

or, you and Sebastian are now strangers but at your most vulnerable moment he picks up the pieces. Only he knows. Only he can.

Tags | angst, heartbreak, when you're too depressed to confess, sebastian and the bad bitch he pulled by being stupid, sebastian is an academic weapon if he wants to, mentions of fire torture, murder (self-defense), trauma, emotional cheating (if u squint), slight fluff as a treat, panic attack, PTSD, Anne is dead, 3k-ish of angst

[A/N: Stream 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie for full immersion.]

Quidditch Season was important for every student in Hogwarts but it was the after-parties that everyone was truly looking forward to, house pride aside.

Which is what exactly Garreth had been barred from. “I can’t believe I wasn’t given an invitation just cause I’m friends with you! I’m not even a Slytherin! And I make the best punches!”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, sighing. Even he didn’t think those pesky Ravenclaws would take their competition this seriously. It all started when he had finally decided to become an auror, after a peaceful, distraction-free year and careful deliberations from each of his professors, he was given the informal encouragement that he was one of the few students who had the potential to become a trainee to such a prestigious program. With his ever-growing physique and indisputable intellect, it would simply be a question of effort.

He just needed to be at the top of all the classes required of him. This was the tragic news for all those Ravenclaw dreams – once Sebastian had his sights on it, it was as good as his.

He hadn’t expected that their ire of him extended to his friends. Even refusing to invite them to the first party of the year that the Ravenclaw had won against the Hufflepuffs. Sebastian had half the mind to join his own House’s quidditch team even with his packed schedule just so he could wipe the floor with them. It would be worth never sleeping again.

“What do you want me to do Gar –”

“Here.”

A piece of paper hung from above him, the hand it was hanging from was connected to a face he hadn’t seen this closely in a long, long time. Even the whisper of her name in his mouth felt foreign – a tragic circumstance when a lifetime ago she had been a kindred soul.

Before he could say anything else, Garreth had already snatched the paper from in-between his eyes. “Is this – Really?!”

“The password for today’s party, try to sneak in when the ‘guards’ are smashed,” she grinned at the redhead. Then, Sebastian felt a cold blade slice through his chest (a hand suspiciously touching the spot just to check) when she looked back down at him again. “For old time’s sake.”

It took him a moment too long to realize she was talking to him too. But his tongue felt heavy and stuck, the metaphorical rug under his feet getting pulled out when he least expected it.

He nodded.

“See you around.”

He stared as she waltzes gracefully from the bustling crowd, getting roped into a hug by her boyfriend, William Frey, the bloody captain of the Ravenclaws. When he had heard about it, he couldn’t quite point out why he hated his smug, pretty face but then, using his blessed brain he got his bitter answer: they were too damn perfect together.

He was everything she deserved.

Smart, popular, kind, and comes from a good family that will be able to support her in whatever endeavors she might be up to in the future.

Not an orphaned criminal who couldn’t even save her sister.

The state of their friendship – or lack thereof – was pitiful but he knew it was for the better. Without each other in the way she can be loved by all those around her – something he has never been able to offer with his murky history that left a rubble of a man. And without her he can forget about his failures and mistakes, distract himself with as much schoolwork as he can cram in his head and never remember the times he sacrificed their friendship for his own gain only to lose it all anyways.

If he doesn’t see her then he can forget – he failed and his twin sister is dead.

A brilliant witch with a brilliant future didn’t deserve to be associated with failures.

“That was tense,” William whispered in your ears as he led you towards the courtyard. “A friend of yours?”

A flash of the lives you’ve lived with the Slytherin flashed before your eyes. Friends, what a lowly name.

You faked a smile, fighting every urge in your body to look back.

“A long time ago.”

The party was loud, no doubt the quidditch players were milking any taste of victory they have before they deal with whoever wins between the Slytherins and Gryffindor’s next week.

The music was loud, nearly pounding through the silencing charms in the walls of the common room. William at the thick in all of it, celebrating with his teammates, not forgetting to wave at you in your seat with that charming smile that usually makes you swoon.

However, it was the charmed fireworks all over the ceiling that had your heart exploding out of your chest. Flashes of nightmares at every pop.

The dark forest, the ruined castle, the ropes in your stretched out hands as Rookwoods men threw all sort of fiery spells at you as target practice.

You pinched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to focus on breathing.

When you were starting to get dizzy you knew it wasn’t working. You tried to push through the crowd, reach your boyfriend somehow and at least let him know what was going on but it was impossible. It was the peak of the party when everyone was too drunk to do anything but drink more and dance more. With a shuddering breath, you instead skirted around the crowd and escaped narrowly through the doors of the Ravenclaw common room.

Not even bothering with a disillusionment spell, knowing damn well all the prefects would be in the party, you ran to the nearest floo to travel to your common room.

However, even the silence and comfort of the top of the common room wasn’t enough to ground you as you stumbled straight down the cold tiles, a yelp escaping your mouth from the sting of your skin.

“Someone there?”

That voice, distant but familiar. Painfully familiar. Your eyes continue to blur as your breath hastened, your limbs too weak, and the cold floor too damn comfortable for your overheating body.

“Are you alright?” He’s closer now, at the bottom of the stairs.

No, no, no.

In your desperation, you swallowed your pride. Forgetting in the moment how humiliated you will be to be seen by the last person in your house you wanted to show this side of you.

He would take care of you.

He always takes care of you.

“Sebastian,” you could barely croak out in between your gasps. Silence followed and you whimpered, crawling down to the edge of the top of the stairs when you heard fast footsteps ascending and there he was.

“Fucking hell, what happened to you?!”

Before you could try to say anything else you were already carried in his arms, Sebastian’s panic at seeing someone that was always so shiny and untouchable on a daily basis gasping and writhing in their common room floor was something he had not prepared himself to see tonight.

He thought the worst would be drunk seniors he would have to haul up their rooms not his … not you.

Carefully, he placed you on the nearest couch, your grip in his arms painful but welcome as it grounded him and prevented him from rattling when he saw your pale face covered with sweat and tears.

“Pet, you gotta help me here, what’s going on?! What do you need?!”

His eyes plotted your face, firm hands frantically running across your body to check for any stain of blood or hints of the source of your pain. It was agonizingly intimate, especially with the knowledge of how much this has happened in the past – one of you writhing in pain, the other doing their darndest to fix it.

A shot of pain pierced your chest when you suddenly breathed in, making you cry out and crawl into his arms.

Your calming medicine – it was in your bedside table. However, it was no use, like blood was not reaching your brain and all you know to do is to just hold on to Sebastian.

“Fuck!”

In a blink, your face was buried in Sebastian’s neck, the entirety of your curled up body tightly held together by him as he sat you in his lap, arms wrapped protectively around your body. “Breathe with me,” he whispers, taking deep slow puffs and caressing your hair. “That’s it, deep breathes. Follow me, darling. Enough with your crying now, listen to my voice.”

In. Out. The clean scent of the common room, faint sweet smell of his favorite tea.

In. Out. The sweat on his skin, the cologne he had worn since the first day you met him.

In. Out. Old books, fresh parchment, thick ink, and the throbbing aroma of the Amortentia you brewed last week.

“Hey,” you could feel the sweat start to cool your skin, his rough hand worked on your cheeks as he continued to cradle you in his arms. His body relaxing with yours until you could take up air on your own. “What hap –”

“What in Merlin’s … did you do this?”

You stared up in wonder, the two of you surrounded by a large bubble, the ones you usually see when you throw a Protego, except this one continued to enclose you. Now that your panic has passed you realize you can’t hear anything else but … the sound of water?

He looked shy, rubbing the back of his neck as he settled you back on the couch. It was only then you realized that you had been in his lap this entire time. You hoped the dim light of the common room hid the embarrassment in your face. “It’s … something I’ve made. Helps me sleep at night. What you’re hearing is the sounds under the Black Lake. I’m gonna write a paper on it for Ronen, should get me a couple of points.”

Ah, his valiant academic conflict with the Ravenclaws did not escape even you. They’re going to fucking curse him in their sleep when they realize he was a lap ahead of his competition.

Now that your vision wasn’t doubling you could faintly see a golden string that connected from the bubble, straight through the tall glass window of the common room. “Sebastian, this is brilliant.”

A flare of nervousness lodged in your chest when Sebastian suddenly looked at you– the gaze that let you know that he could see right through you. He always saw right through you – you’d grown to hate it.

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

He was a gentleman – always had been. It could be the fact that he had (has? is it too soon?) a sister that he was so well-versed in the heart of a lady. But aside from that – Sebastian, at some point in time, was someone who knew the most. And the gods’ honest truth is you never could hide a secret from him.

It could be the alcohol in your system or the buried instinctive nature to tell him everything back when the two of you spent late nights in the Room of Requirement and talked about everything being unearthed but you felt like being honest. Even if the boy beside you had grown into a stranger.

“I’m … remember when I got kidnapped by … and you …”

And you saved me.

Again. Always.

He was there, charging headfirst, ignoring Professor Fig’s warnings and Ominis’ pleas to wait for the Aurors in Hogsmeade. When he arrived, he saw the burn marks, bruises, and wounds all over your body and just saw red … and left red.

“The Rookwood incident?”

By the time back up had arrived the two of you were slumped on each other and surrounded by corpses, eyes blank and suspicious, desperately holding on to each other.

“The Rookwood incident,” you nodded. “What I didn’t tell you is that before you had arrived, they had been … they tied me and threw fire spells at me, that’s where I got my wounds. I never told you because –”

He was too angry. And you were too terrified of pushing your closest friend to the darkness he had been tethering on. Not that it mattered, he fell right to that cliff on his own.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, hands shaking in front of you. “No, Seb, it’s not like tha –”

“I know you were trying to protect me. You always were,” he shook his head, now it was him who couldn’t look at you. “How many scars did I give you?”

“I healed just fine –”

“Then let me rephrase my question, “ This time, the look in his eyes terrified you. The intensity, the guilt – it was so palpable you almost want to cup his face the way you used to, to ease his cruel burden. “How many of these nightmares have I cursed you with?”

Your silence made his bitter smile grow. You don’t have to say it because he (always) knows – the worst nightmares were the ones with him in it.

“Does … does he know about it?”

You nodded, “He does. William tried to help, sent me to the best mind doctors last summer but … I’m just so tired. I’m tired of the tests, the probing in my brain – he means well, I know he does but there’s nothing those strangers can tell me that I don’t already know.”

With an understanding expression on his face, the two of you sat in silence, staring at the large windows hovering over the two of you as the deep quiet of the lake echoed in the fragile haven he had conjured up. If you close your eyes, if you forget about everything else, you could almost trick you mind that these was one of those good times.

That you’d turn and find him buried in between towers of books you had borrowed from the library and Ominis would be sleeping against the wall of the Undercroft. And then you’d catch his eyes and he would smile – a silent message between two people who didn’t need to speak to communicate – and the silence would stretch, just like this, but you would be together again.

“I could teach you.”

You raised an eyebrow and despite himself he chuckled. He didn’t have the best history with teaching you spells, after all. “This charm, I mean.”

How many cures has been shoved in your throat? How many disappointments you hid in lies that, yes the Calming Elixir cures me of such flaws. Did you need any more help? Would it fix you this time?

“It won’t fix anything but it might ..” he shrugged. “… make tomorrow easier.”

You’re terrified of him, you realize. How can someone know you so deeply without ever even realizing it? Does he know? The power he has over you? How you would’ve burned your life to the ground if he had asked for it?

Ask, you wanted to scream. Ask. Ask. Ask.

“Alright,” He seemed surprised, you smiled at the face he made. “Couldn’t hurt.”

For all his nonchalance it was a complicated charm to cast. “No, it has to be more than half a circle when you swish it –”

This was familiar. A bit more awkward and with a lot more strain but it was familiar – if all had gone well this would have been just an unremarkable day in your life. You can’t help but wonder if your burden would be lighter if he was the one helping you carry it.

You swallowed your thoughts back down, no sense in dreaming of different realities now. Because this was your life and the worst thing that could possibly happen did happen. So, you’ll take all that you can get – even if it’s just one last night pretending everything didn’t slip out of your hands.

“No, here, let me guide you,” When Sebastian was in his ‘professor mode’ as you and Ominis used to tease him for, he gets so focused on teaching that he doesn’t notice anything else, doesn’t even notice your gasp as he wrapped an arm around your back, grasping the hand with your wand and helping you trace the shape needed to cast the spell. “And the word is ‘Salus.”

Salus. Safety. Salvation.

That’s who he was. Your Sebastian. “Salus.”

On cue, a bubble surrounded the two of you once again, the white noise of the castle replaced by the deep lake’s groans. “Perfect.”

Despite the time you spend learning all sorts of complicated magic, it never takes away the quick flutter of your chest in excitement at every spell you master. “I did it!” You turned to be Sebastian but he was already looking at you.

You’ve always told him if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought Sebastian was the true heir of Slytherin. He just fits here – in the dim lights, and emerald furniture, and the coldness that emphasizes just how warm he is. “… beautiful.”

“What?” He was staring, his hooded gaze, the freckles you had always wanted to trace into constellations, the part on his lips that teases your skin with his breath.

“Your technique is beautiful.” He’s lying, you don’t catch it. Suddenly, your half-pinned hair fell apart, Sebastian having pulled away the clip holding it away from your face. “Now, lay down.”

His arms were gentle and firm as they guided you to lay across the wide couch, Sebastian having scooted down to sit on the floor, face in front of yours. He’s so close. “Sleep.”

You hope he knows, that if your sleep remains dreamless tonight and if your tomorrow is easier, it’s not because of his painfully complicated spell. Your eyes waver, the edges of your sight dimming and blurring. You feel a touch on your cheek, you try to chase it. The last thing you see is his deep brown eyes and the soft smile that had been the biggest curse he had unknowingly laid on you.

He has to know, right?

You have to tell him.

Sebastian, I’ve always – I still – I never stop –

“Hey, wake up.”

Your eyes split open, another ghost of your past in front of you. “Ominis?”

The noise slowly trickled as you became more aware, eyes shifting to you, some out of curiosity why you picked the couch as a resting place instead of your bedroom a few feet away or some that saw you in the party that held some pity, probably thinking you’re suffering the worst hangover of your life.

“William Frey is looking for you by the door,” he muttered sharply. It’s been a while since you and Ominis interacted, his tattered friendship with Sebastian extending to your own as the boy’s most loyal comrade in his pursuit of destruction. You know he lays a blame you and for that you couldn’t blame him. “Honestly, I had thought you had grown out of your foolish habit of sleeping everywhere.”

“I-I’m … sorry?”

He shook his head before turning to leave.

Had … had everything been a dream?

You looked around suspiciously, for what you weren’t quite sure. A sign? A pillow out of place that could be evidence that last night happened?

It wasn’t mere delusion, you were sure. The knowledge of the spell in your head evidence enough of the small moment you shared with an old friend last night but it would be nice to have some sort of proof. A tangible confirmation that you could keep with you as you return to your reality.

With a sigh you let your disappointment fester for a second longer, locking last night in the deepest part of your heart, one that can only be unearthed once again in your loneliest nights.

A practiced smile cements on your face, turning to the chair one last time to allow yourself one more moment of hesitation before going up the stairs.

Back to the beautiful boy who will only see the beautiful parts of you and leaving the one who gets the honor of keeping the shadows.

Inside the boy’s dormitory Sebastian stares at the stolen emerald clip on his bedside table.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

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obeymelucigirlie · 21 days

Text

A pact with Lucifer

Obey Me

Pairing: Lucifer x f!mc (reader)

Content warning: Explicit (NSFW/ Smut)

Summary: Lucifer agrees to make a pact with you in lesson 20... and takes you to his room to make you his.

You hear the faint sound of jazz from the cursed record wafting from the study.

Lucifer.

He’s the only one who hasn’t shown up at your impromptu farewell party. Your chest tightens with a pang of sudden sadness. Your last night in this crazy world. With these silly, loveable brothers who have changed your life for the better. If only you could stay…

You should rejoin the others. They’ll worry, come looking if you take too long. Mammon will freak out and call for a search party. But still, you feel an urge to check in on Lucifer.

You knock softly.

“Come on in.”

Lucifer is seated in his favorite chair, a glass of demonus in hand, eyes closed, enjoying the soft melody.

“It sounds like quite the party up in the attic. Since everyone else is busy up there, I get to enjoy my music in peace. Come, join me for a while.”

You take the other seat by the fireplace, enjoying his calming presence. Such a drastic change from the boisterous party roaring a few stories above.

He finally glances your way.

“Have you completed all that you set out to do here in the Devildom? No unfinished business? Loose ends?”

You consider him, then. This proud, detached man. The hardest to read of the seven brothers. He’s kept his walls up all year. How does he feel about you? Will he miss you at all?

You know you’ll miss him, perhaps most out of all of them…

You gather your courage and bring up the topic that’s been eating at you these past few days.

“Well, I still haven’t made a pact with you.”

Lucifer sits up in his chair, giving you a cold, calculating look.

“A pact, you say? I see. You’ve made pacts with all my brothers, which just leaves me…”

He stands up and stalks close to your chair, gazing down at you with his severe, crimson eyes.

“Do you really want to make a pact with me? Truly? I don’t know how my brothers felt about their decisions, but I am more than a name to be crossed from your list. I can’t have you lumping me together with everyone else. That won’t do.”

Lucifer transforms into his demonic form, looming over you menacingly. You gaze up at him, standing your ground. You’ve seen this side of him too often now to be frightened. Deep down, you know he won’t hurt you.

“You aren’t going to run? You’ve certainly got guts, don’t you? I’ve always found that aspect of you both irritating and endearing. Now, listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me. So, what will it be? Will you make a pact with me?”

Your breath catches at the sudden change in his tone, the possessiveness. You’ve never seen this side of him before.

He gazes down at you in his demonic form, his look both terrifying and heated.

You bite your lip, pondering. You’ve been dying to make a pact with him, make him yours, all year. Now this turn of events.

Lucifer wanting to make you his.

“Yes, I’ll make a pact with you.”

“… Good. Then it’s done. As of this moment, you are mine.”

You feel a sudden, intense connection with the demon. The turmoil of repressed emotions within him. His affection towards you, which he's tried to fight for so long. An intense desire. He wants you, needs you.

He must be sensing your emotions too, as his lips curl into a knowing smirk. He tilts his head, assessing.

“Does that takes care of all your loose ends?”

You return the smirk, slowly rising from the chair to stand face to face with the demon.

“There’s still one more.”

“Is there now?”

You place your hands on his warm chest and rise on your toes, tenderly kissing him. His lips are so soft, so inviting. He wraps his strong arms around you, returning the kiss with a wild passion.

“I’ve always known you wanted to do this. And I know what you’d like to do next as well.”

The demon smirks in-between his fiery kisses, a heated, hungry look in his crimson eyes.

“We’re heading straight to my room." He kisses you ravenously. 'You’re going to spend your last night in the Devildom with me…"

Lucifer trails wet kisses down your neck, sucking gently, whispering in his husky, gravely voice," all night long, until the break of dawn."

A shiver runs down your spine.

He kisses along your collarbone, "I’m not letting anyone else have you now… You’re mine.”

Your eyes go wide, you can't prevent a small moan from escaping as his words strike you to your core. You want - no, you need him to make you his.

He doesn't wait on a response. You agreed to the pact after all. And you know he can feel your desire. He relishes it. That you chose him out of his brothers, to spend your last night in the devildom in his arms.

Lucifer gathers you in his arms and strides across the hallway into his spacious room.

The moment the door closes he’s on you, all wild with want, pulling at your clothes, not caring as he tears at the clasps and buttons in his pressing need to feel your naked skin against his.

Lucifer captures your mouth in a heated kiss, grasping your hips, pulling you flush against his arousal, his hands exploring, caressing, squeezing. Needing to feel all of you. Now.

You moan as heat pools within your belly, his scent, caresses, his powerful body driving you mad with desire. You pull at his clothes, and he helps you, peeling his shirt off and unbuckling his pants as he pulls you towards the bed.

Once he’s naked in front of you, you pull back, taking him in. He’s beautiful. All chiseled, perfect, angelic beauty. And so very hard for you. You trail your fingertips along his chest, feeling his muscles tense under your touch, enjoying his reaction as you slowly move down, stroking his cock.

“Hmm… that’s it, yes… this feels so good.”

Lucifer coos, caressing your face, biting his lips at the intense pleasure.

You smirk and kneel before the demon, daintily placing your lips around his cock. He’s so big, so thick, but you want to please him, so you open wider, working through your gag reflex. His eyes go wide as you take him in, slowly, letting him feel your lips sliding around him, every swirl of your tongue. He moans and threads his hands into your hair, pulling, tugging lightly, begging you to take more of him, coaxing, all desperate need now.

“Oh, yes, just like that… hmm you take it so good my little lamb.”

He hums and coos, caressing your cheek, your hair whenever you choke slightly as he hits the back of your throat. You pick up the pace, relishing in his moans and encouragements.

It turns you on, seeing him like this, the avatar of pride, undone, at your mercy. Only for you. Only in the confines of your shared intimacy.

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

And he comes undone, grabbing the back of your head roughly as he fully sheathes his thick cock in your mouth, calling out your name, spurting deep down your throat. You do your best to swallow every last drop of his salty seed, licking your lips as you gaze up at him under your lashes.

Lucifer looks down upon your puffy, tear-stained face. He smiles tenderly, trailing a finger along your swollen lips.

“Hmm… now that was delightful.”

“Glad I could please you.”

You smirk, wiping at your eyes as Lucifer pulls you onto the bed and covers you with his weight, his intense heat. You desperately grab onto his neck, his hair, tugging, pulling, needing his soft lips on yours. He growls as he kisses you deeply, moaning as he tastes himself on your tongue.

He caresses you, running his hands and mouth, his hot tongue along your body, taking his time to pleasure you, delighting in the sighs and moans he elicits as he maps out your body, committing it to memory. Finding all the spots that drive you crazy. Make you cry out to him. He drives you insane as he kisses and sucks, leaving marks all over you, making sure you – and everyone else – knows you are his.

“Lucifer, please…”

“Please what?” He asks huskily, grinding against your heat in a delicious torture.

“I need you.”

You moan, grabbing at his silky raven hair, to gaze into his eyes, burning with desire.

“You’re so impatient. I did tell you we had until the break of dawn.”

He smirks, pressing his throbbing cock against you, rubbing himself against your clit, teasing, pressing the tip inside your slick folds in a tortuous caress.

“Lucifer… stop teasing…”

You growl as he captures your lips in a ravenous kiss.

“I will do as I please with you, my impatient little lamb… Remember...”

There’s a dangerous glint in his crimson eyes as he enters you, sharply.

“… you’re mine.”

You gasp at the sudden sensation of fullness, as your body struggles to adjust to him. He starts a wild rhythm, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you over and over, his cock stretching you almost painfully. But it feels so, so good. You pant and moan as your body overheats, every cell in your body responding to his every touch, his ravenous kisses. His forceful thrusts deep into your core.

You urge him on, biting down onto his shoulder and earning a satisfying groan. He kisses you demandingly. The rougher he gets, the more intense your desire. He moves sharply and quickly. Every movement perfectly designed to drive you wild with pleasure. You moan loudly into his lips.

“Lucifer…”

You are completely and wholly lost to the demon as he possesses your body with a wild abandon. Tethering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You feel yourself coming undone, Lucifer’s powerful thrusts pushing you into the mattress, dominating you so completely. Your bodies, slick with sweat, connecting so perfectly.

Lucifer feels your desperation.

He smirks as he whispers in your ear: “That’s it, come undone for me.”

“Lucifer…”

You moan loudly as you careen into a delicious state of bliss, your body shaking uncontrollably. You grab onto his strong body, trying desperately to stay grounded in reality. You can feel him finally letting go, thrusting deep into your core with a strangled groan of his own.

“Hmm…. That was…”

The demon gives you a cocky grin, “I know.”

Lucifer pulls you into his arms, kissing you lightly.

"You did good my little lamb." He coos, gently removing sticky, sweaty strands of hair from your forehead.

You smile a tired, satisfied grin as you try to catch your breath.

His hands trail down your back in light caresses as he lets you recover from the mind-blowing orgasm. You sigh with pleasure as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

His hands slowly wander further south, and you moan as he caresses your overly sensitive, overstimulated clit. You gasp as he slips one finger, then two, into your slick folds.

“Lucifer!”

“What part of until dawn haven’t you understood yet?”

He smiles devilishly as he replaces his fingers with his already throbbing cock.

Comments & reblogs appreciated 💛

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lilbitdepressed27 · 5 months

Text

Jenna Ortega x Fem!CopReader

Summary: you are a cop and Jenna's girlfriend

Warnings: fluff, angst

WC: 2.8k

Author's note: hope y'all like it sorry for any mistakes:)

Jenna lived a very busy life. From her schedule going from barely busy to being offered rolls for every possible roll she could dream of. She knew accepting the roll of Wednesday was going to either make her or break her career. She knew accepting such a popular roll would bring her more attention. It had become rare when she had free time. From all the filming she'd have to do, to all the interviews and photo shoots. It had been so exhausting. Physically and mentally. There were moments where she'd cry herself in to a panic.

There had been only one person who could calm her down. And that was her girlfriend of two years and half. One call from her was enough to calm her down. Just to hear her girlfriend's voice was enough, even when she was thousands of miles away. She truly did love her job, there was nothing else she'd rather do. But there was moments where she wished it didn't take so much of a toll on her.

But the moment she was offered a moment of peace she'd hurry back to L.A. Like how she was right now, she was only a few minutes away from her shared home. Although she knew her girlfriend was still working. She couldn't wait to surprise you. You had no clue she was coming home today.

She'd never forget the first time she met you. The way you looked in your uniform was a sight that had her feeling like she was drooling. Seeing you in you uniform never got old. She remembers the day she first saw you like it had been yesterday.

The police had been called on to the set due to a fight breaking out between two crew members. She remembered the day clearly. How two cops had shown up, one being a tall white man. He had been an attractive man she won't deny it but nothing had prepared her for the tall woman that followed behind him. Never had she seen someone so attractive, so breath taking. The way your arms flexed when you had to physically restrain one of the crew members.

The moment her eyes connected with yours, it felt like it was love at first sight. Something she had never believed in before that was until she saw you. The small smile you had shot her way had her heart racing. She knew in that moment, you'd be someone special in her life.

And she wasn't wrong.

Upon arriving at your house, she saw that your truck was not parked in its usual spot. She had hopped that you'd be home by now, but now she could surprise you when you got home. Thanking her driver as she got her bags and headed to the front door.

She couldn't wait to surprise you, she could only hope that you weren't in any more danger. She had her updates on you by one of your coworkers that was of a sister to you.

It had been a long day at work. After you got attacked by a few guys, after a stop gone wrong. To being involved in a shot out. All that had happened in the first five hours of your shift. You were sore and bruised. And just so tired. It was good thing your captain gave you the next three days off. You loved being a cop. It had been your dream job since you were a kid. But getting shot at was something you'd never get used to.

"Go rest L/n, you earned it. The last thing we need is for your girlfriend to be angry at us like last time. Who knew she could be so scary." Your friend Aaron who was also police officer joked.

"Hey don't underestimate the short latinas now Aaron."

You chuckled at the newest rookie. Celina was such a great change into the department. You knew she'd be a great cop.

"I'll see you guys later." You bid your goodbyes with a laugh. You really couldn't wait to get home. To lay on your bed and sleep. Well after talking to your girlfriend of course. You missed her a lot, FaceTiming wasn't enough nowadays. But it was the only thing letting you see her beautiful face. She had been away filming for the new season of Wednesday. With her no longer being in Scream 7. She a had bit more free time.

So with that in mind you hurried your way home. With L.A traffic it had taken a bit longer for you to get back home. Feeling relief once getting to your house. You hated coming home to an empty house, the times Jenna would be at home you were quick to get used to her being there. Your home felt so alive when she was home. So the times she was gone, the house felt so empty without her.

Shutting the door behind you, you were only two steps in when you froze in your tracks when you saw the back door open. As a muscle memory you went for your gun that was on your hip. But came back empty seeing as you showered and changed back in the station. Your personal weapon was in a safe, in your room. That was upstairs.

With your training coming at you, you were quiet as you made your way further into the house. Clearing every room you passed. Hoping that your training officer Harper's hand to hand combat would come in handy. There was noise coming from your gaming room. Even with your job, you still had time to game for a few minutes.

But if someone was in your gaming room. You knew they were most likely stealing. You had expensive equipment in there. Equipment you bought and other things Jenna bought you. The lights in the room were off, the only light in the room was coming from the hall. Meaning you could only see the figure of the intruder.

Using the wall as cover. They seemed small, easy enough for you hopefully to intimate them and if they react you could take them down. That's if they had no weapons.

"Police freeze, don't do anything stupid." Using your police voice. One of authority. You had to turn on the lights. Make sure they didn't have any weapons before you could fully come out of your cover.

"Mmm what are you going to do with me Officer."

"Jenna?" You turned on the light, smiling when you realized in fact it was your girlfriend who you hadn't seen in person the past four months. You had her in your arms in seconds. Your arms wrapping around her waist, lifting her off her feet. Her squeal was like a blessing in your ears. Her own arms wrapping themselves around your shoulder. Returning your hug just as tight.

The kiss that followed was filled with some love and so much more. You couldn't believe she was here with you. You couldn't believe that after four months she was back in your arms. The pain and soreness from your day was completely ignored, and honestly forgotten.

"God I missed you so much." You pulled away resting your forehead onto hers. With her legs wrapping around your waist you led her to your shared room. Hearing laughter as you continued to kiss all over her face.

"Put me down. I know you're bruised. Angela called me. Let me see you."

You should have known. The woman you work with, the ones you looked up to, they were more like sisters. Angela, Lucy and Nyla. They had grown fond of Jenna and you knew your girlfriend had grown a bond with them. So it was no surprise they told her about what happened today. With a sigh you took of your shirt. Revealing all your bruises and scraps.

You heard her gasp at the bruises.

"Hey I'm okay. Nothing I can't handle."

But she stayed looking at your bruises. Her fingers hovered over the bruises afraid of hurting you. Once she had heard what happened from Angela. She had been quick to try and call you. It was no surprise that you didn't answer. When she couldn't reach you, she had gone straight to the internet. Seeing the short videos of you being attacked. The way you were brutally assaulted by those men. It scared her how often you came close to dangerous situations.

"It still scares me. I don't want anything to happen to you."

You pulled her closer to you, wanting to comfort her in any way you could. "Baby look at me." Taking her cheeks into your hands, pulling her gaze away from your body to your eyes. Offering a gente smile.

"I can't promise that nothing will happen to me but I can promise that I'll try my very best to come back to you." Lightly placing pecks on her lips till you felt her smile.

"I know but ugh why can't you just work for me as my bodyguard or something." She complained as looked up at you, her hands creasing your bare lower back.

With a laugh you lead Jenna towards your shared room. "How about you tell me how filming went?"

"No how about you use that police voice, officer. I've been very bad."

It was good thing you had the next few days off. Seeing as you didn't get any sleep, the ache and soreness of the day was completely forgotten at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend's body.

"Oh my god you look so cute!" Jenna had put on the documentary you had been in. The documentary had been about a once famous celebrity, he's rolls had dried up, leading him into making cult of the students he was teaching.

It was a whole thing.

You were in a seat in your dress blues, you honestly looked awkward. "No I don't! I look like I'm constipated." You protested you didn't want to do the documentary in the first place. But your captain had kinda forced you. Seeing as you were one of the first cops to arrive on the scene.

"No you don't. Such sexy cop and you're all mine."

Her arm that was wrapped around your waist tighten. Her head was that had been resting on your chest was lifted as she looked up at you. Her eyes full with so much love.

"All yours." The smile you got return had you feeling like you won the lottery. Her smile was like a light in a dark room.

Lightly kissing you before pulling away to watch the parts of documentary you were in.

"Why can't we watch Wednesday? I was getting to the good part." You played with her long wavy hair. Gently scratching her skull, feeling the way her body basically melted on top of yours. You could tell she was tired. The way her eyes were fighting the sleep. A part of you wanted to take up her offer of being her bodyguard. You knew she struggled to sleep when she was busy. At least if you were with her. You could make sure she actually rests and take care of herself.

But you also loved your job. You had worked hard to be in the position you were in now. Not to mention the family you had found. You couldn't just leave them.

"You know I hate seeing myself on screen." Her finger traced random shapes on your bare stomach. Making sure not to hurt your bruises. Being back in your arms was everything she had wanted for the past months.

"But I love seeing you in action I-" You let out a laugh at the sight of her raised eyebrow, the suggestive smile she shot your way. "Stop, get your dirty mind out of there." The actress only let out a laugh, her smile only growing, it was a sight you loved dearly.

Jenna laid her head back down on your chest. Looking back at the television seeing you answering questions with your 'police officer' look. It was a look she found attractive, you looked so serious, so professional.

"Officer Y/ln, you've been an officer for three years now. Was this your craziest experience?"

She watched as you let out a short laugh, "Not even close. But this was one goes down as probably one the weirdest."

"Oh what was the craziest?"

"Mmh I don't-Oh! Tell them about the time a party mistook you and Bradford as strippers!" Was heard from behind the camera.

You had prepared yourself for the full on belly laugh the actress let out. You had once told her about that incident. You had never been so mortified and embarrassed in your life. Hearing the filming crew laugh had you chuckling as you clearly saw the blush on your own cheeks.

"Oh my god I can't believe Lucy brought that up."

"Me neither. Tim was pretty embarrassed as well."

The rest of the day was spent with Jenna in your arms. Taking advantage of the free day you both had. You couldn't ask for anything more.

"Just be safe okay?"

You were now back at work. The days you had off had passed way too fast. Your lovely girlfriend was still at your house enjoying her own free time. You were working the night shift for the next few days, along side your partner. Leaving for work had never been so hard. A part of you didn't want to leave Jenna's side. You had been so comfy laying on the couch with her before you had to get up and leave for work.

"Y/LN! Let's go, we have to question victims of a drive by."

And with that you were of to do your job.

The sun set and it had become dark out. The street lights came on, the streets empty, as faint sounds of yelling and gun shots rang out. The two officers trying their best to escape the suspects of the drive by they had been called to investigate further. With the ammunition quickly running low and their radios down they had no other option but to run from the suspected killers. Running into an apartment complex hoping they'd find someone that could help.

Jenna sat back on the couch watching the documentary you were in once again. She couldn't get over how attractive you looked on tv. While she waited for you to get from work, she made herself busy, by cleaning the house(which she didn't have to do much. You're a clean person.)

She also texted you. You always texted back. Even if the text was short. Most of your night shifts were always quiet. So you'd respond to her in full length texts. And when you were actually busy a simple thumbs up emoji would settle her nerves. But the last text she sent you was thirty minutes ago. By this point she would have gotten a simple emoji. But she was yet to receive anything. You hadn't even opened the text.

She couldn't help but to worry, her gut was telling her something was wrong. So she called one of your coworkers. Angela. Hoping the older woman could settle her nerves.

More gun shots rang out, the two officers had tried their best. Doing everything they could possibly do with the little ammunition they had left. Yet at the end it had not been enough. They were still out numbered.

Cutting through an alley had not been the smartest decision on the officers part but yet they had no choice. The only sound they could hear was of the dogs barking aggressively, the sound of their boots hitting the wet hard pavement and their heavy breathing.

Those criminals were out for blood and it was the exact thing they were getting. As they drove in from the other side of the alley successfully shooting one of the officers.

The shooting stopped as one of the officers successfully put down the two criminals. Their moment of relief quickly came crashing down at the sight of their partner on the floor.

The cries, the begging for their partner to stay down, to remain calm felt like they echoed. The cries for help as their partner chocked on their blood before going limp. Completely unaware of the criminals sneaking behind.

The officer noticed a moment too late, not being quick enough to reach their gun before the gun fire rang out once again.

It was two hours after she got off the phone with Angela when there was a knock on the door. She had moved quickly to reach the door. Swinging it open when she saw that it was Angela on the security cameras.

Angela didn't have to say anything. The look on her face said it all.

"No. No. No."

The cry was filled with denial, pain, heartache. The older woman could try to comfort the short actress. Although there was absolutely nothing she could do.

You were dead.

Gone.

#fem!reader #x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #x fem!reader

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phoenixkaptain · 1 year

Text

My favourite part of Dick Grayson as a character is that he is never afraid of Bruce.

Like, Jason has his fear of disappointing him, Tim is a bit intimidated and has his hero worship, Damian fears that Bruce’ll kick him out the way he thinks Talia did, but Dick?

Dick is so unconcerned about Bruce at every possible moment. Even the earliest comics had Dick calling Bruce lame to his face. Dick works with Bruce and his partner for years and they understand each other on a deep level and Dick multiple times calls Bruce a fucking square.

Dick does not tell Bruce anything. He does not write home. If Bruce wasn’t in the room with him when Dick got called to go somewhere, I’m pretty sure Dick would not have informed Bruce that he was even leaving, let alone where he was going. The Teen Titans joined the Peace Corps, they were in Washington for at least a few days being trained, and Bruce finds out that Robin joined the Peace Corps from a newspaper. Dick does not tell him anything.

Dick and Bruce have such a fascinating relationship to me because Dick really doesn’t treat Bruce as his dad so much as he treats him like a particularly obnoxious older brother. Bruce treats Dick like his little baby bird who he cares about and doesn’t want to get hurt, but Dick is over there like “ugh, Bruce is so overdramatic” while he nearly drowns for the fifth time.

In early Teen Titans, there’s no question that Robin is physically the weakest member. Aqualad and Wonder Girl both have super strength, Kid Flash’s speed means that he doesn’t need super strength, but Robin is by far the easiest to capture. He gets caught very consistently through the early issues, albeit people can only catch him if they take him off guard, but it’s a lot easier to catch him off guard in early comics. Robin is the brains of the group, the others look to him for direction and depend on him to make plans that will work and panic when Robin gets nabbed because what will they do without Robin??

Robin gets captured a lot in early Batman comics too. Robin is the ultimate damsel, but he’s never really in very much distress? Like, Bruce and the Teen Titans are distressed, but Robin just looks maybe a bit surprised and bored. Robin never seems to take his own mortality into account when he does things, meanwhile literally everyone else does.

Dick only ever really gets annoyed with Bruce. He bever gets mad at his teammates, even when they question his ability. For the most part, Dick doesn’t even respond when they underestimate him to his face. I have no idea what’s going on in Dick’s head, but he isn’t a part of Aqualad and Kid Flash finding each other and him annoying in their first team ups and he never gets upset when they don’t believe in him.

Then, on the other hand, Bruce calls the music Dick is listening to noise, and Dick immediately is annoyed. Dick and Bruce having a turbulent relationship is more apparent later on in the comics, but Bruce is truly the only one in all the galaxies who gets under Dick’s skin as much as he does.

And it’s funny because fandom likes to paint Dick as bitter that Bruce didn’t adopt him, while I think Dick would have blown his top if Bruce even tried to adopt him. Dick had parents, he never views Bruce as a parental figure. Don’t get me wrong, Dick loves Bruce. Bruce does so much for Dick and Bruce is protective of him and Bruce is open about his affection, but Dick just doesn’t view him as his father.

I really think Dick views Bruce as more like a guard dog than a father. He talks so casually to Bruce, but he’s more formal to other adults. He complains about Bruce not trusting him, but doesn’t care when his teammates don’t trust him either. He views the rich billionaire vigilante who can take down a god in a fight as fucking lame.

Their relationship is amazing. They get along great. They’re a perfect duo, they work in tandem, they’re absolutely unstoppable together. If Bruce talks too much Dick will roll his eyes. They trust each other with their life. Dick is never telling Bruce anything. Bruce says “I guess I can spare Robin for a minute” and Dick is like “I would be perfectly content to never return home for the rest of my days.”

Of all the Robins, Dick is absolutely the one who respects Bruce the least. He loves the guy, but he just canNOT take him seriously.

(Do you think it was the time Bruce sent a box of bats to someone? Or the times Bruce gets captured and has to be rescued by his damsel side-kick? Or the way Bruce is like an overprotective mother, coming this close to reminding Robin to wash behind his ears? Or the way Bruce lets Robin say whatever he wants and never gets upset or offended or even hurt?

Or, maybe, Batman tripped on his cape once, and Dick just can never forget.)

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fraugwinska · 5 months

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What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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theeoriginals · 4 months

Note

a Klaus fic with this gem from Ozark “look, I know I kissed you last night but I thought I was gonna fucking die”. Change to fit however you want 😘

the last thing i'd do | klaus mikaelson

author's note; whoever sent this im so sorry it's been in my inbox for seven months

warnings; hybrid!reader, mentions of violence, violence against reader, themes of death, klaus gets crazy :), then there's fluff, a bit of angst still sprinkled in, but there's a happy ending

It's a blood bath, is the thing.

She can't tell what blood is hers anymore, and the ache in her body has done nothing but grow steadily over the past ten minutes. It feels like it's been hours since it all started.

She doesn't remember who threw the first punch, just knows that someone had come at her and she had no choice but to fight back, fight for her life.

There's blood under her nails, and she thinks maybe some in her eyes because they're burning, but it might be the tears shining in them.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Klaus had, for once, been hoping for peace. He was always braced for a fight, but he'd truly been hoping for a painless, quick negotiation.

Of course, it's turned into the worst fight they've had in a while.

She's always been on Klaus's side of things; fights, family, life. She's always had her place here, carved out by none other than the Original Hybrid himself. She's never understood just what he saw in her that earned her this place, but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Some– most– call her loyalty a form of naivety. Perhaps the sire bond still lingering, despite the fact that she'd broken it years ago. His siblings call it blindness, or ignorance, in their harsher moments. Her friends, the few that happen to be immortal, too, think she's reckless and just asking for him to kill her. Klaus Mikaelson turns on everybody, eventually, they say. The paranoid, hybrid king trusts nothing and no one. He killed his parents, multiple times, and he's kept his siblings in and out of coffins for most of their immortal lives. Why would he ever enjoy the company of one of his sires?

She's never thought he was perfect. That's something people always get wrong. They think she sees no flaws in him, when really she sees them all for what they are, she sees him for who he really is. She still loves him.

Some days she thinks he knows how she feels for him. Sometimes she can't keep it out of her eyes, and he'll catch her looking at him and his eyes will narrow slightly, like he's warning her to contain it.

Other days, she thinks there's no way he knows, because if he knew the capacity of her adoration, he'd surely have to say something. Tell her to move on. Compel the feelings away, possibly. If he were that cruel to her.

She doesn't think he would be. Since that first day he found her in the woods with what was left of her pack, they'd all watched him in fear. Some confused. Angry. But she was mystified. Enraptured by him and the power that radiated off of him.

She spent a long time feeling weak when she was younger. Even after she triggered the curse. But when Klaus told her she could become immortal, be strong, be at his side, she was the first to accept. The only one in her pack to ask him to turn her.

He'd set his eyes on her, something unidentifiably dark gleaming in his blue eyes, and when she latched onto his wrist to drink his blood, he hadn't looked away from her.

When he cupped her cheeks, he'd brushed his thumbs along the curve of her cheekbones and told her he'd make it quick and painless for her, and when she opened her eyes, he'd be there.

He'd kept his word, then. And he'd kept it ever since.

This, though. He'd given her his word, knowing her hesitance to fight, knowing that unless it was life or death, she'd rather avoid conflict. He promised her there would be no bloodshed here today.

It's not his fault, this time. She needs to tell him that. She needs to be at his side to make sure they're still fighting together, like they have for so long, yet so little time.

She throws a vampire off of her, with nothing but his heart in her palm and she quickly drops it to the ground at her feet. Turning, she pushes through the chaos, trying to cross the room to where she last saw him.

"Klaus!"

Her voice echoes over the mess and she sees him turn in the direction of it, and the fire in his blue eyes has her stopping.

He has blood smeared around his mouth and chin and she knows he's torn out more throats than he can count. The numbers are dwindling on both sides, barely anyone left standing, and she goes to close the space between them when a blinding pain stops her in her tracks.

Her choked off grunt is nearly silent amidst the yelling, but to Klaus it's like a gunshot.

He watches the point of the stake stab through her chest and feels his breath stall in his chest, fingers going numb all the way to the tips.

Her hand comes up, trembling as she skims her fingers over the blood blooming on her shirt around the stake. When she looks back up at Klaus, she tries to say his name but it's suffocated by the blood bubbling up in her throat.

Her knees give out from under her and she hears his hoarse voice yell her name as she goes down.

She can't see it, but she feels the pain that refreshes when he rips the stake from her back and throws it into the heart of the vampire that had attacked her.

She can't see it through the blur of her tears, but the sounds of retreat echo in her ears around the waves crashing.

When Klaus speaks again, his voice is closer and she blinks blearily, finding him hovering above her with wide eyes, looking uncharacteristically scared.

Her brows furrow when she sees the look on his face and when his fingers brush hers, she's quick to intertwine them with hers.

He whispers her name, the sound broken with emotion, and she squeezes his hand unconsciously.

"You're alright," He tries, valiantly ignoring the graying color of her skin despite the fact that he got the stake out of her. "You're alright, love. The pain will go away in a minute,"

She frowns, shaking her head against where he has it cupped with the hand that she's not holding. "Doesn't hurt," She whispers, swallowing roughly around the copper in her mouth.

"What?"

She repeats herself. "Doesn't hurt. Can't feel anything,"

Klaus makes a noise that she thinks might be grief. "No, no, it's alright. Here," He rips his hand from hers and his fangs tear into his skin, and he shoves his wrist against her mouth, letting as much blood drip into her mouth as he can before he heals.

She swallows it dutifully, but that numbness doesn't quite go away, and she wonders why he's so worried about it.

"Sit up," He commands her, though his voice is nowhere near as firm as it can get. "Sit up, and I'll help you the rest of the way. We'll go home, and you can rest."

"Klaus," She says his name, smiling around the syllables. "Come here."

He leans down at her request, eyes fluttering shut on a shaky breath when she lifts a blood-smeared hand up to his cheek. He whispers her name and her smile gives way to bloody teeth.

She uses what strength she can to lean up and kiss him, the pads of her fingers pressing into his pale cheek when he inhales sharply but presses back instantly, deepening the kiss.

She lingers as long as she can until she has to pull away, gasping for a full breath that she can't quite reach.

Still, a smile sits on her lips and when she meets Klaus's worried gaze, she doesn't falter. "Thank you,"

Confusion flutters on his face for a moment, but he jostles her when she starts to go limp in his arms, hand falling from his face. "No," He pulls her weight up, lifting her against his chest as her eyes flutter shut. "No. Wake up. Wake up!"

Silence follows his demands, his pleas, and through the blood on her cheek, a single tear falls from his eye, cleaning as it slides down her skin and falls into nothing.

Despite the silence surrounding him, he feels deafened.

──────

When she opens her eyes again, she can feel her body again in a way she couldn't before. Luckily, she can't feel any pain.

Her eyes go down to her chest where she knows a gaping wound had been, but there's nothing left, not even a scar its wake and she takes a deep breath, relieved that it's not followed by a throttle of blood coming up her throat.

"You're awake,"

The voice startles her, but she isn't scared when she turns her head against the pillow to look at Klaus. A frown sprouts on her face when she sees him sitting in a chair at her side, looking like he hasn't slept in days. It's not always necessary, but they have to take breaks sometimes, and she hasn't seen Klaus look this tired in a long time.

"I am," She says, swallowing a mouthful of spit in an attempt to wet her throat. "I don't think I should be, though."

"I owe many people a great deal of things, so you'd better stay that way."

His voice is dark and she can hear the anger in it, but she's not used to it being focused on her. "You didn't–"

"Do not," He cuts her off, his words nearly a growl that has her eyes widening. "Do not tell me that I shouldn't have saved you."

He leans forward, grabbing her hand in his, and she shrinks with embarrassment when she remembers how she'd touched his cheek and kissed him.

"Klaus," She squeezes her eyes shut, huffing her humiliation out. "I am– so sorry that I–"

"Don't," He cuts her off again, hand pressing pointedly against hers. "Don't apologize if you don't mean it."

She falls silent for a moment, lost as she looks at him. "I just... I thought I was going to die. And I just– I had to have it at least once."

He visibly swallows and she watches that pretty shine light up his eyes again. "You thought you were dying, and the last thing you wanted to do was kiss me?"

She nods despite the toe-curling embarrassment coursing through her.

He cuts a sharp breath out of his nose, shaking his head.

Before she realizes it, he's hovering above her, cupping her cheeks gently. "Silly little thing," He quietly scolds her, not giving her time to argue before he kisses her, ever so softly, softer than she ever thought he could be. Like she'll break beneath his touch if he doesn't treat her like glass.

When he pulls away and she forces her eyes open, she finds herself fighting off a tingling sensation from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "What'd you do that for?"

He smiles, small and fond. "The next time you kiss me, you don't have to be dying to do it."

"Oh,"

"Don't ever do that to me again," His voice has a warning in it, but she's already smiling too hard to pay attention to it. "You know how I feel about people disobeying my orders."

Her grin is audible when she responds. "Yeah, I do."

#klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson fanfiction

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hypnoneghoul · 4 months

Text

Attitude

WC: 2,5K

Relationship: Rain/Phantom

Tags: Aquarium Date, Fluff and Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, Dynamic Switch, Degradation, Dumbification, Bathroom Sex, Name-Calling, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Creampie, Coming Untouched

Their date is going well, but Rain’s patience for Phantom’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when he grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence. Or Rain and Phantom go on an aquarium date and fuck in the bathroom.

Notes: Commission for @revengeghoulette :3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Rain wanted to take Phantom out for an aquarium date—or any proper date for that matter—for months now. Between his and Aurora’s summoning and tour there wasn’t much time and they didn’t really know each other well then. The tour itself was too packed and unpredictable and after it finished they all needed some time to recharge. But now, over a year later, the date can finally happen.

Both Phantom and Rain are barely keeping themself from jumping and giggling excitedly, not only at the prospect of seeing all those cute water creatures they’ve been reading and listening about, but also getting to spend some nice time together; go on a real date, like real couples do.

They’ve both got colorful and shiny stickers and maps to be filled with them, with what they’ve already seen—like a checklist. Rain squeezes Phantom’s hand as they walk through the entrance, both grinning.

As they get lost in the dark tunnels—as they get surrounded by darkness, the peaceful sound of water, colorful creatures and each other—they truly get lost in it. It’s brilliant.

Of course at some point one of them gets slightly distracted. Phantom lingers by one fish for a few short moments more than Rain does, and so he waits for him by the next tank. When the quintessence ghoul does turn to him, though, his eyes get caught on Rain’s ass.

That’s when Phantom realizes what pants he’s wearing. It's that pair.

Phantom isn’t religious in the slightest, but he would pray to whatever god sent those pants Rain’s way. His ass was already delicious to look at—and not only—but when he put these on? No one, human or ghoul, could walk past him without staring at his stupidly perfect butt.

The worst thing was that he knew exactly what he was doing, and a glint in his eyes when he saw Phantom’s realization only confirmed it.

Now that Phantom’s noticed, he can’t tear his eyes away from the damn thing. The fish and all the animals are really fascinating and he doesn’t want to waste their time there, but Rain is extremely distracting. And Phantom is a very touchy ghoul.

He tries to be sneaky at first; brushing his hand against him here and there, wrapping an arm around his waist and letting it wander down as if by accident, or gluing himself to him from the back. Just to take a good look at the manta rays, though.

Thankfully, the pants have pockets which—as Phantom figured out some time into their date—are just perfect for him to shove one of his hands into as they walk. Rain grumbles about it, about how it’s not comfortable to walk like that, but it's obvious he enjoys the attention. Of both the quintessence ghoul and other people in the aquarium. Most of the humans wouldn’t have anything nice to say, most likely, but the ghouls absolutely don’t care.

Still, Phantom ends up taking his hand out and sticking to holding hands with Rain. Most of the time, at least, because he absolutely does not miss any opportunity to touch the water ghoul’s ass, maybe even squeeze a little if he’s lucky.

Rain isn’t exactly opposed to that, but at some point it begins to annoy him. Phantom gets distracted, and maybe it’s his own fault for picking those pants to wear, but the quintessence ghoul should be able to behave. Especially in public.

They are enjoying their date, though. The aquarium is huge and full of really interesting animals and Rain and Phantom would stay there for ages if they could.

Thankfully they can take pictures.

They take a lot of them; normal ones of the creatures, selfies, and candid shots of each other. Phantom will end up printing a ton of them out and adding to his already covered wall to admire every day. Maybe he'll give some out to their packmates, too.

He thinks he’s got a favorite one, though. Rain stretching with his arms over his head and eyes closed—with a sliver of skin peeking out from under the hem of his shirt—and a fish that looks just like him in his aquatic form right behind him in the background. The water ghoul also has one that he favors, of Phantom bending back with a huge smile and fitting perfectly to the curve of the water tunnel to look at a huge sea turtle swimming right over him.

They kiss in that same tunnel just as a whale shark swims by them, asking a nice old lady—the only other person there at the moment—to take a picture for them. It turns out surprisingly well for how her hands were shaking.

It’s perfect and they’re both as close to heaven as any ghoul can ever get.

But even though their date is going well and they’re having fun, the water ghoul’s patience for the other’s groping has been running thin for hours. He finally loses it when Phantom all but grinds his dick against his ass as he bends over a fence to look down into one of the open pools where a couple of otters are swimming happily.

They’re nearly at the very end of the aquarium anyway.

Rain growls as he swiftly turns around—not caring for humans all around them, just as Phantom doesn’t—and grabs the other’s wrist. He squeezes just hard enough to be painful and drags him along the line on the floor leading to the end and the bathrooms. Phantom trips and curses under his breath, but can’t deny he’s got a nice view from just behind Rain like this.

The next thing he knows he’s being thrown shoulder first into a swing bathroom door, “Ow!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rain spits and even though Phantom’s instincts tell him to obey, he think he’s got a better idea. He definitely has a better idea, he just has to wait for the right moment.

The stalls turn out to be big and actually going down to the very floor, and Rain couldn’t be more pleased with it. He wouldn’t, of course, mind getting some additional…ears, here and there—he’s an exhibitionist at heart—but what he wouldn’t want was for them to get thrown out and banned from the place. The aquarium is awesome.

He pushes Phantom into a stall at the very end of a long line of doors and quickly flicks the lock before pressing him against the wall, chest to back. “You just had to piss me off, yeah? Couldn’t have had a nice moment like normal fucking people without you acting like a whore let out into the public?”

“You know I get bored easily,” Phantom bites back and Rain snaps his—suddenly unglamored—teeth right next to his ear. He grabs his arm and yanks it back to spin the quintessence ghoul around and shove him down onto his knees. He goes down without much of a fight, just like he does for Dewdrop on stage, and Rain doesn’t notice how…suspicious that is in these circumstances.

The water ghoul leaves him there and starts to fumble with his zipper, nearly ripping it open. He would if it were any other pair of pants. Phantom watches with hungry eyes and waits and just when Rain is about to pull the waistband down just enough to get his cock out, the quintessence ghoul goes for it.

He grabs his hips and turns him—so rapidly Rain loses his footing—to face the wall. On instinct he puts his hands to brace himself and he’s so surprised by the sudden switch he can do nothing but whine as Phantom drags his jeans down to his very ankles.

“You fucking wanted this,” the quintessence ghoul laughs. “If anyone’s a whore in here it’s you, Rainy.”

Rain’s brain immediately gets fuzzy.

The sweet whine Phantom gets from him as an answer pulls another cruel laugh out of him and he stays on his knees, but shuffles closer. He knocks Rain’s legs further apart—as much as the pants and underwear around his ankles allow—and goes right for his ass. The water ghoul gasps against the tiled wall when Phantom grabs his cheeks and starts kneading.

“B–batsy, come on,” he mumbles and, only proving his earlier words, pushes his hips back; suddenly very eager.

“Whore, as I said,” the other says quietly, more to himself than Rain. “I bet you’re soaked already, let’s see–”

With that he spreads him and hums—Rain can’t gather if it’s in approval, or the opposite. The water ghoul really is soaked already, his hole truly drooling slick. A minute more with his underwear up and he’d have a sizable wet patch for Phantom to mock.

That may, or may not, give him an idea for later.

For now, though, he leans in to taste him—licking a stripe from his taint up to where his tail would be if he wouldn’t be glamored. Rain moans wantonly at that. His legs shake already.

The quintessence ghoul notices and grabs him just below the knees to gift him a tiny bit of stabilization before he truly dives in.

He shoves his face between Rain’s cheeks and licks into him sloppily, both because he likes it like that and because a whore like him deserves to be licked and fucked messy. The water ghoul cries out, letting out whimpers one after the other as he holds onto the wall for dear life. His cock is dripping like a faucet right onto said wall and Rain can’t even feel disgusted about his tip touching the—most likely filthy—tile.

“Phantom, please, please, I–lemme,” he doesn’t really know what he’s begging for. For him to stop, to never stop, to cum, or whatever else; Phantom isn’t listening to him anyway. He thinks about unglamoring his tongue to reach even deeper, to fuck Rain up even more. Maybe with an additional spark of quintessence, to really hit him.

Phantom pulls back to look up at him, though, and Rain doesn’t seem to be needing any more messing up. He’s already absolutely blissed out.

He licks into him once again—just to indulge himself and feel the water ghoul clenching around his tongue some more, before he completely moves away. Rain lets out a little panicked noise, but Phantom isn’t gone for long.

He shoves three fingers inside him with not much preamble, more to pull yet another sinful cry out of him than to test the stretch. Phantom curls the digits and all but abuses Rain’s prostate with his fingertips for a longer moment, until the water ghoul’s looking like he’s just about to fold and melt into a puddle of goop on the floor.

The quintessence ghoul stands up, then, opens his own pants, and pulls his dick out, stroking it once or twice for good measure, before he folds himself over the other’s back to growl right into his ear, “Shouldn’t have worn these pants, you were just asking for it with ‘em.”

Phantom slams his cock into Rain’s ass balls deep right away and if he thought the water ghoul’s noises were pretty earlier, this one was just divine.

He takes little—if any—regard to the other’s comfort or pleasure, fucking his slick hole with abandon; simply chasing his own release. He’ll make it up to him later, and he knows Rain will make him pay for this, too, but for now Phantom can only enjoy himself.

His claws are glamored, so he doesn’t draw blood, but he still grips Rain’s waist with enough force to bruise. He knows it will and he can’t wait to admire his marks later.

Rain is whining and moaning and crying against the wall as he claws at it. His cheek gets squeezed against the tile with every move of the quintessence ghoul and Rain can barely breathe. He doesn’t have enough brain left in him to drop his glamor and flare his gills back to life.

He pants with his tongue out like a dog, but Phantom’s eyes get dragged to his own, and he grins when tears start to flow down the bright red of Rain’s cheeks.

“Awww, Rainy,” he coos with faux sympathy and kindness. “Too much for your stupid brain, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll give you something a dumb whore will understand.”

The water ghoul moans so loud it echoes through the bathroom and slams back into Phantom’s ears so hard it nearly hurts. Rain’s ass grips his cock like a vice and with one more slam of his hips the other realizes that he’s just cum all over the stall wall completely untouched.

“Slut,” Phantom grunts out once again before burying himself in him as far as he’ll go. He shoves his face into the back of the water ghoul’s neck and his glamored fangs itch to bite and suck a bruise into that fair skin. He shudders as Rain keeps wildly clenching around him and he can’t hold his orgasm back any more.

Phantom cums with a groan and Rain echoes it at the feeling of getting pumped full. He’s barely standing—held up mostly by the other ghoul, though he, too, sags as he comes down from his high.

He pulls out, breathing heavily, and bends down to pull Rain’s pants back up right away. The water ghoul can only whimper with confusion as he feels warm cum slowly leaking out of him and into his underwear. Phantom grabs him by the shoulders and turns him so they’re face to face.

“Damn, you’re a wreck,” he laughs at Rain’s fucked out state. He wipes his tears and smooths down his clothes and hair, putting him back together as best as he can.

“Phantom, the–the…can I clean up–” the water ghoul murmurs, but the other doesn’t let him finish.

“Nuh-uh. You’re carrying it back home so I can fuck you all sloppy again,” Phantom tells him and the casualty twists Rain’s insides. “Maybe I’ll invite the others, tell them exactly how our little date went because of how much of a whore you are.”

He takes off his flannel shirt—a bit sweaty now—and hands it to him by the sleeves. Rain takes it with shaky hands and looks at the other with a questioning look, unsure why he needs it.

“Around your waist. Time to cover yourself up,” Phantom explains and Rain nods with burning cheeks as he does, indeed, tie it around his waist.

After a moment of staring at him with still hungry eyes, the quintessence ghoul speaks again. “Unless you do want everyone to see your pretty ass leaking my cum through these slutty jeans.”

Rain mewls pitifully and looks at the other with a stare worth a kicked puppy. Phantom softens a bit and wraps an arm around his waist to bring him close and offer some comfort. He really was mean and rough.

“Come on, Rainy,” he whispers and kisses his cheek with gentleness he’s been lacking just moments before. “I’ll get you another otter plushie, okay? I love you.”

Rain smiles weakly as he nods. “Love you, too.”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #hypnone's commissions

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inferno-0 · 6 months

Text

Frame

────────────────────────────

You just need the shots.

────────────────────────────

Sorry for the English.

Titans have always defeated their enemies. For millennia, if not more, they have fought for balance and peace on this planet. They were all strong in their own way. Even those same pests had some potential, but decided to go the other way, with poor results in the process. Victory has always been on the side of good. It had to be. Any way. Especially for creatures like Kaiju, who are truly majestic.

They had their own zest, and maybe even several.

Some people liked them

And some preferred to run far away, the main thing was not to look at them and save their lives. But that's what life is for, to preserve it and make that remnant richer than being eaten or trampled by the Titan. But do the Titans really need to do anything to humans? Their work is done.

There was no enemy and there was no point in doing anything else.

It's just people who are like that. Their size was really poorly chosen by nature and therefore you have to somehow survive and turn on instincts for advancement.

It's no one's fault that half of humanity actively avoids all these Kaiju.

It's just a smart decision of nature, or maybe fate itself, that gave all these Titans the ability.

The ability that people liked, who are not afraid of them and consider them something beautiful and attractive.

Especially you. A simple girl, an ordinary resident in the city,

Just a creature with a destiny to follow.

But this fate was difficult and you didn't know what to do and how to decide.

For some reason, your ego can't get enough of all these shots from the news on TV. You've always wanted something more, and you didn't know what it was. Even photographs that were accidentally photographed by people were kept for themselves. Everything that had to do with the Titans, you put aside for yourself. All the information that kept you afloat was yours.

You were obsessed.

Especially from the moment He arrived.

You've seen this fight and watched it several times. The Lizard fought other Titans unknown to you. You couldn't find an animal that matched these looks, but they all looked mysterious and beautiful in their own way. But there was a bad intention behind this beauty. You have heard and understood that these two Titans were parasites. That is why the one who fell into your soul mercilessly destroyed them. The one you've always liked and the one that sticks in your head to this day.

It's been many years since you've seen it. You didn't know where he was going or what he was doing. But perhaps he, like all animals, slept somewhere and accumulated strength for the next fight.

You've always been following the information about this Titan. Especially when he came back a couple of years later.

You've seen this fierce battle once again. But it's more terrible with the enemy. Their struggle was serious and decided the future fate of the planet. Two alphas and two kings.

But you've always been in favor of the former, and for good reason.

He won again and left again. And you were left sitting in your room and looking at the photos, which were added a few years later. And again. Struggle.

No matter how many years pass, no matter how many times you learn everything in your life. Your brain couldn't get it out of your head. So much time has passed, and you're still into it. Any ordinary person would call you crazy and frivolous, a person with a childish imagination and inspiration in the next book with Dinosaurs.

Or maybe it was.

For these people.

For you, this was the first step to destiny. Yes, it all started with simple reptiles and dinosaurs, and then the Titans, which seductively torment your soul. But you don't mind. You just need to shorten the distance to them.

And to him.

The one that ate up your brain and all the unnecessary thoughts every day.

You couldn't help but think about him. For you, it has become something ordinary.

It's already familiar.

A habit that only gives you a step forward.

And off you went.

The next struggle that was in front of your eyes. The Four Titans. Two by two, and Odin died. You didn't understand how you managed to survive in such a deadly situation. Buildings collapsed step by step, you desperately ran where your feet led. Where my instinct led me. The loud screams of people, the growls coming from somewhere above, made you close your eyes and ears and squeeze into yourself like a child in a corner.

It wasn't like what you saw on TV.

It was scarier.

It was worse.

But for some reason, you didn't run where the rest of the people who were saving themselves were running. You ran to him.

To Godzilla.

Its spikes were visible between the buildings and you took advantage of this by speeding up your run. The closer you were, the scarier it became from the size you gradually notice in front of you. You knew you could die, but you went anyway.

You've been dreaming for so long and couldn't miss this moment.

You don't care if you're going to die.

It's like someone steps on you.

You want and move forward, crawling through broken roofs and structures. Yes, it was difficult, but you walked.

They were practically near you, but not yet completely. They won't see you. Much less will He see.

A couple of meters left. You've already noticed the big ape that was called Kong. You recalled the struggle that took place a few years ago. It was him. The only thing that distinguished him from that image was a large and yellow metal glove, which seemed to increase his strength.

But it doesn't matter, what matters is that the one you admired, or even loved, has also become different. You walked to the last tall building that could withstand such storms and looked up.

Your favorite.

A creature that has sunk into your little heart from the very beginning. That has become something mundane in your head. He was in front of you. The changes that touched him excited your mind even more. His breath was pink, and his spikes became sharper and more curved. The legs have clearly become longer.

So beautiful and so attractive.

You watched in amazement as the Titan shot its beam into the sky, pulling apart the cold clouds, letting the sun into the world. It was perfect. It was so beautiful that we didn't notice how we pulled out the phone for another photo. This picture will be truly sensational. The most beloved in my entire life.

A smile immediately enveloped your face, you slowly picked up your phone and looked across the screen at Godzilla, who was unaware of anything. But he's unlikely to notice.

The finger cautiously approached the mug through which your life would sing again for a few days.

Squinting your eyes, you gasped for air.

"Click"

"Oops" You pursed your lips into a thin line and carefully moved the lens away from you. Okay, that wasn't the plan. It was ridiculous. A failure and a mistake that will probably ruin your life right now.

Reaching for your pocket, you put your phone back in and took a step back.

I don't think the sound reached them because of the difference in size, you just need to quietly step back from this fuss.

Slowly turning your back on the Titans, you took another step away from them. The quieter the step, the stronger the crunch of stones under your feet, which was a problem.

"Everything is fine. All.. Good.." You could barely hold back a sigh.

"Everything is wonderful..."

A huge shadow immediately loomed over you, right over your pathetic body. Your shoulders stiffened. You remembered how you came here without fear, but with a suspicion of death.

And here she comes.

That is, He came.

Warm air enveloped your shoulders. A rhythmic growl followed you, as if interested. You didn't dare turn your head, but you can't run away either.

Two options and two different answers.

How could you not hear this colossus approaching you?

Absurdly.

You swallowed, praying you wouldn't be in any danger. Just like yard dogs, they will smell it and move on. But not everyone does that.

Making a different decision, you jerked away from the Titan, jumping off a collapsed chunk of the building until you stopped again with a furious scream at your back. Out of your fear, another one sounded, but this time another, more rude. And it didn't seem to be aimed at you.

With tension, you turned all the way.

The two Titans growled at each other as if to say something, but it was not yet known what it was. Very strange. But you silently thanked the monkey for not letting you offend, to put it mildly.

You looked at the two kaiju one more time before pulling out your phone again.

Turning on the camera and adjusting the lens, you pointed your gadget at one cute Titan on the left. You didn't notice it right away, but when you caught your eye, you decided to take a picture and capture it as a complement to your passions.

Squinting your eyes and adjusting for an angle, you finally clicked.

"Click"

"Damn" You banged your head on the screen, bumping your forehead right at that button, where there was another click in the direction of the Titan. "What's the matter... "

The three of them stared at you.

The three mighty Titans fell abruptly silent. The one in white was just looking at you curiously, bowing his head slightly while the other two looked at each other. Although Godzilla still had a quiet growl in the direction of Kong, who just turned away with a frown, not wanting to start a fight again.

Now you're in their sight.

Here it is, embarrassment in front of an idol.

You raised your eyebrows, looking back. If you say something, they are unlikely to understand.

Lifting the camera again, you brought your finger closer to the button once more.

"Click"

With a shake in your hands, you brought the screen closer to you, staring at the photo in the hope that the second attempt would not come. You breathed a sigh of relief. All three of them looked at you peacefully, without screaming and without anything that could ruin the shot. Even Godzilla silently stared at you, even though it was scary. But you didn't mind.

All that's left to do is reach out, poke your hand on that muzzle, and feel the texture of the scales.

But it will only be in dreams.

So far.

And now.. Enjoy a bunch of beautiful Titans that flaunt in your lens. After all, it's not for nothing that you stepped on that very step as a child.

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#godzilla #godzilla x kong: the new empire #godzillaxreader #godzilla monsterverse #x reader #king kong #King kong x reader #Shimo #Shimo x reader #Titans x reader #Kaiju #I'm a walking delirium #I just love the Titans

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intriq · 1 year

Text

Daffodil

Part of my Hanahaki series

Character: Jason Todd

Theme: Angst

Daffodil: regard, unequalled love

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓

You've known Jason for awhile. You've been friends for a few years at this point.

You've seen him change and grow. Grieved him when he died, welcomed him back when he returned. Supported him when he needed it, because truthfully? He did need it. Even if he was a stubborn asshole about it.

But you also loved him throughout those years. Through all those changes.

You loved him when he died, loved him when you visited his headstone, and you loved him even when he came back. You just always did.

But you also knew he never loved you back. He was never quite capable of seeing of just how head over heels you were for him, even though his family could. To him, you were always just his "best friend".

You thought you could be happy like that, you truly did. You thought you could be content loving him from the sidelines, even if it was suffocating knowing he would never love you back. You thought you'd be okay.

Until you coughed up those flower petals.

You remember the exact day you first discovered you had Hanahaki Disease, too.

It'd been a cloudless night, the first one in a few days. Maybe weeks. Either way, for once Gotham was not shrouded by storm clouds. It was at most, calm. Peaceful. But perhaps that in of itself should have been an omen.

Because Gotham was never peaceful.

You don't remember exactly what was said that night, but you just remember how you'd started coughing the moment Jason was distracted. Had you two been on a stakeout that night? You were almost sure that you were.

You remember so vividly clutching those flower petals in your hands, staring at them before crushing them in your palm, letting them drift in the wind when Jason asks you if you were alright.

And now here you were, months later. Over time Jason would give you suspicious looks when you'd tried to hide your coughing fits, would always double check if you were really okay. But you always said you were.

Until today.

You and Jason are doing the last of your stakeout mission, gathering the last tiniest bits of intel to feed to the others so that way they could take out this newly fledged gang from right under their nose. It's cold, but that's fine. Gotham is always cold, especially in the autumn months.

"How much longer are we supposed to be out here for?"

You pause to think for a minute as your eyes scan the outside of the warehouse the gang had turned into their main base of operations. Taking in every detail, hoping it’d help piece together some of their behavior.

“Not that much longe—“ Your words are cut off by that feeling in your throat, hand flying up reflexively as you scramble to remove your mask just in time to violently begin coughing into the palm of your hand.

You hunch into yourself as you cough, your free hand clutching your mask desperately so you could put it back on at a moments notice. Next to you, Jason is concerned. Behind the red helmet he wears his face is a mixture of concern.

It takes awhile for you to stop coughing. The raw creeping pain that fills your throat and makes your lungs burn is something you’ve grown used to.

You pull your hand away when you feel that same familiar feeling of blood in your hands, wet and hot as it pairs with your spit and the flowers. You try to hide it from Jason, you really do. You try to clench your fist and let it drop to your side.

But Jason is faster. He’s got your hand snagged by the wrist the moment it drops. And he pries your hand open while he remains quiet. And when he sees the flowers and blood in your hands he knows he should’ve done so sooner.

You’d been hiding behind the coughing fits for awhile. Pulling excuses out of the air for each one. Making up reasons for your dwindling strength and stamina, for how your skin got progressively more sickly and pale.

Excuses each and every time that Jason now regrets not looking deeper into.

“Fucking Hanahaki Disease? Seriously?” Jason doesn’t hesitate to say your name in that same tone. He’s angry, but he’s worried. An angry kind of concerned and worried, because for months you’ve probably been suffering alone. And to him, he doesn’t want his best friend to suffer alone. He’s had to do that already, he knows it’s shitty.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it?”

“It’s not important, Red. Doesn’t matter—“

Jason stops you, the grip on your wrist tightening for a moment as he seems to be trying at least a little bit to regulate his emotions.

“Screw that. It’s Jason your talking to right now, not Red Hood.”

“Jason—“

“No! It does fucking matter, okay? Your.. Fuck, you’re my friend, okay? I care about what’s happening to you.”

Your heart aches at the word friend, makes the suffocating feeling in your throat grow tighter. Friend. Of course. That was all you’d ever be to him.

“It’s just a little one sided love, Jason.”

“Little? You call coughing up blood and flowers little? Your dying!”

Your face scrunches up as you begin sputtering again, coughing as more specks of blood fly past your lips.

“If it’s one sided, you need to get the surgery. It’s the only option.”

Immediately your shaking your head, trying to refuse, but Jason’s already picking you up. He’s already died once, brought back by chance because of the Lazarus Pit. He’s not gonna have you die, because you matter to him.

He ignores your protesting pleas as you eventually fall unconscious from the lack of air you are able to get into your lungs because of the flowers growing there.

And Jason brings you to Gotham General.

But when you awaken from that lifesaving surgery, preventing you from dying on the operating table as you were seconds from death, Jason noticed your different with him.

He can see just how different you look at him. You aren’t the same you that he remembers growing up with. The look in your eyes is different, as is your smile.

You aren’t quite as warm, not quite that same ball of sunshine with him as you used to be. At first he thinks it’s because your mad at him for bringing you to the hospital against your wishes, but..

Even when months pass and you still don’t get that same energy you used to back is when he understands. It hits him when your suddenly looking at someone else the way you used to look at him and it hits him hard, like a smack to the face.

Oh. He thinks. He was the one you loved.

And that regret hits Jason hard, especially when he coughs up flower petals of his own.

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

#gender neutral reader #oneshot #gn reader #angst #dc universe #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd angst #dc universe angst #angst with no comfort #angst with no happy ending #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #hanahaki disease au #oneshot series

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lurkingshan · 8 months

Text

Last Twilight Episode 12

A month ago, I never could have predicted that I’d be sitting here trying to assemble some thoughts to explain how on earth this show went so badly off the rails. I am truly taken aback by where this story landed, and I advise anyone who wants to think of it fondly to just pretend it ended at episode 9, and even skip the finale if you haven’t watched yet. Before I get into it, let me just start with a word of praise for the cast, who did a great job with their performances and kept this show afloat when the writing fell apart. And boy, did it fall apart.

In my view, this narrative had three main threads it was addressing: 1) Day’s journey to accepting his disability; 2) unresolved family trauma; and 3) Mhok and Day’s romance. And in the end, it failed on all three of them. I am going to dig into this and I am not feeling particularly nice, so if this is going to hurt your feelings I suggest you stop reading now.

Day’s Journey

Just…wow. We have been afraid of this turn the entire time and trying to hold out hope that the show would not go there, but here we are. I started laughing out loud when we got to the end of part 3 and Mhon’s phone went off with an alert for a new eye donor, and then just stared incredulously at my screen as we time skipped AGAIN to a Day whose vision had been restored for years (last week I joked to @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles that once a drama starts using time skips it becomes addictive and they never stop, and—welp!). What was this entire show for? Why did we spend twelve episodes with Day grieving his vision loss, learning how to cope, and finally accepting his blindness only to completely undercut it at the end? The first part of the finale was so much about how he was thriving—finding a new career for himself and becoming self-sufficient and growing so much on his own—only to give us an ending that implied he could not actually have his happily ever after without his vision restored.

And this is in fact the message they sent by coupling the return of his vision with the return of he and Mhok’s relationship, and giving us a happy ending rooted in his contentment at having his sight back. They even went back to the Last Twilight mountain to completely tarnish the thematic resonance of the original scene. Calling back to the beautiful memory of Day “seeing” the sunset and experiencing “a moment so good that you feel like you can live there forever” as he accepted his disability with this scene of him seeing the real sunset with his restored vision was so hurtful to me that I actually got angry. Day didn’t need his vision back to get a happy ending, and I absolutely hate what this communicates about disabled people’s capacity to live happy and fulfilling lives. This show has created many writing sins but this is the most unforgivable to me.

Family Trauma

The show began dropping the ball on this one a few weeks ago, but this finale put the nail in the coffin. We spent most of this episode at Porjai and Night’s wedding, an event that might have felt meaningful if the show had let us see any of their romance. I’m grateful to Mark Pakin and Namtan Tipnaree for their beauty and charisma because it’s the only thing that made me care about those scenes at all. Rather than actually being about them, however, this wedding was used primarily as a clunky vehicle to deliver heavy-handed messages about “second chances” to encourage Day to get back together with Mhok (more on that in the next section).

I did enjoy the brief nods in this episode to the brothers continuing to have newfound harmony in their relationship, but where the show really lost me was in their attempt to bring Night and Day’s dad back into the mix and imply some sort of resolution between him and Mhon. Mhon, a woman whose perspective on their split we never actually saw, whose motivation for her choices and behavior toward her sons were completely elided by the narrative, who was forgiven and made peace with offscreen during a time skip. I was never given the chance to understand her or what this relationship meant to her in the first place, so why would I care about these scenes with her making her peace with this man? I continue to be so confused about where this show chose to spend its time, and why someone with Aof’s track record on developing strong and narratively important familial relationships dropped the ball so much with her.

The Romance

Okay, let’s get into it, and remember what I said about not reading if this is going to hurt your feelings! My criteria for considering a romance successful is I have to believe the relationship is mutual, beneficial to both of the pair, and that the couple is prepared to weather future challenges. Last Twilight’s romance fails on all three fronts, and it all comes down to the total imbalance in the relationship that persisted right through the final scenes.

This entire narrative has been Mhok bending to Day’s will, giving Day what he needs, forgiving him for everything, and letting him make all the decisions about the relationship, and the finale was regrettably more of the same. In episode 11, Mhok made a mistake when he lied to Day about turning down the job in Hawaii. But he made that mistake out of grief and fear, and Day didn’t care—he unfeelingly rejected him and his pain and ended their relationship without a second thought. That was potentially forgivable as a momentary lapse borne out of instinctual hurt, and could have been repairable had Day reconsidered soon after and extended Mhok some grace. But in this episode, we find out Day blocked Mhok and refused to communicate with him again after that night, and has left Mhok completely in the cold for three years after he failed to be perfect one (1) time.

And this episode? Was on Day’s side in this conflict. Mhok is the one to return and start pursuing Day again. Mhok is the one to broach the topic of their breakup. Mhok is the one to thank Day for breaking his heart and tell him he did nothing wrong (y’all, I almost threw something at the screen). Mhok’s grief and trauma go completely unaddressed in this finale until they try to play the Rung card for one last moment of sentiment. Day cries to his mother about how he just doesn’t know if he can forgive Mhok. And in the end, Mhok makes the grand gesture, missing his flight to go to Day and stay in Thailand with him despite the successful life he has built in Hawaii.

The cognitive dissonance I felt watching this play out was extreme. I rarely see a writer misunderstand their own characters and relationship conflict so thoroughly. In order to believe in this romance we needed to see Day finally show some empathy for Mhok, take responsibility for his own mistakes, and be the one to make an effort this time. We needed to believe that Day has the capacity to be a supportive partner to Mhok even when he’s struggling. But Day didn’t demonstrate any of that, and so I simply don’t believe in this relationship. I don’t believe Mhok can trust Day not to abandon him again when some other major life event intervenes and Mhok is less than perfect. And that’s a shame, because the show really almost had something here with these two.

And that’s all I got. What a disappointment this show turned out to be. If you need me, I will just be over here in my little corner imagining the Night and Porjai romcom that we never got and pretending the rest of this show ended several weeks ago.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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woozvc · 7 months

Text

call you tonight

final (part XIX)

w/c - 1.6k + smau at the end

a/n - and this is it! after so long call you tonight has officially come to an end. I hope the last part of this clears up the eunwoo situation (reading your replies and theories made my day😭😭) and i hope this is an ending you can be satisfied with. thank you so much for all your love and patience on this series. it truly means a lot that you guys stuck around till the end even with my terrible posting schedule 🫶

previous / masterlist

this is it. this is the day.

the event started 20 minutes ago and till now, it's been a success. the auditorium is filled with laughter and dancing, courtesy of jihoons playlists.

you're currently standing at a corner just observing the entire place. a part of you feels at peace that this is finally over, the results will be out today and this is it. a part of you is also shit scared. the past few days have been a rollercoaster.

seungcheols words keep echoing in your head about how you're still important to him and he's changed. you really want to believe him. you really want to give him a-

“hey are you okay?”

you wake out of your trace by jihoons voice.

“yeah I'm fine”

“you seen a bit…distracted” he hands you a cup of lemonade. you take it with a small smile and shrug his comment off. no need to reply when he's right?

“how do you feel, you know, about your performance and all?” you look at him. he shakes his head

“I don't know. all of this feels unreal. I never thought I'd have to perform that too dance but here we are”

“doesn't it scare you?”

“obviously it does, but I find some comfort in it too. maybe it's the fact that a part of me believes taking this chance could end really well. maybe I'll finally let go of my past fears and just let myself be in the moment once.”

“hah.. that sounds nice.”

“yea I guess so. I think whatever happens tonight, I just hope I don't regret it. I want to take that risk”

you open your mouth to reply but you're interrupted by hoshis voice calling jihoon. he gives you a small smile and walks away.

right. regret. don't regret tonight. you decide to leave your spot in the corner when you see hansol walk in. being with a friend is better than being alone.

so jihoon is an amazing dancer. you were mesmerized, truly. his moves are fluid and his body doesn't miss a single beat. obviously hoshi is amazing too. his sharp and timed movements make him look like he was born for the stage.

the song is also amazing. jihoon later revealed it was called “bring it”. you'll definitely tell him to record it and send it to you.

the auditorium is a bit loud now. one hour till new year and the presidential results are about to be announced. you avoided seungcheol all night today. reason? you don't really know.

maybe you know mentally a part of you won't be able to handle his teasing if he wins. it's all friendly of course, but it doesn't change the fact you really, really want to win.

“hey y/n ready for the results?” jeonghan nudges into you and you push him off with an annoyed whine.

“jeonghan I swear if I don't win you'll have to wipe my tears”

“I won't mind that because I'll be winning”

“this is important to you huh?”

“it's my one shot to prove I'm actually good at something, can't fuck this one up”

“you dont have to prove yourself to anyone you know?”

“this is for me. I need this to tell myself I'm better than I think. I'm done always being known as the problem kid. and who knows maybe this will get me some street cred?” he winks and walks back to his group, knowing if he kept speaking, he would say something something sad and make you feel more stressed than you already do. you'd probably scold him for being so self deprecating too. your eyes follow him walking back and

oh.

seungcheol is looking directly at you. his gaze burning deep into you. you look away quickly, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. the music in the room slowly fades out.

“okay ladies and gentlemen are we ready for the most awaited moment of today?” seungkwans voice echos through the room and so does the cheering of the students.

“honestly? I'm not shocked at the result. I'm so proud of everyone who participated and made it this far. just know all of you are amazing and we as the student council and the teachers love your dedication. so first of all here are the names of the people who made it to the finals”

he starts reading off the list. there's your name and eunwoos name. after a few students he announces jeonghans name and….thats it? what?

this is surely a mistake and the entire auditorium feels so. there's chattering and confused looks all around

“ah yes, there's only 9 participants now. choi seungcheol removed his name because of some unavoidable circumstances so we divided all his votes to all the others”

your head shoots in seungcheols direction. you look at him confused and he smiles at you. he motions you to stay where you are for now. this can't be real? he can't just remove his name?

hansol taps your shoulder and tells you to focus on the stage. you look back at the stage, realizing you completely missed seungkwans dramatic speach on how much he waited for the results etc etc.

“and so, svtct, your student council president is…..y/n!”

there's screaming in the auditorium but this place has never felt so quiet. your legs are numb and your hearing is fucked. you…won? you actually did it?

“y/n go to the stage!!” jeonghan pushes you from the crowd towards the stage. you want to say something to him. you want to apologize for winning to him but

he's smiling so wide.

his eyes are genuine. he's genuinely happy you won. “don't worry about me, my favorite cousin’s win is my win” he grabs your hand and takes you to the stage.

seungkwan helps your walk onto the stage where the teachers are standing to give you your certificate and badge. you receive it, saying a small thank you to the teachers presenting and seungkwan hands you the mic

“any words president?”

any words? what the fuck even are words? you stare at the mic then back at seungkwan. you're glad you've been friends with him for so long that even without words, understands and nods at you

“I think our president wants to save the speach for during school hours to not bore us.. well I hope my speach was dramatic enough, wonwoo I'm looking at you. there's 30 minutes till new years so till then…enjoy!” he looks at jihoon to restart the music and when it does, all the eyes on you slowly move away as seungkwan leads you to the teachers.

they all congratulate you and praise you. after a while one teacher asks

“so who's going to be your vice?”

“jeonghan” there's no hesitation in your voice. the teachers seemed shocked, a bit put off too but they don't question it. they tell you good luck and let you go back to the crowd.

you stand near the stage for a bit. letting it all sink in. all these months of work, all the effort and everything worked out. even the banter with seungcheol worked- right. seungcheol.

you run back to try and find him when eunwoo bumps into you.

“hey y/n! congratulations there's no one who deserves it more than you” he gives you a smile and pat on your shoulder.

“thanks eunwoo”

“are you guys busy” you hear seungcheol behind you and immediately turn to him.

“not busy at all man” eunwoo says and walks off, winking at seungcheol while seungcheol just looks at him disgusted.

“I never liked that guy”

“why did you remove your name”

“he's always given me a bad vibe”

“you wanted this so badly”

“and he keeps flirting with-”

“choi seungcheol answer me.”

you cut him off

“answer you? okay fine. first of all don't call me by my full name. I left presidency because frankly I hate the pressure. I never wanted to be captain anyway. I got forced into it because of my grades and extra curriculars.” he takes a pause to look around the room before continuing.

”i realized I was only doing this because it was expected of me. so I left it. I rejoined the track and badminton team. that's what was important to me before and I'm going to continue it now” he says and looks at you. a small smile playing on his lips.

you're speechless. you always knew seungcheol never really liked captaincy but you didn't know till what extent. you feel bad. you feel bad for the all “why aren't you working” and “why did they make you captain” comments you said to him.

“I'm sorry seungcheol”

“for what”

“for everything”

he smiles. you realize that you're seeing his dimples after so long. he's never smiled that much in front of you before. he looks pretty.

“10 seconds guys!” yells seungkwan into the microphone. seungcheol softly takes your hand and says

“y/n, I know you haven't forgiven me”

“but I have to say”

“I've been thinking a lot”

“you're too important to me”

“I think I like you, more than friends.”

“can you give me a chance?”

“happy new year!” jeonghan comes and hugs you.

you have no idea how this is going to end. you're scared, terrified of this feeling but you won't let this go. you keep your grip on seungcheols hand. slowly the student council joins the hug and the rest of your friends follow. you look around. you're surrounded by people who love you, people who care for you. what could possibly go wrong?

“yeah…I'll take the risk.”

2months later :

taglist 🔖 — (thank you to you all <3)

@minhui896 @lirtha97 @haecien @thefroggybazaar @mayashu @jeonghansshitester @wonwoos-wineparty @huening-kawaii @sp1ng @wonwootakemyheart

@ddokye @thepoopdokyeomtouched @zzenkha @nishloves @weird-bookworm @sana-is-ms-rmty @immabecreepin @amxlia-stars

@peachhiz @punkhazardlaw @lockburn-castle @asyre @luchiet @ocyeanicc @wondering-out-loud @odetoyeonjun @tamcitrus @miriamxsworld @kissesfrmwonwoo @cherr-y-eji @jeoncatsworld @youre-on-your-ownkid @addicsvt @bangantokchy @tacosandbitch @sun-daddy-yoriichi @ckline35 @rakshithanotrao @isabellah29 @mangocustard16 @lone-lone-ranger @gyuguys @writingbarnes @scarlet931 @odxrilove @wonwoobestboyy @wollycobbl3-blr

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lady-ashfade · 1 year

Text

Thank you: Soft moment between You and Demon Slayer characters.

Notes: Man, I should be asleep right now because about to be but in a coma by my heart rate- But no, my brain wants this. Only tanjiro is a romantic choice but it still up to you.

I read the motherly HC’s by @midnightwriter21 and i couldn’t help but want to do something to. Thank you for the comforting idea that heals me.

Reader: Female, and sweet and caring. Very motherly.

Characters: Tanjiro Kamado, Nezuko Kamado, Muichiro Tokito

(Romantic/ Platonic)

It had been years since he felt truly at home somewhere. It wasn’t just comfort of those around him, he had nezuko and that was all he need. No matter where he was he had her, and his founded family. But here, with you, was something familiar but distant…

The house smelled of cinnamon, he woke up in fresh clothes and sheets under him. He was warm and felt at peace. He had no idea why this didn’t just feel like a safe house. When he woke up he saw his clothes cleaned and repaired, the holes and blood stains no longer in them. And a cute hair pin for nezuko, which she was hopping up and down for.

When they made their way down the hallway the sweet smell got stronger and it made his mouth water. Nez was the first one to open the kitchen door and rush in, with a hum and a brightened look on her face.

He felt his heart warm as you smiled sweetly at her, flour on your cheek and sweat on your forehead from the warm room. “Come sit down,” you move your hands to show a nicely made sitting area with plates already prepared. “Hope it’s to your liking” He looked at the plates, nez couldn’t eat the food and he felt bad to bring this to your attention, until he looked closely. It wasn’t food at all but pretending food, like for children to play with.

You felt so homely to be around, like one his mom used to have. “I’m also making cookies, because you deserve it.” Tanjiro just looked at you for a minute and let his body take in the feeling of warmth. The sunshine in front of him with all its glory..

He was very grateful and thanked you, he shouted at how nice you had been to him and that he would make up for it. But you refused any help he offered around the house. So for the short time he stayed there, he cherished every second.

(Platonic)

He had never met anyone as gentle as you and he wondered how you got into this line of work, or made it this far without being killed. You weren’t a demon slayer, but a doctor for the near by demon slayers. You ran a safe house, cooked and clean and hosted anyone who needed it.

You ran your hands softly along his arm with some medicine that was cold, he just sat there. He could barely feel you, and he knew if it wasn’t for the medicine being cold he wouldn’t feel it at all. Usually, these things sting the wound but that didn’t happen. “You should get some rest when I’m done here, I’ll bring you a change of clothes.” You smiled at him.

He just looked plainly at you and slowly blinked, but speaking to you. “Do you prefer a red or a blue tooth brush?” What kind of question was that? Really, why would he care. A few seconds you realize he wouldn’t crack but that didn’t hurt you in the slightest. People take time, or maybe they never open up at all. It didn’t matter, as long as they are happy.

You patched him up from every scratch to every bigger wound. You never once let go of your smile, or didn’t try and talk to him when he wasn’t comfortable in doing so. The silence wasn’t filled with tension, it was calming to say the least. Your carful touches and your soft breaths, it was almost like being taken care of a mother…

You stood up when you were all done and clapped your hands slightly together and opened a cabinet. Pulling out a few things, a blue toothbrush, a small towel, a pair of socks and what caught his eyes the most…

A blue lollipop.

“You don’t have to eat it, but all my patients get a treat.” Your voice beamed as you hand him the candy. He stared at it confused and then back up at you. It was very soft, like not even a inch but his lips curled up. “Thank you.” He said quietly.

You just giggled and help him to his room. He didn’t know why you just smiled and acted like a angel. But, it was a nice change.

(Platonic)

While tanjiro chopped firewood, something he begged you to let him do and wouldn’t stop asking about, she had a moment alone with you. She sat beside you, the sun had just set and you did some of your work.

You hummed a sweet tune as you wash the clothes, in your own little world. She stared at you and enjoyed the sound, it was nice to her. Maybe it was a glimpse of the passes when her mother would sing to her and her siblings. Whatever the reason, she was loving this moment.

That was until you stop humming the song, maybe it came to a end but she glared slightly, not mean or anything but in confusion. You heard her make a sound and found her staring at you with her head titled to the side.

You just smiled, “What is it, Nezuko?” You asked with a cheery tone. She just inched closer and tried to hum like you had, her nails pointing at you. “Oh, is this about my humming?” You chuckle as she nodded her head at a rapid speed. “Do you want more?”

When she agreed you smiled, continued to hum a new song your mother had once taught you. A weight pressed on your shoulder and your heart flutter in awe. She closed her eyes and listened to you continue to make the sweet sounds, her face happy and calm.

You knew this moment was more important to you. The place got lonely at times but with the siblings staying you couldn’t help but feel a hole being replaced. It was healing for you in a way, to hum for her like your mother used to do when you slept.

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