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sesamestreep · 8 months

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Din Djarin, 30

30. was it worth it? (from this list) further adventures in that modern au with anti-social baseball cap wearing single dad din djarin because i have no idea what's happening on the show anymore, let's doooo this

Once Din pulls into the driveway, he cuts the engine and sends up a tentative prayer to the universe that the sound is not enough to wake Grogu up. The kid is zonked out in his booster seat in the back, clutching the stuffed animal Din had won him at the fair—at the booth where you shoot a target with a water pistol to make it move, of course, because his aim is still worth writing home about after all these years—and seemingly unbothered by the sudden quiet. Din breathes a sigh of relief and then shifts his focus to the daunting task of trying to get this kid out of his seat, up two flights of stairs, and into the apartment without somehow waking him. It's not going to be easy.

With another sigh, Din opens the door and keeps it there with his foot as he digs around in the center console for his phone and his wallet before pulling the keys out of the ignition. Belatedly, he sees the golden light pouring from the open garage door and realizes Cal must be working in there still. Before Din can properly catch up, Cal is already outside and on his way over.

"I'll uh," Din says, as he gets out, gesturing back at the car, "I'll get this out of your way in a few, I just gotta get the kid upstairs first."

Cal shakes his head, already smiling. "No rush," he says, easily. "We're not going anywhere. And besides, you're always up early anyway. Do it in the morning."

"I don't want to block you all in, if you need to—"

"Like I said, we're not going anywhere. It's fine."

"Well—”

"I'll ask Merrin, if it'll make you feel better! But she will definitely also say it's fine."

Merrin is Cal's—well, Din isn't sure if they're married or not. Cal doesn't wear a ring and Merrin wears dozens, so it's hard to tell. They're definitely a couple, because they do that seamless first person plural thing all the time when they talk about each other, but if they happen to refer to each other in the third person, they just use each other's names, rather than “my spouse” or “my partner”, except for the time Cal—perhaps accidentally—referred to her as "my Merrin" and she made a face and mimed punching him in the stomach for it. They live on the first floor and generally manage the property because they know the owner, which means Cal has all of his tools and his work bench in the garage for his various projects and Merrin tends to the garden out back, which grows a bunch of vegetables and strange plants that Din isn't convinced should be able to survive in this climate. He suspects she has a way with these things but has never bothered to ask about it.

"I'll take your word for it," Din says, reluctantly. "And I appreciate it."

"No problem," Cal replies. "Need any help?"

Din opens the door and starts unbuckling Grogu from his seat. "Uh, I think I'm alright, but thanks."

Cal leans slightly back, so as not to be in the way when Din gently lifts Grogu out of the car and tucks him over his shoulder. "Wow, you really tuckered him out, huh?"

"Yeah. We went to the fair, the, uh, Apple and Trout something or other...?"

Cal laughs. "Peach and Chowder Festival," he corrects. "I know it well."

"This is a strange town."

"I know that too. Looks like you did alright, though."

"Yeah," Din says, gingerly lifting the tail of the stuffed shark in acknowledgement. Another parent at the booth had claimed it was a knockoff of some famous trademarked shark but Din doesn't know about all that. He only knows it was the next best thing in Grogu's mind when there were no frog or lizard plushes to be won. "He's happy, at least."

Cal tips his head to the side, curiously. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"

"Ah, well, you know...crowds and lots of noise and kids all hopped up on sugar...that's not really my thing. But it's not about me, it's about him, so..."

"Yeah," Cal says, with a small smile. He puts a hand gently on Grogu's back. "Bet that makes it all worth it, huh?"

Din suddenly feels very stupid for never bothering to ask Cal or Merrin if they have kids. He’s never been great at that stuff, asking the right questions to really get to know people, and so he can only guess what their situation is. He thinks they're about his age, give or take a few years, and that means they're young enough that, if they had any children, he expects they'd still be living together, but he's not sure about that. They could have kids old enough to be living on their own, he supposes. And they've always been kind to Grogu, never once making a snide comment about him not talking much or needing his space sometimes, the way some other folks do. Sometimes, Cal will even let the kid hang out in the garage to watch him work, waving away Din's concerns about him being too much trouble by pointing to Beady, the cat that's almost always curled up around his neck or perched on his shoulder.

"If I can work with this one around," Cal's fond of saying, "your son's no bother."

Still, Din's not sure how exactly to ask that politely—if they have children of their own or not—especially if the answer is more complicated than a simple yes or no. And there is something complicated and sad about what Cal's expression is doing right now.

"Anyway," he says, cheerfully after a moment, and the expression is gone, tucked away somewhere. "I'll get out of your hair. Just wanted to offer some help if you needed it."

Din clears his throat, thinking about how his therapist is always talking about how he should get better at accepting the kindness other people offer him and also something about how his upbringing had convinced him there's some nobility in suffering needlessly. He probably can get Grogu inside and into bed without any assistance, but it would be easier with help. There had also been a discussion in therapy about depriving people of the satisfaction of showing their love for him by turning down their offers to be of service.

"Actually," he says, feeling foolishly nervous about something so small and seemingly easy, "if you could grab the door for me, that would be a huge help."

"Of course," Cal says, with an easy smile. "Happy to."

"And let’s just, uh, make sure we don't lose the shark,” Din says, as they make their way up the steps. “I don’t think I have it in me to win another one.”

#what is thisssss??? WHO KNOWS???#honestly I’m just trying to capture the energy of the one prompt Phil did where quigon was a Montessori teacher #I might have the details wrong but still #she said what if the Jedi all got to grow old and hang out and be crunchy middle aged weirdos together #and I thought that was great #I just started playing Fallen Order and I love Cal so much I just wanted to write him #I haven’t even met Merrin yet but I love her already I can’t wait for her to destroy me #according to my actual research cal and merrin would be pretty close in age to Din during the Mandalorian??#which is wild???#so here you go #middle aged merrical very good for the soul #cal loves everybody and he just wants to help he’d be such a good neighbor he’s shaped like a FRIEND #okay anyway I added a tag to all my other modern AU Mandalorian prompts on my blog #so you can read them all together if you want #But definitely not necessary to follow anything here #they just do all happen in the same universe #a modern universe if you will #that tag is >>>#single dad green baby #please enjoy #because the chances of me putting any of them on ao3 is slim #taylor swift song prompts #ask #firstelevens #din djarin #grogu #i am not dealing with a new naming convention for him I’m too tired #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #merrical

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aliceramblez · 3 months

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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #husker x reader #husk x reader

3K notes · View notes

beiasluv · 5 months

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don’t you ever grow up | l. norris (4)

yourinsta’s story | landonorris’s story

maxfewtrell’s story

landonorris: you didn’t have to fact check me mate.

: no one or carlos is buying it mate, we know you’re just making excuses to spend time with yn

landonorris: not necessary to point out, at all 🙄

: of course

yourinsta: drive safely 😬

: he definitely arrived in one piece

yourinsta: good. McLaren still needs him.

: and you too?

message was not sent

: right away 🫡

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 25,926 others

f1gossips following the appearance of her son in the instagram story of landonorris, yn ln was spotted in the mclaren garage this morning.

credit to the video owner on twitter

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yourinsta

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 281,146 others

yourinsta congratulations to both of you!! the team is proud of you guys! honored to finally witness it first hand this time!! landonorris oscarpiastri 🧡🙌

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oscarpiastri thank you! 👊 back to you

liked by yourinsta

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yourinsta

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yourinsta thank you uncle lando!!

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landonorris anything for the favorite driver title! 👊

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danielricciardo maybe 😬

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1 year ago

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 286,620 others

landonorris drivers by day, professional babysitters for life 👊

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yourinsta thank you guys! dinner’s on me 🫡

landonorris anytime!

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username i think they got to know each other through lando

username SHUT UP that’s fucking adorable my heart 😔😩

username it’s probably because they’ve spent so much time together at the paddock 😔🥺

username kudos to lando and everyone respecting yn’s decision to keep archie private

username i WOULD literally show off my son if he has lando, daniel and the whole grid as his uncles

username she’s protecting her child 🤷‍♀️

username ikr people. she’s not exploiting her child

yourinsta’s story

yourinsta

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 102,971 others

yourinsta summer break!

view all 26,071 comments

danielricciardo how’s arch doing! love from aus!

yourinsta hi danny! miss you! -arch

danielricciardo aw bud! miss you too! tim tams are on their way!

yourinsta i love you but i cannot go through the Tim tams phase for breakfast, lunch and dinner again 😭

danielricciardo one pack? 🥺

yourinsta fine😔

charles_leclerc nice to see you in monaco! maman looks forward to see you both again soon!

yourinsta thank you! it was nice meeting her, glad she loved arch 😊

username I AM SO JEALOUS OF ARCHIE WHAT?? HE KNOWS THE LECLERC AS WELL 😭

username SO NO ONE is talking about her story.

username lando, you’re acting fishy ASF

username the flowers, even inviting her to monaco for the summer break? yeah, that’s obviously what drivers and their engineers do right?? 😩

username MAX tell us something WE DONT KNOW

username he thought he was slick by giving the flowers though archie huhhh? well played, lando

username I feel bad asf for oscar 😭

username shut UP oscar definitely ships them so bad

username EVERYTIME she appears in McLaren challenge, oscar just exits 😭

username lando, this is your warning cus yn is for the girls ‼️‼️

username IKR?? she has been slaying as a icon for so long, and I can’t handle the thought of her being with lando 😭😭

username let her be happy with who she wants? PEOPLE

username he is no longer going to be ‘uncle’ lando 😭😔

username GOOD DAY FOR ME 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I’m sure they are mature enough 🤷‍♀️ she has been through archie's dad before. miss girl should know what she wants

username PREACH BESTIE

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 384,281 others

lando.png back to the seas 👊 yourinsta

view all 96,281 comments

yourinsta thanks for babysitting! 🤭

lando.png always 🙌

username he didn’t even bother to tag max and his friends LMAOOOO

username he’s got his priorities straight

username when’s the hard launch bestie.

username it’s coming, bestie, I COULD FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING BRAIN

username delulu is THE solulu, PREACHHH

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen and 986,267 others

landonorris sorry guys :)

view all 320,159 comments

carlossainz55 congratulations, mate 👊

username A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR THE SCAPEGOAT

yall ate the poll uppppp 🥺🫶🤪 slayed

if you liked it, interactions and COMMENTS would be appreciated!! if not, then yolo ig.

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

Text

yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.

PART TWO

Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.

If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.

So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her.

Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point.

This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.

And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all.

Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.

A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you.

In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head.

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.”

Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?”

You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”

“Then why -”

“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.”

His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel.

“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything.

Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.

“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!”

Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man.

But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.

If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out.

You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners.

Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her.

You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.”

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse.

When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room.

You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number.

“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you.

“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised.

“Sir -” You began.

“Yulian, please.”

“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.”

You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…

“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.”

You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?”

He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”

“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.”

Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.

“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.

Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time.

He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home.

As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes.

It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped.

She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right?

The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment.

“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room.

“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley.

Her reaction was….amusing.

After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good.

Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too.

But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all.

Taglist

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@majestichugs

@abelheilonwife

@suiana

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@navierkalani

@yanderefangirl

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #fem!reader #yandere! literary agent #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #ns.fw #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior

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comfortless · 3 days

Note

dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

#könig x reader #konig x reader

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galacticgraffiti · 6 months

Text

✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV

⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆

Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────

Oh, to be Alone with You

Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.

Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.

Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well- rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.

At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.

Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by too many walls and a too-small bed frame.

Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.

He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-

No.

Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.

No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:

More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.

Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.

He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:

He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.

And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.

All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.

The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.

Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.

A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.

He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.

Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.

Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.

Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.

The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.

If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.

Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…

She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.

“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”

“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.

She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.

Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.

He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.

Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.

“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.

“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”

“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”

Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.

A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.

Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.

“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”

Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.

She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.

“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”

She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.

“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”

Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.

“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”

The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.

“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”

With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.

“Halsin, I-”

His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.

I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba

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#bg3 #halsin #halsin x reader #in some capacity i suppose #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #halsin bg3 #nsft #halsin x f!reader #gala writes

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euaphoric · 7 months

Text

🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 2. 🕸️

Differences

[PAIRING] haechan x f!reader

[GENRE] college au, popular jock x loner, pwp [WARNINGS] angst?, smut, lowkey perv!hc, dry humping, premature ejaculation

summary: haechan was everything you’re not: popular, wealthy, multitalented, and otherworldly attractive. you despise people that get everything handed to them, wanting nothing to do with him— until you get paired up as partners for a project together…

wc -> 2.2k

A/N: so uhhh, this was very much not supposed to be this long but sometimes i just keep going and don’t know when to stop tbh .-. alsoo i hit 1k followers today thanks sm it rlly means a lot 🫶🫶

kinktober m.list

“fuckk, it’s pouring!” you shrill from the sudden heavy downpour, hovering your chemistry textbook over your head which barely shields anything. of course you didn’t predict these weather conditions (and didn’t bother to check your weather app beforehand) so you thought not to bring a jacket. it’s not like it was some light drizzle going on either, it was raining buckets outside— and you were so fucked. you pick up your speed, practically sprinting to the bus stop, completely forgetting that haechan was right behind this whole time. it honestly still hasn’t fully clicked in your mind that you were now lab partners and had to work together for the entire remaning semester. you weren’t thrilled about it, frankly, you were hoping anyone but haechan but since you have the worst possible luck known to existence, you got paired with him by a random draw. now you’re stuck with him for the next 3-4 months…

“damn, i think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard you curse,” haechan quickly catches up with you, taken aback by your choice of language, “wait- here, take this.” he pulls his football letterman jacket off his body, slinging it around your shoulders. “uh- no it’s okay, i’ll be fine.. don’t worry!” you shook your head to refuse but haechan just kept insisting, telling you how he was raised to be a ‘gentleman’ and it’d be morally wrong of him not to offer his jacket to a woman when it’s raining. “just take it y/n, it’s not gonna kill ya!” he promises, only satisfied once you finally cave in after numerous attempts going back and forth. you may have let him win this round but you definitely won’t be going easy on him next time, that’s for certain.

yeah haechan may be nice and all but that doesn’t make him a saint or any different than everyone else, he’s just a regular guy to you, nothing more or less. you’ve known him for a grand total of 2.5 days and on the first day of class you just so happened to be assigned as permanent lab partners with him — the most popular guy at uni practically. haechan was the topic of every girl’s discussion, whether it was wondering if he came from a loaded family, is single or has a girlfriend, or how he can afford a $4,500 pair of sneakers, theres always a spotlight drawn to him somehow. frankly you didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of that stuff, you didn’t care much to make a lot of friends nor socialize with everyone. ever since middle school you’ve preferred to be alone, it’s not something you’re embarrassed about, you just value your education more than temporary friendships.

when it was announced that you’d be partners with haechan word spread around quickly, you couldn’t stand attention being cemented on you but haechan simply thrived off that notion. he craved all the gossip about him because he’s an attention whore— at least, that was your impression of him when you first met. you personally have no interest in getting to know him further than finishing this project, he probably has dozens of girls in his phone he can call to hook up with every day if he wanted to. ‘it’s just for one semester y/n you can do this… you’ll be fine.’ you keep telling yourself over and over. after what felt like ages the bus finally came, saving you from standing in silence with him any longer than necessary. soon as the door opens you make a dash for it, scanning your bus pass and looking for a seat within the crowded aisles. there just so happened to be 2 free open seats near the back so you scurry to sit down as haechan follows, taking the seat next to yours.

just as you were about to put in your airpods and shut out the world, haechan turns over to ask something. “so.. why’d you want me to come to your dorm instead of mine?” his face gets unreasonably close to you, completely invading your personal space. “it’s just.. more quiet i guess.” you awkwardly reply, slowly backing away from his overbearing presence. you must admit though, whatever cologne he was wearing smelled really good. “why’re you assuming that my place would be loud? do me and my friends really seem like that much of obnoxious assholes?” he cocks his eyebrow, confused by your lack of enthusiasm. it’s not unusual for haechan to be uninterested in someone but it’s pretty rare for him to find the opposite. the more you push him away the more he wants to know about you, your cold personality fueled a burning desire inside that he hasn’t felt in ages. it’s like having a one-sided crush, he enjoys the chase of going after what’s unattainable, he loves a challenge.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

“have you always been this quiet your whole life?” haechan proceeds to bother you yet again while you’re writing notes for the project down. you thought flat out ignoring him would work in your favor, he’s already asked about five questions already and you’ve yet to answer any of them — he doesn’t give up as easy as you thought however. “no seriously, did i do something? is there a reason why you act so cold towards me?” there he fucking goes again. if he actually paid attention he’d notice that you don’t exclusively treat him any differently than everyone else, you didn’t want a partner for this project and rather work on it alone from the start. he’s so full of himself that he can’t even fathom the idea of someone not wanting to shower every ounce of their undying love and attention for him. “god… do you ever shut up?” you lowly mutter under your breath, getting up from your table to go grab something. thankfully you don’t think he heard you, all you got in return was a simple “huh?” still not acknowledging his other questions, you come back with a pumpkin spice candle, setting it on your window sill to light it. you may or may not have a slight obsession with candles, you’ve hoarded so many to the point you lost count but since it’s fall why not bring out your favorite scent of the season. plus it’ll ventilate the room so you don’t have to be reminded of haechan’s strong cologne, which you actually liked but refuse to give his already inflated ego such a compliment.

after an hour or so of drafting outlines for the project you take a break to get some water, coming back to your motionless partner with a bored look on his face. he made a few contributions but you mostly did the work, which you don’t mind doing anyway since you’re confident in your academic abilities. you’ve been sensing haechan’s eyes on you all night, as you took a sip from the glass you feel the most intense awkwardness, you’re hoping he asks something dumb at this point. “are you a virgin?” he blurts out on a whim. you almost spit out your water, there’s no way in hell he just asked you that. “wait— w-what?” all of a sudden you’re a flustered mess and can’t talk properly, why would he want to know something so personal like that anyway? “ah, so you do talk!” haechan belts out a chuckle, gloating in his small victory, “i just wanted a reaction out of ya and finally got it!” you wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face, maybe you were right to call him a pretentious asshole the first day you met. “y’know i can report you to the board for asking your lab partner weird sexual questions, right?” you try your best to sound intimidating but it doesn’t seem to faze him one bit, instead he continues leaning in closer. “stop pretending like you don’t secretly like it,” your skin collects goosebumps when his palm lands on your thigh, “‘cause for someone who supposedly doesn’t like me is acting awfully comfy with me right now.” his grin widens as he looks down, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you realize both your legs were intertwined together under the table.

you shriek in a panic, scooting your chair away to the far end of the table, “in your fucking dreams. i actually don’t, perv.” scoffing at his boldness, this is definitely a guy who thinks he can have his way with anyone he wants. even if you did find him attractive that still doesn’t mean you inherently want to sleep him. his face is really pretty though, like way above average, you 100% get why he’s so popular and some part of you wants to find out what all the hype’s about. a little test drive wouldn’t hurt anything, right? “awe, you sound so cute when you swear,” he teases, yet again moving close to you with no regards of personal space, “would sound better if you were moaning it as i fill you up with my cock.” his eyes stare at your lips intensely, wanting more than anything to violently make out with you. that last sentence shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did, but you couldn’t help yourself anymore, you were done trying to fight it. as your lips crash into his, a surge of heat rushes through your body, tilting your head slightly sideways to gain more access. his soft lips felt buttery smooth against yours, melting instantly as he brings his hands to wrap around your waist firmly.

as you run your fingers along the entirety of his length, slowly rubbing his shaft through his jeans. you hear how pretty he sounds when he moans, loving every bit of it in your ear. you keep stroking and feeling haechan’s cock, choosing when to go slow or fast. it made you undoubtedly wet knowing someone like you could turn him on, feeling how stiff his cock got soon as you touched him, pulsating in the palm of your hand. his face scrunches as if he just sucked on a lemon, erratically rutting his hips up as his breathing gets heavier. “ah- shiiit..” he was so far gone, gritting his teeth from the intense pleasure when he suddenly jerks up from out of your grasp. “dammit, dammit, dammit” he whispers under his breath, you strike a confused look when he flinches from you trying to touch him again. it doesn’t make sense how eager he was just a minute ago but is now doing a literal 180. “i already came..” the guilt and embarrassment was apparent in his voice. how could a girl like you even make a guy cum just from simply touching them? he’s definitely had much more experience than you ever will. “i’m not a virgin, are you?” you decide to finally entertain his question, you’ve got nothing left to lose anymore. he definitely wasn’t expecting that answer at all, he was really hoping he could be your first. “yeah, me neither, but you sure do make me feel like one again ..” this is probably the first time something like this has ever even happened to him.

for the past 15 minutes you’ve been grinding up and down against haechan to get his dick hard again, which didn’t take long to do at all. closing your eyes in pleasure as his teeth grazed your skin, biting gently on the sweet spot of your neck. “nnghh~” you mewl, feeling so needy and helpless at the moment, all you could do was continue sensually rolling, massaging, and rubbing your aching core onto his clothed crotch. you really did want more but you couldn’t give it all up too easily, this is all he’s getting from you until you officially say so. “fuck.. feels ssoo gooood..” haechan groans, hips bucking at any slightest movement you make, he needs to fuck your tight cunt so bad. “y-yeah, feels good? wan’ m-more?” you brace your shaky hands on both his shoulders for leverage, feeling the tent in his pants stiffen as you rock your hips in sync with his. the fact you two were acting like some animals in heat, going at it and humping each other fully clothed was surreal to you. it had to be that intoxicating cologne he wore that reeled you in. as you were whimpering and crying out to him, haechan keeps expressing how much he needs you, how badly he wants to be inside. “need this throbbing little cunt to swallow my cock like right now.. i wanna be buried so deep inside.. need to feel your walls clench as you twitch and cum around my shaft, pretty please…” he grunts, already completely whipped and ready to risk it all for you. it didn’t take much for him to cum the second time either, granted he lasted longer than the first time but still wasn’t his best. the way you roll your hips and moan out his name was enough to get the blood rushing through his veins, pushed to his breaking point once again.

you came with him the second time, tangling your fingers in his messy brown hair. a string of curses leave your mouth as you chase your high, still slowly grinding on top of him as you rest your head on his shoulder. “now i understand why you’re so quiet..” he murmurs, veiny hands still finding purchase around your delicate waist. you of course wondered why, which he simply responded with “‘cause your actions do all the talking for you instead.”

#kinktober 2023 #haechan smut #haechan drabbles #haechan x f reader #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x female reader #haechan imagines

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dear-ao3 · 8 months

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hello and greetings to all my friends moving into college dorms this time of year!!!

while it is a well known fact that college dorms are often not cleaned at all between people, it is important to tell the administration about things that are absolutely Abysmal.

for example: things that are beyond broken, extremely dirty conditions, clear evidence of vomit/bodily fluids, anything that plain doesn’t work, etc.

to be clear, i am not talking about things that can be fixed with a bottle of clorox wipes, some disinfectant, or a screwdriver. these are things that are either a health hazard or are not in proper working condition.

my credentials on this matter: i was a resident assistant for 2 years. i’ve seen some shit.

here’s what you can do!!!

do not try to talk to anyone in person ESPECIALLY on move in day. all administration that can deal with your problems are probably dealing with bigger problems. move in day is an absolute mess. don’t try and bother res life on move in day unless you physically cannot move into your room for some reason (like there’s a clear cut maintenance problem). you can try to talk to someone, but chances are it won’t get you anywhere other than frustration. it sucks, but that’s the reality of it.

take before and after pictures!!! document everything!!! make sure your pictures are clear, take photos, etc. you will need these. show what you did to clean/fix the problem if necessary.

send a long and detailed email to the following people: the director of residential life, the head of facilities/ building management, the office of accessibility/ student services/whatever it’s called on your campus (even if it is not an accessibility issue usually these people are the fastest to respond), and the college president (often they won’t respond but it gets everyone else’s attention). if applicable you can also send the email to the head of campus safety/security and student health services/ health center). include your photos and make the email as long and detailed as possible. send this email ASAP. you need a paper trail. if you got get a response in three business days send a follow up email and go down to the res life office (often they will say they are busy and no one can speak to you, but sometimes you just have to annoy the crap out of them)

tell your ra. tell them multiple times. a lot of the time they can’t do anything about it, but they can tell their supervisor about it.

keep pestering people until you get an answer. don’t feel bad about it. you should not be paying tuition to live in a shit hole that violates health codes. a lot of the time they can’t move you elsewhere, but the school should still know about the problem.

get your parents involved as a last resort. generally offices hate dealing with parents but if you’ve exhausted all other avenues then go ahead and do it.

i wish you all the best of luck, remember that you are in college to learn and learning how to deal with stubborn administration is definitely one of those things. a little dirt is normal, but sticky carpets, broken glass, broken thermostats, etc, are not. you’re paying to go there, get someone to fix it.

#SINCERELY #someone who has spent 10 hours cleaning her younger sisters college apartment and it is still not clean #my dad rented a carpet cleaner from home depot that’s how bad it was #that is Unacceptable #not a tag #from saph #college life

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devildom-moss · 6 months

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October poll story

Barbatos - Monster kink

(Barbatos x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (top!Barbatos / bottom!MC) (NSFW tags: monster!Barbatos - non-canon/enhanced demonic features including increased greed and lust, claws, sharp teeth, forked tongue that matches his tail, bigger tail, and bigger "tail"; sex involving magic; no specified sex organs for MC; oral - receiving; penetration - receiving; tail penetration; double stuffed by one man - tail and penis penetration simultaneously; technically masturbation; mild bloodplay, mild primal play; begging; multiple orgasms; seriously judging myself at this point CNC - Somno; mild temperature play; implied being used as a human sex toy; no lube - but tail is naturally wet, so mostly no lube; no condom; overstim - receiving; creampie; mentions of very trusting sex)

(other tags: Plot heavy - in the first half, then it basically all erotica, everyone is annoyed with Solomon poor guy kinda?)

Word Count: +4,600 new longest fic for me?

When you heard that Diavolo was going on an overnight trip without Barbatos, you knew you had to go to the castle and get as much alone time as you could with your favorite butler. Considering that Diavolo was also being left in Lucifer’s very capable hands during the trip, you figured Barbatos wouldn’t be in the anxious state that typically overcame him when Lord Diavolo wasn’t under his close watch. So, when you turned up unannounced at the castle that morning only for Little D. no. 2 to answer the door, something seemed off. You tried not to worry, though. Barbatos was probably preoccupied with one of his many tasks.

“Well, if it isn’t Number 2, how are you doing today?” You smiled and patted his head.

“MC! I’m so happy to see you! Are you here to visit Mr. Barbatos? Ooh, I wonder if he’ll come out of his room for you. No one has seen him at all this morning, and when I knocked on his door to check for him, I heard this weird noise before he asked me to leave him alone. Can you believe that? Well, I thought maybe he wasn’t feeling good, so I brought him some tea – now, it wasn’t anywhere near as good as the tea he makes, but when I brought it, he told me that it wasn’t necessary. I left it at the door, but guess what? When I checked back, the tea was cold and untouched. I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to call anyone yet because that seems like something Mr. Barbatos would get mad at me for, but since you’re already here, maybe you could check on him and make sure he’s okay.” The monologue recounting this morning’s events spilled from Number 2’s mouth quickly and with no room for interruption.

Without much thought, you had followed Number 2 in the direction of Barbatos’s room – some attempt to physically follow along with his story as your brain processed the information. You let the words absorb into your mind, fishing for a relevant question. It was already past 10AM. Barbatos was always up and about by now. “Did he sound sick?”

“Can’t say. If not sick, he definitely sounded strange – like he was talking with his mouth half-full or something.” Number 2 hummed and tilted his head to the side. “Or, you know how when you bite your tongue or burn it on your soup because it smells too good not to eat it right away – even though Mr. Barbatos warned you to be careful and let it cool?”

“Sure.” You shook your head and stared down the hall. Barbatos’s room was just a few doors down.

“Anyway, I think something is wrong, so I’d really appreciate it if you could look out for Mr. Barbatos. If he really is sick, you’ll take care of him, right?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Great.” Little D. no. 2 stopped in front of Barbatos’s door and turned around to face you. “I’ll leave it to you. I’m sure the rest of us can find a way to keep the castle running while you tend to Mr. Barbatos, so don’t worry about anything else!”

“Thank you, Number 2. You’re so reliable.” You could tell how worried and eager to help he was. Number 2 nodded and left you outside of Barbatos’s door. You stood there silently for a second, listening for any strange noises or coughs, before gently knocking. “Barbatos, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“MC?” Your name was quiet and muffled.

“Barbatos? I’m going to enter, alright?”

“Wait. I –” he started to protest in an unusually slurred speech, but it was too late. You had already opened the door.

Barbatos’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of his bedroom. He had backed himself against the nearest wall. His typically gloved hands were bare, revealing sharp, claw-like nails. One of those hands shot up over his mouth. You heard his tail thump against the wall a few times before he grabbed it with his free hand, stilling its aggravated motions.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him cautiously. He looked different – more demonic than usual.

“Solomon,” Barbatos responded with his hand still over his mouth, only exacerbating his strange enunciation. He was frozen in place.

Of course. You sighed and shut your eyes. What did he do this time? You closed the door behind you and took a few steps into the room. Barbatos eyed you with every move – even as you reached into your pocket to pull out your D.D.D.

“I’ll call him, okay?”

You waited for the phone to ring once before you put it on speaker. Solomon picked up in seconds. “MC, my adorable apprentice, what can I do for you?”

“What the fuck did you do to Barbatos?” you asked him aggressively.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong with him, and he said it’s your fault.” Technically, that was a bit of a jump considering the facts you had at hand, but it was a logical conclusion.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Let’s see, slightly glowing eyes and the sudden appearance of claws to start. And – if you don’t mind me adding, Barbatos – his tail looks bigger than before.”

“His tail . . .is bigger?”

“Longer. Thicker. Girthier. Do you need more adjectives?”

“Just his tail?”

“For fucks sake. I didn’t strip him down and give him a full body exam.”

Solomon hummed. “Anything else?”

“He sounds weird – like he has a lisp.” You glanced over at Barbatos, whose cheeks had grown pinker since the beginning of the call. He dropped his hand slowly and opened his mouth, revealing sharp teeth and a long, forked tongue that looked like his tail. A shiver shot down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath before adding, “that’s new.”

“What’s new?” Solomon asked, unable to disguise his intrigue.

“Sharp teeth and a forked tongue.”

You heard a breezy laugh on the other end of the line. “So, good news: I figured out what happened. I accidentally swapped the magical tea blend I made for Barbatos with the one I made for Asmodeus. Oops.”

“Oops?” You sighed while Barbatos let out a low, guttural growl.

“Asmo asked me for a tea to enhance some of his more demonic features for a photoshoot. It seems Barbatos got Asmo’s tea, so Asmo – oh, speak of the devil. He’s calling.”

“Add him to our call.” You looked over at Barbatos, wishing you could apologize for Solomon’s behavior silently.

“What gives, Solomon? Your tea was a total flop. I tested it as soon as I got up this morning. I wanted to check out my enhanced demon features before the shoot tomorrow – maybe indulge in them a bit on my own. Nothing has happened. You promised quick results. I’m still my same, gorgeous self, and all your stupid potion did was give me the urge to organize all of my make-up and tidy half of my closet. I was really depending on you to come through for me here.” Asmo complained, clearly annoyed by Solomon’s failure.

“You basically made Adderall tea for Barbatos?” you asked, staring between Barbatos and your phone.

“Barbatos?” Asmo questioned. “Also, hey, MC~! Are you calling to yell at Solomon, too?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You nodded.

“Can I speak?” Solomon added quickly, coming to his own defense since no one else was going to. “First, Barbatos asked for something to soothe him and enhance productivity so he could make good use of his day without Diavolo. Second, we had a little mix up, Asmo –”

“ – we?” you interrupted.

“Okay, I had a mix up. You have the blend I made for Barbatos. Barbatos took some of yours. MC is with him now.”

“Ooh. Enhanced demon form Barbatos sounds sexy. Does he look sexy, MC?” Asmo cooed.

“Focus, Asmo,” you responded, too embarrassed to admit the truth. Well, the truth other than that Solomon clearly sucked at making magical Adderall.

“Asmo. I have plenty of the magical blend I made for you left over. I’ll bring it by in a bit, alright? Will that resolve everything on your end?” Solomon’s voice sounded sweet, but there was a grave calmness to it.

“Yes.”

“Then hang up and wait for me, please.” Asmo did as Solomon asked, leaving the sorcerer to clean up the rest of his mess. “As for you and Barbatos, MC, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do to reverse the effects. Depending on how much he drank, it should wear off anywhere within a few minutes to a full day. Until then, I suggest you leave Barbatos alone. All of his demonic senses are heightened – that includes his urges. He may be dangerous to be around until the effects clear up.”

You looked at Barbatos. His glowing eyes were wide and damp, and his gaze hadn’t left you once during the entire call; even when you looked away, you could feel him staring. His knuckles were white from gripping his tail so tightly. He was even trembling slightly. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t do that. He looks miserable like this. I’m not leaving him. It’ll be fine, just trust me.”

“MC.” Solomon wanted to warn you against it again, but there was no use in arguing with you. “Be careful and call me if you need me.”

“Alright, and Solomon? Learn how to label your shit.” You said it sweetly, but he knew you were livid.

“Sorry! Don’t be mad.”

You hung up the phone and returned your attention to Barbatos. He backed away, pressing his shoulders flush against the wall, as you approached him. It was hard to believe that this was a more demonic version of Barbatos. He seemed so timid and scared. Slowly, you reached your hand out to smooth his hair down. His low growl echoed off the walls like there was thunder muffled inside his chest.

Barbatos gulped and opened his mouth to speak, showing you a glimpse of those magic-sharpened teeth and that tongue – now forked and dyed black and aqua. Overcome by a sudden shyness about his new state, Barbatos covered his mouth again to speak. His breath was unsteady, and his words were quiet. “You should go.”

“But you look miserable. Isn’t there something I can do to help?”

Barbatos dropped his hand, and his gaze followed, landing on the floor. “Help? Please don’t tempt me when I’m like this. I’ve been holding back since you walked into that door – since I first caught your scent from down the hall, if I’m honest.”

You inched closer, testing the waters – testing his control before you cupped his cheeks in your hands and searched his face. When you finally caught his gaze, you realized up-close how unusually terrified he was. You’d never seen him like this, and it only made you want to protect him more – to soothe the fear this spell had pulled from him. Barbatos bit his lip, and for a second you worried he might draw blood, but he didn’t.

“Please,” Barbatos begged with a shaky exhale. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, hoping to ease his mind. “Don’t touch me any further. I’ll only want more. I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Greed. That was his innate sin. You knew that, and it had never been a concern – even when he lost control. There was always a spark of fear – worry on the lighter days – in his eyes when you caused his composure to faulter. It flashed like lightning. Sometimes, you had to wonder if you had seen anything at all or if your eyes – if his eyes – were playing tricks on you.

The love Barbatos offered was a love that said, “I would like to cherish you always. I will treat you sweetly, and if I must be rough, it will be thoughtful and restrained.” He had never pushed your limits – never even toed the line – unless you asked him to. Now, he was warning you that he did not know his own limits. A dark, selfish, possessive need in him threatened to take everything you would offer him and then some. Barbatos was pleading with you to turn him down, to not indulge him. This was your last chance, and you knew it. All his willpower, reduced into one last-ditch effort to dissuade your trust in him – a final, feeble, “please.”

When you brought your lips to his, it was over. Until that potion wore off, he could indulge his greed until he was sick and bursting with sin; until every ounce of it had spilled over into you, you had committed to take it.

Barbatos wasted no time deepening the kiss. His forked tongue slithered into your mouth, wet and oddly cool compared to the heat of his breath. It wasn’t unpleasant; in fact, you felt a slight shame in how erotic you found this strange new sensation. His tongue entwined with yours like it had never done before. Barbatos also found himself aroused by his new abilities – even more so when you moaned for him. Eager to explore further, Barbatos plunged his tongue deeper down your throat until you could barely breathe. You felt seconds – millimeters – away from gagging on him and pressed against his chest, trying to break the kiss.

Barbatos pulled away, allowing your lungs to recover, but the desperation on his face was worse than ever. Panting and ravenous, he spoke in half-growls: “More. I need more.”

His impatience displayed itself in the way he stripped you of your clothes – reckless with buttons and balling the fabric up tightly in his hands. All the restraint he had went towards refraining from tearing your clothes to shreds. He needed access to more of your body, and with every bit of skin he revealed, Barbatos licked, sucked, and bit part of your exposed flesh.

The feeling of his cool tongue gliding up your forearm made you shiver. Barbatos sank his sharp teeth into your shoulder, breaking the skin and sending a tingling pain through your body. He soothed it by running his soft tongue over the bite mark in slow circles before he licked a trail up your neck, paving a path for him to place hickeys along. Time was lost to you between Barbatos sucking your neck and pawing at your naked body. The sensation of his claws gently scraping along your lower back left you arching into him.

When Barbatos was satisfied with his assault on your neck, he dropped to your chest, marking you and teasing your nipples between the prongs of his tongue. For someone who claimed to be unable to control himself, he sure was taking his sweet time building up your pleasure. If he hadn’t dipped between your legs when he did, you might have found yourself reduced to begging for him.

Barbatos took in the sight of how aroused he had gotten you. His breathing was labored, causing his chest and shoulders to heave. He had waited long enough. You felt his tail wrap around your thigh and pull you closer until you were right in front of his face. His warm breath primed your body for that first, slow, tender lick. Followed by another. Then, one more before his tongue was swirling circles around you. He sucked and licked you ravenously, moaning repeatedly into your body. Barbatos’s moaning was peppered with the occasional growl – reminding you, lest the lust caused you to forget, that Barbatos was an untethered beast.

He clawed up your thighs in the same ravenous manner. Claws sank into the flesh of your ass and thighs, scratching you and pulling you back against him whenever you had squirmed too far away for his liking. You couldn’t escape the constant barrage of stimulation and pleasure. Barbatos refused to stop until he pulled an orgasm out of you. Even then, he overstimulated your sensitive skin with a few teasing licks, cleaning up some of the mess he had made of you. Your knees buckled, but Barbatos got to his feet and pulled you close to support you.

You had not even caught your breath nor come down from your high before Barbatos was kissing you again. He slipped his cum-stained tongue back down your throat, ensuring that you tasted yourself. A low growl rumbled deep in Barbatos’s chest that shook you to your core. The storm had not passed. You weren’t even in the eye of it yet.

As Barbatos continued to kiss you, the familiar sensation of his tail wrapping around your thigh caught your attention. This time, instead of pulling you close, he pulled your legs apart. Had he not been holding you tight, you would have stumbled with the sudden jolt. The silky tips of his forked-tendril-like tail teased between your legs in gentle alternating strokes, occasionally lingering to cup you for a few seconds before the pressure slipped away. Barbatos was building you up all over again. You gripped his shoulders, simultaneously trying to ground and support yourself.

Despite the cloud of lust disorienting him, Barbatos recognized the signs of your weakness and dragged you towards his bed. Even as he pulled you across the room, his tail refused to stop teasing you and preparing you for what was to come. Barbatos had no sooner finally stopped kissing you when your back hit his mattress with a soft thud. Staring up at him, you saw a distorted image of the demon you adored. Maybe it was the enhanced demonic features and those glowing green eyes, or maybe it was the look on his face that told you he was not quite the same Barbatos. His hunger for you had never been this strong – perhaps it would never be this primal and ferocious again. Repressing any fear or hesitation, you wanted to revel in his uninhibited lust.

Fortunately, Barbatos’s tail had a natural wetness to it that aided in the insertion. He lacked the clarity and patience to apply lube before the tips of his tail squirmed into your body. Barbatos delighted in the way your face contorted in pleasure – how you bit your lip to hold back a moan. The prongs of his tail felt cool and soft as they stretched you out, applying pressure to the most sensitive places inside of you. You writhed under him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to touch you more.

Barbatos scratched his claws gently down your ribs and towards your navel. He fucked deeper into you with his tail and applied slight pressure to your pelvis with his palm, stretching his fingers out above your stomach. Those claws loomed threateningly above your skin while his tail pumped in and out of you. You thought his tail had looked bigger than before, but now you could feel just how much thicker he was. However, you only had a few seconds to dwell on the size before the threat of claws came to fruition and dug into your stomach. The outermost layer of skin split for him, and five distinct pink marks appeared on your stomach; he nearly drew blood. You whined at the pain, but the way your back arched and your muscles tightened told Barbatos that you were in more pleasure than pain.

A brief flash of normalcy came when you heard Barbatos chuckle and saw his lips tug into a wicked smile. “Are you cumming again?”

The noises you were making as another wave of intense pleasure overtook you were the only response Barbatos needed. He was kind enough to slow the movements of his tail as you tried to bring yourself down. It wasn’t fair. Barbatos was making you feel incredible. You were supposed to be the one taking care of him, but there you were, stripped and writhing on your back. All the while, Barbatos was still fully clothed – barring the lack of his standard gloves which had already been removed prior to your arrival. You wanted to make him feel good too.

You reached out for his pants, trying to undo them so you could at least touch him, but Barbatos took hold of your hands and stopped you. “Please, let me focus on you for a bit longer. Please?”

There was no sweetness in his begging – only desperation. It was less of a plea and more of a demand. Refusal seemed off the table, even if you chose it, but you couldn’t. You could hardly refuse Barbatos when he said “please” under normal circumstances – and even less so when he stared at you with such wanton desire.

Barbatos entwined his fingers with yours and held your hands while he watched you come apart on his tail. The way you rolled your hips to get him to press the spot that left your mouth agape was so cute. If he had been gifted with more patience and less greed, Barbatos would have relished in the sight of you fucking yourself on his tail and using him – especially in the exhausted, fucked-out state you were in. Did you realize how flushed you were? Could you feel how hot your skin had become? Were you aware that you had scarcely stopped whimpering and moaning for him in the last few minutes?

“You’re taking it so well,” Barbatos cooed. His affectionate gaze held your attention, even as he pulled another intense wave of pleasure from you. Something about the dim glow of his eyes captivated you. “You’re doing such a good job for me, but can you keep it up?”

Barbatos slid his tail half-way out of you as he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He was trying to go back down on you, but with no opportunity to recover, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. You tugged his hair and stopped his lips and tongue from overstimulating you, earning a whine from him.

“Barbatos, I need you to fuck me now,” you demanded. You couldn’t take another round without at least making him cum once.

Barbatos savored that desperation in you – even if it was just a fraction of his own. He nuzzled your inner thigh playfully. “Just one more taste?”

“No.” You pulled his hair again and made him look at you. “I need it now.”

“Very well.” Barbatos pulled his tail out of you completely and got to his feet. For a second, the way he spoke was so calm that you believed the tea must have been wearing off. Those shining green eyes stayed fixed on your body as he removed his clothes, tossing them into a dark corner of the room. Perhaps the storm was showing signs of passing.

When Barbatos dropped his pants, you couldn’t keep your eyes off the bulge in his underwear and the damp stain, but he didn’t stay contained for long. He stripped fully, finally releasing his cock. He was so hard, and he dripped precum onto the floor. Your mouth watered. Well, if Solomon asked again, it wasn’t just Barbatos’s tail that was bigger than usual. However, you had already taken his tail; you could take this, too. You wanted it.

Your eyes glanced back up at Barbatos’s face as he aligned himself, rubbing his dick against your entrance. Those glowing eyes caught yours, stalling your breath. Even in the dim lighting, those eyes now seemed to be the darkest thing in the room. A low, satisfied growl escaped Barbatos – the last warning from a predator closing in on his prey. The storm was not over, you had merely found yourself in the eye of it for one brief, relenting moment.

He rocked his hips into you, relying on precum and the combined fluids from you and his tail to lubricate himself as he slowly pushed every inch he could get into you. You gasped. The sensation was so different from his tail – so much warmer, pulsating and throbbing inside of you. That initial slow thrust was for your benefit, but it was not intended to set his pace. Barbatos quickly picked up speed, transitioning into rapid, shallow thrusts that repeatedly rubbed against your walls. Still, he seemed to be focusing on maximizing your pleasure.

“I need more,” Barbatos warned you, but you were drowning in too much pleasure, moaning and panting beneath him, to register his warning.

Instead, you whimpered at the shock of Barbatos slipping his tail inside of you. The forked ends swirled around Barbatos’s cock as he continued fucking you, stimulating you both at the same time. It felt like thick, cool, squirming ridges around a hot, throbbing core. Not even an advanced toy could do this to you. But it wasn’t enough for him. Barbatos reached down between your legs to stimulate you further – somehow lucid enough to take care not to scratch you. His touch was light and gentle, contrasting his other insatiable actions, and making your head spin. It was all too much for you. You came again, tightening around Barbatos as you did. He kept fucking you through it.

A pleased moan escaped Barbatos, signaling that he was close. His hands slid up your body slowly, and then, without warning, he clawed down your sides and grabbed your hips. A stinging sensation immediately followed. He gripped your hips so firmly that his claws broke the skin as he forced himself so deep into you that it almost ached. Barbatos gave you a few more deep thrusts before he bottomed out and held you in place. He pumped his cum into the deepest parts of you, filling you up.

Barbatos lolled his head back with a sigh and a smirk. His chest heaved. It took you squirming against his pelvis for Barbatos to realize that he was still holding your hips up against him. He slid his cock out of you, released his tail’s grip around himself, and gently laid you back down.

You looked so blissful and exhausted, but Barbatos had just gotten started. Simply looking at your flushed face and heaving chest was making him hard again. He caressed your cheek; some of the blood he had drawn from clawing at your hips smeared onto your skin. Barbatos leaned down and licked up the mess. When your cheek was clean once more, Barbatos whispered into your ear, “I’m so sorry, lovely. I’m not done. Do I have your permission to keep going?”

His words floated around your hazy mind. You smiled at him affectionately with your eyes half-lidded and reached up to stroke his cheek. Exhaustion was overcoming you. “Yes. Take whatever you need until you feel better.”

“Even if you fall asleep?” Barbatos asked with some of the timidness from earlier.

“Even if I pass out. Even if it hurts. Even if I cry. Be as greedy as you have to be with me.” Maybe you were cum-drunk. Or maybe you just wanted to make Barbatos feel better. Either way, you resigned yourself to being used for the next few minutes or hours or days.

“Thank you, my love.” Barbatos kissed your cheek sweetly.

You watched the dim glow of his eyes dreamily, focusing on them until the rest of the room began to disappear. With your body spent, all you could do was whimper as you felt Barbatos enter you again. Even the pleasure began to dull as you let yourself slip further into the haze. His deep growls and panting were the last thing you heard as your mind fell silent.

Your last thought before a sweet dream swept over you was that, without a doubt, Barbatos would be a mix of grateful and apologetic when you woke up again.

In the morning, Barbatos would ensure you were hydrated, well-fed, and tended to. He would be an affectionate, doting butler for you. And then, someone would have a hefty price to pay.

A/N: I did not think this was going to end up so long, but please enjoy. I am worried I got a little too carried away here. . . but this was still the less deranged Barbatos monster kink idea. Anyway, requests are open and will be until the end of Nov. 5th. And I hope this one does something for some of you.

#moss poll fic #barbatos #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos smut #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #obey me smut #this one is for the monsterfuckers #especially the ones who love the you're a monster but I trust you dynamic #also not me using a storm motif because the pattern on his tail is lightning-like

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xamag-draws · 10 days

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BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

#my art #xam rambles #the black brick road of oz #long post #ohsees tag

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tabbedtabby · 7 days

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good luck, babe! | chapter 1

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: if you couldn’t tell from the title, this fic is inspired by “good luck, babe!” by chappell roan. if you’ve never heard it, definitely check it out. updates will most likely be weekly. i don’t know how some of y’all have the time to update every day lol. as a general warning for the whole fic, it will contain homophobia, derogatory language, substance abuse, and unhealthy relationships. other than that thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this first chapter!!

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Entering your third year of high school, you assumed you knew everything there was to know about North Shore.

Well, at least, how to steer clear of infamy. More specifically, Regina George and her shadows that followed her around like a pair of lost dogs. You knew the trouble and attention they brought with them, a constant trail of destruction that was almost as potent as the stench of their perfume. The secret to avoiding it was as simple as straying from the limelight. You kept to your group, stayed quiet, kept your head down. Didn’t do anything wild enough to trigger Regina’s predatory instincts. You couldn’t say you were afraid of her and her group, but honestly, harassment is the last thing you need as North Shore’s token plug. It would be plain stupid to garner more attention to yourself than necessary.

But even with all of that in mind, here you are, sitting in the principal’s office with enough anger in your chest to probably strangle the man sitting in front of you. Because you didn’t even fucking do what you’re being penalized for. But guess who told Mr. Duvall that you were taking pictures of girls changing in gym? Regina George. She could make up whatever she wanted and even the authority figures at this school would treat it like it was the holy grail. You stare at him with venom in your eyes as he explains to you that you will have to be suspended. For something you didn’t even do.

Regina was in your gym class. You had heard around that she was spreading rumors about you being a lesbian, but that’s not new information to literally anyone, so you didn’t especially care. Then people started giving you disgusted looks in the hallways, calling you some really nasty names, and even some of your close female friends started to avoid you. You didn’t know why until about 10 minutes ago. Apparently, you were the last person to know about your supposed photo collection.

When Mr. Duvall finally lets you leave, you feel the rage boil up inside of you before you can stop it. You’re going to get in so much trouble at home, and for what? Because the world’s most spoiled brat decided your reputation was the one to ruin this week? Does she even realize how her rumors can affect people? Obviously not, because she does it all the fucking time.

You’re way late to lunch, but the moment you step into that cafeteria, it’s like a wild dog being released into the ring. You skip on the lunch line and head straight towards the table where you see Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners talking with wide eyes to the blonde head of hair with her back to you. Regina. You lock on like a target, not glancing at anything else surrounding you. Your hands are bunched into fists at your sides as the anger rises up in your throat like bile. How dare she? How dare she completely make up this bullshit about you, get you suspended because of it? And why hasn’t anyone actually done something about it?

You see her turn around. Two ice blue eyes look up at you. Disgusted, maybe even a little confused as she sees you approaching her table. Because no one ever dares enter her territory. She thinks she’s above that. She doesn’t look at you more than a second, though, before your hands are ripping her off the bench by the collar of her shirt.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you practically snarl, your arms already dragging her towards the wall as you slam her against it. Your hands still grip the collar of her shirt, your anger almost palpable. You hear what you think to be Gretchen scream. The cafeteria descends into chaos around you. You don’t care. The only thing you’re concerned about is what’s in front of you right now.

Regina doesn’t even look slightly bothered. In fact, she cocks an eyebrow. Her eyes seem to glow with that malice now. Your hands grip the fabric of her shirt even tighter.

“Oh, no, did I hit a nerve?” she laughs, her eyes looking you over with a newfound disgust. Like you’re simply a piece of trash a wild animal found out it could not digest and spit back up. Like you’re beneath her. You hate the woman, but it’s almost impressive how controlled she is in moments like these.

“You’re just proving me right, you know. Just admit you’re the weird freak that everyone knows you are. I can’t stand a closet lesbo.” she sneers, pushing her face close enough to yours that you can feel her breath on your face.

Something in you snaps when she says those words. Because it’s not even true, and you’re the only person who seems to believe that. The anger’s hot in your chest. Its flames seem to carry your arms as you ball your right hand into a fist.

And you punch the Queen Bee of North Shore directly in the eye.

Your suspension was extended. Obviously.

You spend the next 2 weeks cleaning the house until your fingers peel and keeping up with your school work on your computer. People are talking about your fight with Regina all over Instagram and Regina’s acting like a total victim about the whole thing. People sending her their condolences and all that bullshit. As if she was dying and didn’t only get one punch to the face before someone pulled you off of her. It was your health teacher from last year; he seemed a little too eager to grab you and pull you off of Regina.

When you return to school, it seems people still believe those rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing rooms, because your peers are giving you the same sort of looks as before. They clear away from you when you walk past, but not in the worshipful kind of way they do for Regina. More like they’re disgusted to be around you.

Some people are impressed you stood up to her, though. You’re the first of your time. Janis ‘Imi’ike from your AP Lit class gives you a high five in the morning and you give her a big grin in return.

You see Regina in your gym class after lunch, and she looks as good as new. You’re a little disappointed. You kind of wanted to see her with that bright purple bruise on her eye that you’d seen all over Instagram. But there she was, looking like the perfectly crafted Barbie doll that she always seemed to be. Not even a stand of flawless blonde hair out of place. It made you mad. It’s like you did it all for nothing.

To your surprise, though, Regina ignores you. She doesn’t whisper to her minions while giving you dirty looks from across the room, doesn’t send them after you with a raise of her finger. It’s like you’re invisible to her. Honestly, you prefer it that way. You’re tired enough of this whole situation as it is. It’s a godsend she’s not making it worse today.

Coach Carr takes you all outside since it’s one of the last warm days until fall. You stick your Airpods in and walk the track, still keeping an eye on Regina. It’s not like her to not torment someone who got suspended because of one of her rumors. You don’t trust it at all, but she seems content with pretending you don’t exist. Since Karen and Gretchen aren’t in this class with her, Regina resorts to talking to the girls who aren’t quite Plastic, but are still high enough on the social pyramid for Regina to tolerate. You roll your eyes as they mindlessly follow her lead like a pack of lion cubs.

After a couple of minutes, you get bored and sneak off to the woods surrounding the track. Your coach wasn’t the most attentive person in the world, so it was pretty easy. You needed to smoke or you were going to go insane. You take an Airpod out and grab the cart out of your bra. Have to keep it non-suspicious.

You only plan on taking a few hits since it’s so concentrated and you still have another class after this. You come out here so much that you don’t even think about it. Until you hear a voice behind you.

“Are you smoking weed?”

Your neck nearly snaps when you whip your head around. Your heart sinks back down to your chest from your throat when you see Regina George standing there instead of Coach Carr.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” you immediately respond, your voice wavering a bit as you hadn’t even considered someone had seen you slip out. The weed had just started to hit and you could feel it amplify the fear in your chest, even though Regina wasn’t technically immediate danger. Although, your heart begins to race faster as you realize she will definitely try to get you in deeper shit because of this.

Regina begins to open her mouth before you immediately cut her off. “Before you go and tell everyone on this side of the country, everyone already knows. It’s not gonna do anything to ruin my reputation.” Your voice shakes similarly to your legs out of the pure shock of her finding you. You hate feeling cornered, but after your little tussle with her, you know how badly Regina must want to destroy you. Her eyes stare at you unflinchingly, unaffected by what you said. She looks smug enough to make you nervous. You don’t know if it’s because of the weed or your pounding chest, but it seems like minutes pass before Regina says anything else.

“What about Mr. Duvall? Does he know?” Fuck. You’re not getting out of this, are you? Your mouth begins to dry, the spit thick on your tongue as you think of a response. Your dad was already mad enough at you. You didn’t need this.

“No. But I can’t imagine it’ll go well for you if you tell him. I sell to half the school, including Karen. Everyone will be pissed if I get caught.” you respond, already feeling defeated, but you keep your tone searing. You’re taller than her; hopefully it makes you intimidating enough for her to have mercy. Regina doesn’t respond right away. All she does is raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk on one side of her mouth as you watch her consider her options. She’s flawlessly gorgeous in a way that’s enviable. But you kind of need her to not take away your source of income.

“Look, I smoke behind the baseball field every day after school. I’ll give you some for free if you just keep your damn mouth shut for once.” Your voice is almost pleading now. You wish she wasn’t so dead-set on ruining your life.

Time only gets slower as Regina’s smirk begins to widen. It’s a win-win situation for her, and she knows it.

“Fine. But you better not try to kiss me or anything.” she says slowly, spitting out the words like they’re poisonous.

You feel the relief pool in your stomach as soon as you hear those words. It must be obvious by the look on your face, because Regina laughs at you. She has that angry, disgusted sort of look in her eyes that you can’t quite figure out the reason for. It’s a shame because she’s so beautiful. Your body takes multiple seconds to keep up with your thoughts until a question crosses your mind.

“Did you follow me?” you ask, your voice a little too loud as you see her head turn back around.

“Obviously. I knew you weren’t sneaking off to do anything good,” she shoots back, the repugnant expression back on her face. She curls her lip at you before stalking off back to the track field, blonde hair flowing behind her.

How the hell did she even see you leave? Maybe you weren’t the only one paying attention to what the other was doing after your fight with her. But, why? Did she seriously think you were going to try and swing at her on your first day back?

You guess you’ll find out at 3:00P.M. behind the baseball field.

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george 2024 #mean girls x reader #fem reader

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bookishdreamer28 · 5 months

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Giving Gojo the silent treatment

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It all started because of a fight you had the previous day. He's been working so hard lately, that the only thing you wanted was to make his day, somehow better by making dinner, having some good time for yourselves, drink wine and many more.

___________________________________________

It was 9 p.m and you had already set the table, with Satoru's and yours fave dinner. You were all dolled up and waiting for your fave boy's arrival.

When you heard the lock on the door, you instantly stood up from the couch and when to greet him. You could already see his small frown on his face and you wanted nothing more but to make it go away right away.

"Satoru my love, welcome ba-"

"Yeah yeah nice to see you too." He stepped back from your hug and walked away. Just walked away.

You knew how hard it was to be a sorcerer, but it wasn't necessary for him to act his way. You tried to brush it off, but the sting was still there. It hurts that he avoided hugging you.

You followed him to your room and saw him getting in the bathroom, ready to take a shower. You sighed and decided to sit on the bed and wait for him.

Once he got out, he didn't say anything to you and went straight to your closet.

He could feel your eyes on him but he still didn't say a thing.

"Uhm, I have dinner ready love. I made our fave! Since I know how much you liked it last time, I thought about making it again and after dinner I have planned an amazing night for ourselves, since I know you've been working s-"

"I don't feel like eating right now. I thing I'm going to bed early after I drink some tea." He said in a monotone voice.

"Really? Oh...but baby I just wanted to make you feel better. I know things are not ok out there but in here I want you feel safe and good-"

"CAN'T YOU JUST STOP TALKING ALREADY? I told you. I'm not in the mood for ANYHTING but sleep." He turned to you looking pissed. You absolutely understood him but the way he spoke to you is definitely Not ok.

"Well you don't need to be such a jerk you know. I just wanted to take care of you and this is how you talk to me?"

"Whem you're being pushy, what do you expect me to do? I had the toughest week ever, I need sleep and I need you to leave me alone." He said raising his voice a bit.

You tried so hard not let tears fall down. It broke your heart knowing that you were basically a burden to him now.

You felt your hands trembling and took a deep breath. Once you closed your eyes, you felt them. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. But you didn't really care.

Satoru didn't notice your tears since he truned away from you, to make tea.

After you calmed a little, you changed to your pajamas and went to collect the food from the table.

You saw satoru watching tv while drinking his tea, and you felt anger rising up again. The fact that he was so chill with all this made you so mad. You had many tough weeks too. You went through so much bullshit too. And you had bad days too. But you never thought, not even once, take it out on Satoru.

You cleaned the table and put the food in the fridge for tomorrow. You felt so exhausted. You went in yours and Satoru's bed, to take a blanket and a pillow, since you pretty sure he doesn't want to sleep with you.

Satoru was washing his mug and he didn't saw you when you went to take your place on the couch. With not more words exchanged, Satoru left the kitchen and went straight to your bedroom.

And without noticing, you started sobbing.

....

The next morning, Satoru woke up and when he saw you weren't next to him, he panicked. He got up alarmed and went in the living room.

"Y/N!? Sweetheart where are y-" when his eyes fell on your curled up figure, he released a breath he felt he was holding for too long. He thought about yesterday and immigrated felt like he wanted the ground to open a wide hole, and swallow him in.

He approached silently and crouched down next to you. He raised his hand and took a small strand of your hair and placed it behind you ear. He kissed yoyr forehead and stayed there for a while. He felt your body stirr and lookedat you carefully. You slowly opened your eyes and when you saw Satoru hovering above you, you frowned.

"Y/N baby, why did you sleep here? Didn't you get cold? Are you feeling cold now? Cause I'm going to make you tea and some breakfast for you to eat baby." He whispered.

You sat a little, rubbing your eyes. And then stood up and left, leaving Satoru there. He watched you walking away till you disappeared in the bathroom. He rubbed hos forehead thinking how much he messed up and cursed himself.

.....

The next morning, Satoru was in the kitchen making breakfast. He was humming your fave song, while making eggs and puring some juice on your glass. The smell woke you up and when you reached the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks. You wanted to smile at the image, but you couldn't forget what happened yesterday. You opened the fridge and grabbed one bottle of water and went back to the couch, grabbing your book with you. He felt his hwart breaking because the onky thing he wanted was to feel your warm body pressed against his. He wanted your kisses. He wanted you, moee than anything else. He looked at you and turned his back to you again, not wanting you to see his tears.

....

"Hey baby, how about we watch this series you talked to me about last week? You said season 2 is out, so I thought about watching it together. I brought snacks, sodas, i have your fave blanket aaand hugs!" He said cheerfully. But when he saw you not paying him any attention, his smiled dropped. You were laughing at a video you were watching. Oh how much he missed this sound. And how much he wished was the one making you laugh like this.

.....

That night, you returned home from a coffee with Shoko and decided to take a shower. After that, you were ready to to watch your fave series on the couch and then go to sleep. Satoru saw you there, and he started walking to you. When you heard his footsteps, you rolled your eyes and pretended to be asleep.

He sat on the floor next to the couch and stared at you with those blue eyes.

"Baby, I-" he felt like his throat was close. He couldn't speak. His voice was hoarse from crying.

You turned your head away, because you couldn't take it seeing him that way. But the fact that he hurted you with his choice of words, was something that made you very upset.

"I'm so so so freaking sorry my love. I messed up so badly and I know saying sorry won't change the fact that I hurt you. But I want you to know that you mean the whole world to me." He voice was shaking his fingers reached to touch you. He needed to feel you so badly.

You looked at him and listened carefully to what he had to say.

Once he saw your eyes beautiful eyes looking at him, he felt so relieved. He missed you so much.

"Please baby, please forgive me. I know I'm in no place to even ask that after the way I spoke to you, but I can't take this anymore. Being this close to uu and not having you pains me. It pains me so damn much." He felt his eyes sting with tears.

You cold expression turned to a sad one, and you felt like hugging him so tight, but you were still unsure of what to do now.

Satoru's head dropped to the floor and he rubbed his eyes trying to not let anymore tears roll down.

"Oh Toru." You whispered. At the sound, Saotru looked at you, woth widen eyes.

"Baby, I- it pained me so much seeing you so upset and cold. Remember when we promised that we will be each other's anchors, and that we'll talk about anything that is bothering us? Well, you didn't do it. You just let your anger speak for you. And it was messed up."

You rested your right hand, on his softly.

"But I love you too. And this will never change. But please, mext time just talk to me ok? Of course there will be days that something will upset us and ruin our moods, but at the end day, all that matters is that we're each other's home." You rubbed his cheek softly, wiping his tears away.

"Can I please hug you?" He asked with a low voice.

"Of course baby." You moved first and he caught you in his arms fast. He felt alive again. And so did you. That was all you needed.

"Now, how about we watch my series and eat something to cheer us up hm?" You asked smiling, and leaned to leave a soft kiss on his lips. When you tried to pull away, he grabbed your face and kissed you more. And harder.

Well now you know that you won't be watching anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Here's a new Gojo post caused missed writing something with him!!

Thank you for reading ♡♡

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simphornies · 3 months

Note

Can I please request Vox x Female Angel Reader (PS: Vox doesn't know what was happening to him ever since he met Reader just like in quote he ask himself "Why is my heart racing whenever I'm with her? Why am I short circuiting? And etc)

A/N: Wondrous idea! This one's been brewing for a bit though it is shorter than my other ones. There are two requests for this so for the other person that requested it, worry not! It is on the way!

Word count: 2k (2,041)

Fallen for you [Vox x Angel!F!Reader]

You made the choice to sneak into hell during the extermination. Amongst the chaos you carefully ran around rubble to rubble. Your angelic powers allowed you to heal angels, mortals and sinners alike to which you used to salvage those who could be salvaged.

You kept yourself hidden from the exorcists so they could't drag you back up to heaven on their way back from the massacre. But you didn't could't keep yourself hidden from the VoxTek cameras that roamed and covered the area.

You ran into the nearest building that had three V's plastered on the top, making sure your wings were tucked away. You look around, everyone in the building seemed to be in a trance, their eyes filled with spirals. It creeped you out a bit. You kept your head down as you roamed.

"Well, who do we have here?" A voice came from behind you, the suddenness causing you to jump. You freeze in your tracks, it certainly wasn't an exorcist's voice so you slowly turn around. Your head stayed lowered, "Pardon the intrusion, I'll leave now." You respond.

You tried to walk around the tall figure in front of you but he quickly blocked your way, neon blue shoes stepping closer. You look up slowly, a little scared. You were met with a grinning demon, with a television for a head? You couldn't help but cock your head in confusion.

He chuckles in response, "You must be new here." His hand reached out to you, you shook it, "Vox! Nice to meet you, stranger. And who might you be?"

"It's Y/N." You awkwardly, and nervously, smile at him, "It's a pleasure to meet you but I'll be taking my leave now! Hah..." You pull your hand away but he grabs it back, not allowing you to take a step.

"You're definitely not from around here, sweets." His eye spirals at you. You feel yourself fall into a bit of a trance, "Let's continue our conversation in my office." You weren't able to stop him from dragging you to his office.

When you came to, you found yourself sat on a chair. In front of you is Vox, watching you intently. "I haven't caused anything out of the ordinary. I'd hate to waste your time, this is not necessary-" You try to explain.

A screen comes down next to him before he speaks. "You're not from here." He speaks in a low, distorted voice. The screen shows clips of you flying down amongst the exorcists, wings in plain view, followed by you sneaking around. "You're an angel and you're in my building." His voice sounded threatening. "What business do you have here and why are you helping hell."

"I..." You sigh, "Look. I snuck out of heaven. I don't want to be there anymore and with the exorcists leaving, they most likely have noticed I left for hell. I'm bound to be a fallen any day now and I honestly could care any less. Look, I'll...I'll work for you!" You pleaded, "Please just don't let anybody else know."

It's been a while since you struck a non-binding deal with Vox. You two got close after a couple months of him being on guard around you. Well, he's still on guard around you no matter how much you've tried to get his walls down. He kept his end of the stick, reasons unknown to you and told nobody about your secret. You chose to share it with the other Vees though and they were more than glad to have such power on their side.

Vox watched as you conversed with the two, his mind racing as quick as his heart. He didn't understand why in the fuck, his words, he couldn't compose himself properly around you. Your smile alone could make hims heart pound out of his chest. For a while he was convinced it was some angelic power but it was quickly debunked by you. You always smiled and your smile warmed his cold heart, constantly making him short circuit.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize you were in front of him, repeating his name over and over. He genuinely thought it was all in his head since his mind was constantly filled with the thought of you. You repeated his name over and over until he snapped out of it.

"Vox? Vooooox?" You repeated until he finally set his gaze on you, "Vox, are you okay? What's going on? You were kinda wonky there for a second. There's sparks coming out of you."

"Y/N! I'm fine. Appreciate the concern," He lied, "I'm just...thinking." He turned away from you so you couldn't see his screen glitching. He pretended like he was just looking out the window.

"Anyways," You looked out the window, admiring whatever he's looking at, the sharks you assume. "Vel and Val said we're going out tonight. And they told me to tell you to dress up, or something."

"Thank you. I'll get ready soon."

"Hey." You place a hand on his shoulder. He finally looks at you, staring into your eyes that hypnotized him better than he could hypnotize anybody. "If you need anything, I'll help you. You know that, right?" Your words received a small smile from him.

"Thank you, angel." Angel became a nickname of sorts from him to you. You smile sweetly at him and head out to get ready.

Vox was an absolute mess. He was the last to get ready for once and not Valentino. He wanted to look his best and though this usually wasn't a problem for him, it was now. For some reason he couldn't understand he needed to look his best around you.

Velvette bursts into his room while he's frantically trying to pick a bowtie. "What the fuck is taking so long with you? I expect this shit from Valentino but not from you."

He groans, "I can't pick a damn outfit!" He glitched.

"Why in the dead fuck do you care?" She scoffed, putting his outfit together for him with a swipe of her hand.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I don't know. I feel like Y/N has some weird angelic power on me. I just can't stop thinking about her ever since I met her. She always short-circuits me, making my fans go on overdrive and-"

"Woah woah woah. Slow the fuck down." Velvette laughed, "You are such a fucking dumbass! You're so stupid." She was now on the floor, cackling at him.

"What?!"

"You like her. You're so dense. Oh my fuck." She gets up, wiping tears off her eyes, "I'm so gonna tell her."

"NO." He yelled, voice distorted and eye spiraling. "I'll do it. Later."

"Bet you won't, pussy."

You arrived a little bit after the Vees. You had something, or rather someone, to take care of. Ever since you were officially fallen from heaven, you've gotten quite accustomed to death and the whole "fighting for your life" thing.

Vox was impatiently awaiting your arrival, constantly fidgeting in his seat which earned him a kick or two from both Valentino and Velvette. Velvette caught Valentino up on Vox's situation and he wasn't hearing the end of it for the whole car ride.

He heard heels clicking and he turned a bit too quickly at your arrival. "Y/N! You've fi-finally arrived!" He glitched a bit again at the sight of you. He was never a fan of angels and frankly never understood the whole rave about their beauty but the moment he saw you his mind changed completely.

There you stood in front of him in a blouse and a skirt that hugged your curves right. Eyes were a staple detail in all of your outfits and it showed. You had rings on, few of which had red eyes. Your necklace, a gift from Vox, was his signature spiral eye. It doubled as an alarm for you in case you were in danger, not like you needed it considering you still had angelic powers, much stronger than any overlord but less than Lucifer and his daughter.

He had his arms out for a hug for you, a rare gesture from him. You gave him a tight hug and you swear you felt his circuits warm up again. He was smiling brightly at you, honored to have you in his presence and his life.

"Sorry. Had to deal with a couple sinners. You know someone tried fucking one of Val's employees on the street? For free?" Val almost flipped the table, "It's okay! It's okay. He's locked up in your room."

Val chuckles evilly, "Thank you."

Vox pulls your chair out for you before sitting himself down. The four of you talk business and you took notice of how much Vox kept staring at you. You got a little flustered, constantly fiddling with your hair.

You and Vox kept notice of each other but both of you remained unaware of the looks you received from Valentino and Velvette. They just needed some popcorn and they'd be set. Velvette made up an excuse to walk out to give you both space, dragging Valentino behind her. She placed a hand on Vox's shoulder and whispered, "$500 if you don't do this shit, tonight." She plastered a smile before leaving, "Kisses, darlings! So sorry we couldn't stay."

It was now just the two of you. Vox's heart was pounding loudly and his face was slowly getting brighter. You were pitching him an idea for the next release in VoxTek but you stopped when you saw his screen quite literally not there anymore.

"Vox? You've been glitching a lot lately and I'm getting worried..." You scoot your chair closer to him, "Do you need any parts? I can put them in for you or reboot your system." You put you hand on the side of his screen which jolted him back.

"No! I'm fine. I just," He clears his throat, still glitching out with sparks flying everywhere. "I have a lot on my mind."

"You can talk to me, I'm here to listen." You hold his hand for comfort but this just further heated him up. You feel him clutch your hands for once.

He takes a deep breath in before looking at you, "I have a confession to make. To you." You looked at him worried that he's having business problems, or something. "I like you." Vox felt like a weight has been lifted off of him but now he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear that you'd reject him.

"Oh, Vox..." You spoke softly, holding his hand closer to you, "I like you too. Is that why you've been glitching lately?" You had an empathetic look on your face.

"You do?" He was in shock. His demeanor was new to you, he was vulnerable.

"Vox. You took me in and kept my secret with basically nothing in return and I am eternally grateful." You smile sweetly at him, "Vox. You didn't need to keep such a thing from me for so long to the point where you glitch and short-circuit. I was so worried."

He let out a sigh of relief, "Oh thank fuck." He felt as if he hadn't been breathing this whole time. He gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will give you everything you ever ask for. I will protect you no matter what. You're such a...a breath of fresh air. I thought you had some angelic power hold on me."

You laugh at his statement, "Angelic power hold, Vox? Really?" You were giggling uncontrollably at this point.

"Shut up!" He said in embarrassment, "Anyways! Y/N, will you be with me for the rest of eternity?"

You gave him a kiss on his screen, "Gladly, Vox."

While you two were cuddling it up in the restaurant while talking about business endeavors, Vox got a text on his phone from Velvette. She had sent him $500 with a text saying 'Treat her right or I'm putting her in my show.' after it.

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Hi 💜

I sent a request a while ago about Spencer x reader academic stress. It was absolutely perfect. Thank you so much 💗

I just read the james one about reader skipping meals (it was so sweet and lovely) and I tend to do that myself sometimes not eating anything between dinner one day to the next simply because i got busy with classes and forgot until i get a migrane or get a bit dizzy. So, I was wondering if you could do a similar prompt with Spencer and reader being busy all day with work or classes or whatever and simply forgetting to eat until a migrane / dizzy spell occurs and he finds out.

I just feel like he'd be so kind and give facts about importance of not skipping meals for brain function, while coddling, feeding and spoiling reader, maybe cooking or handfeeding too I don't know whatever works for you. Thank you 💕🌸

Sorry if i wrote too much😅

Thank you for requesting lovely (and no sorries necessary) <3

cw: mention of skipping meals, dizziness/nausea

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Spencer finds you sitting down in the stairwell. You recognize him by the sound of his footsteps, lighter than Morgan’s but less clicky than JJ’s heels. Neither of you typically use the stairs, so you can only imagine that he’s come looking for you.

“Hi,” you say to let him know you’re alive inside the tiny cavern you’ve made of your own body. You’re bent over to rest your forehead on your knees, one hand on each of your temples as you breathe slowly to steady yourself. Overall, it’s a pretty dramatic pose. And you’re definitely getting the butt of your slacks dirty on these stairs.

Spencer’s footsteps pass you, and for half a second you think he really is just using the stairs. He stops a few steps below you. You can feel him scrutinizing the top of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks in that soft, careful voice of his. “You just disappeared.”

You had sort of fled the scene. You still feel too new to the team to feel fully comfortable, and with Strauss here for the case everyone is on their best behavior, so when you’d all been walking in the hallway and a dizzy spell had nearly collapsed you into the wall, you’d dropped back from the group and stepped into the first door you saw rather than risk bringing attention to yourself.

“I’m fine,” you say through an exhale, lifting your head from your knees. “Sorry, I just got dizzy and didn’t want to cause problems.”

Spencer’s eyebrows bunch. He lowers into a crouch in front of you, looking up into your face. “Dizzy—do you know what caused it? Is this something that happens often?” He bypasses your rudeness in abandoning the team immediately, and the questions come almost too fast for your addled brain to keep up with. You think you need protein. Or carbs, or something.

“Yeah—I mean no, it doesn’t happen all the time,” you say. “I just forgot to eat lunch.”

The notch between Spencer’s brows digs in and he brushes a piece of hair behind his ear. “What happened?”

You shrug, embarrassed. “I packed a lunch so I wouldn’t have to take a break, and then I just forgot about it. I’ve been…” you glance up at Spencer, but his eyes are too safe and open to even contemplate deceiving. “I haven’t been keeping up with my work like I should. I didn’t want to take a break, and I didn’t even remember my lunch until now.”

“It’s on your desk?” he asks.

You blink. “My work?”

“Your lunch.”

“Yeah,” you say. It comes out curved like a question.

“Okay.” He straightens, lithe limbs extending until you’re craning your neck to look up at him. “Wait here.”

You turn, starting to protest, but Spencer sets a pacifying hand on your head as he passes. Objections acknowledged, but ignored. Following him is out of the question; just pivoting sitting down had sent your head swimming again.

The door bangs shut after him, and a minute later he returns with your sad paper bag and a bottle of gatorade.

“I saw you have water in here,” he says, sitting back in his place a couple steps below you, “but I thought electrolytes might help more.” He twists the cap off and hands it to you. Rather than passing you your lunch bag, he sets it in his own lap to dig through the contents. “You want your sandwich first?”

You lower the gatorade from your mouth, wiping self-consciously under your lower lip. “Yes, please,” you say, and Spencer hands it to you. You set the gatorade down beside you. “Do we keep these in the fridge?”

“Morgan does.” You must look as horrified as you feel, because Spencer goes on quickly, “He won’t even notice it’s gone. He likes the blue ones the least anyway.”

You nod hesitantly, raising the bottle to your lips for another sip. “I’ll get him a replacement in case.”

His smile is understanding, and you’re reminded that before you, Spencer was the youngest on the team. You imagine he knows how it feels to be constantly wary of getting on someone’s bad side.

“You really don’t have to,” he says anyway.

You take a bite of your sandwich, shrugging. “Thanks a lot for this, but you don’t have to stay here with me. Won’t we get in some kind of trouble?”

“I think we’ll be okay here for a little while,” Spencer says. “Actually, I don’t think most people on the team even know where this door goes. None of us ever use the stairs. And they might not have noticed we’re gone yet.”

You give him a deadpan look. “They’ll notice you’re gone.”

He shrugs. It’s not a denial. “I don’t mind waiting with you.”

It means more to you than it reasonably should. “Thanks,” you say quietly, and take another bite of your sandwich as an excuse to look away.

You haven’t even polished it off yet, and Spencer’s already dipping into your bag for more. He takes the cap of a container of grapes.

“Here, have some of these.” He holds it out, and you shove the last bite of sandwich into your mouth to take it from him. “You probably need some vitamin C,” he muses. His eyes fall to the nearly full bottle at your side. “Don’t forget to drink.”

You almost grin, covering your full mouth with a hand as you speak. “I can’t actually do all this at once.”

“Oh, sorry.” He looks abashed. “Take your time.” You do, swallowing before lowering your hand to give him a small smile. It’s returned. “You know, skipping meals is actually pretty dangerous.”

Your smile fades, but Spencer holds your gaze. His eyes are gentle.

“I know you just forgot, but low blood sugar impedes brain function. We need to be able to think clearly and quickly to do our job. So, being nourished is really important to that.”

You nod, chastised. He taps the container of grapes, and you pop one into your mouth.

“Are you going to tell Hotch?” you ask him quietly.

Spencer blinks, brows twitching together. “No,” he says. “It’s not really that big of a deal, and anyway I think Hotch would just tell you the same thing. I just think it’s important for you to know.”

You rub your lips together, bobbing your head again. “Okay, thanks.” You look at him seriously, dropping your voice into a terrible imitation of Hotch’s deep timbre. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Spencer grins, surprised by you, and you mirror him. You’re a bit surprised by yourself too.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks.

You nod automatically, not taking even the barest inventory yourself to see whether that might be true, but Spencer can obviously tell. His brown eyes search yours, scientifically probing, like they might tell him something you won’t. You’re well aware that Spencer’s a certifiable genius, and yet you’re still learning not to underestimate him.

“We can probably go back now,” you tell him.

His stare holds yours a minute longer. You feel pleasurably crushed under the weight of his attention.

After a few seconds, Spencer’s expression settles into decision. “Let’s sit here for a minute,” he says. “You should finish your food. You’re owed a lunch hour anyway, no one’s ever stipulated when or where you have to take it.”

You crack a smile. “What about you?”

“I’m staying with you,” he says matter-of-factly. Like it’s the only option even worth considering. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself, and it’s probably best if I take the gatorade bottle back up with us. If Morgan sees, it’ll be easier for me to take credit if I’m holding it.”

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reminiscingtonight · 6 months

Text

Dinner

Lia Wälti x Williamson!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

[WOSO Masterlist]

It all began with a dinner.

Well, a dinner and a movie, but a dinner nonetheless.

Practice had been light today. With no games coming at the end of the week, Leah had invited her Swiss counterpart over for a little movie night. The two used to have them on the regular, but it’s been a busy past couple of weeks, neither having had the time to indulge in their weekly hangouts.

Until today.

Arriving at the familiar address, Lia lets herself through the door. Leah had stayed behind to talk to Jonas for a little bit, giving Lia the all-clear to enter her home with the spare key the Swiss possessed. After stopping by their favorite dinner place, Lia did exactly that, heading straight for the kitchen after her arrival.

It isn’t until she actually reaches for the cupboard left of the sink that she realizes something is off. Namely, since the last time Lia’s been over, Leah’s apparently reorganized all of her plates, bowls, and cutlery.

Swearing under her breath, Lia starts opening cupboards and drawers at random. Where the plates are supposed to be now sit wine glasses. Where the forks are supposed to be now sit paper, pens, and rulers.

Groaning, Lia comes to the realization that this is going to take longer than she originally thought. Leah’s about to get the talking-to of her life when she gets back.

So caught up in looking for the necessary plates and utensils for their dinner Lia doesn’t hear the sound of the shower stopping. Nor does she hear the click of the bathroom door opening. Nor the footsteps padding her way.

What she does hear is an alarmed shriek.

Spinning around, Lia’s eyes widen at the sight of another woman, clad only in a towel as water drips from the ends of her hair.

She finds her eyes following a particular bead of water that drips down your neck, disappearing underneath--

“Who the hell are you?!” comes a not so confidently yelled accusation, startling Lia out of her staring. Blushing, the Swiss puts her hands up to show she’s not a threat, gently backing into the counter as you stand your ground.

Of course, leave it up to Leah to not warn her about her girlfriend staying over. Or for Leah to not warn her girlfriend that Lia was coming over.

Though Lia can definitely see why the English captain would choose to date someone as beautiful as--

Lia stops herself before she goes down the trail of thinking about how hot Leah’s girlfriend is.

“Sorry, Leah didn’t tell me someone else was going to be here,” comes the apology, the Gunner quick to make up for her previous silence. Your shoulders still haven’t untensed, hand clutching onto your towel for dear life.

“Leah had to talk to Jonas about something but wanted me to grab food and head over.” Lia slowly gestures to the takeaway sitting on the counter next to her. She sees your eyes hesitantly glance at it before locking back onto her. “We, uh, we were planning on having a movie night.”

A period of silence follows as she sees you working through her explanation. If anything, you seem to be even more tense, from the cold or something else, Lia couldn’t be too sure.

Before either of you have a chance to say anything more, there’s a noisy jingle at the front door. Lia only has a few seconds to prepare herself before the door flies open, revealing the woman in question.

Leah blinks, eyes darting between you and her teammate as she holds her bag over her shoulder.

You look unamused, shivering a bit at your state of undress while Lia’s quick to open her mouth in defense of herself.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

Leah frowns, gaze focusing on you. “Fancying a post-shower, still towel-clad conversation, eh?”

You roll your eyes. “A warning that you were having company over would’ve been nice.”

Lia’s confused when the blonde grins, coming over to smack a loud kiss against your cheek and push at you with her hands. “Off to get dressed, you. America has really taken away your manners.”

You rub at your cheek in disgust before you shove back ferociously, nearly toppling Leah over. The blonde stumbles, using Lia as a stand to steady herself.

There’s no time to retaliate as you stalk away. Only the lingering smell of your shampoo and body wash tells her that you were ever there.

It’s quiet then as Leah helps the Swiss find her plates and take out the food. The two of them work in silence, carefully dishing out their meal before making their way to the living room.

The TV clicks on with a quiet hum, illuminating the room in a soft hue.

“Er, she seems… nice.” Lia supplements, trying to ease into the weird atmosphere. If Leah wasn’t going to introduce her girlfriend to Lia then Lia would just have to get the stone rolling herself.

To her surprise, Leah simply rolls her eyes, a small smile still present on her face. “(Y/N)’s a menace.”

There’s a muffled shout from somewhere deep in the apartment and Leah flinches when she realizes you can still hear her.

“I heard that, you arse! You’re the fucking menace.”

When you appear again, Lia’s lost in your soft look, a faded blue sweatshirt covering your previously towel covered body, that she almost misses what you say next.

“The least you could’ve done was have Wally bring me some food as well.”

When she realizes what you’ve just said, Lia can’t stop her mouth from dropping open in shock.

“So you do know who I am?” she questions, instantly clocking how Leah hasn’t spoken her name out loud since she’s been back. Lia’s referring to the first words you uttered to her tonight, but she still receives the look of disbelief from you.

“Of course I know who you are. I’ve watched all of Leah’s games through the years. Only fitting I pick up everyone’s names from that.”

“But you--” Lia breaks off, stopping herself from talking the two of you into circles. Some battles are better lost than fought. Though she doesn’t miss the way you said ‘through the years.’ Just how long have the two of you been dating? Leah hasn’t mentioned dating anyone since her split with Jordan, but from the way you’re talking it seems as if you’ve been together for years.

“I’m just messing with you,” you grin, setting butterflies off in her stomach. “I’ve really only memorized the name of Lee’s prettiest friends.”

Lia’s mouth drops open in shock, eyes quickly darting to gauge Leah’s reaction. As hot as you are, flirting with Leah’s girlfriend right in front of Leah felt like a sure way to get herself killed.

Only… Leah doesn’t even seem phased by the conversation happening in front of her.

Without taking her eyes away from the screen in front of her, Leah throws out a: “Lotte was not joking when she said you flirted with everything that moved, huh.”

“Hey! Take that back!” you gasp, jumping on top of Leah. In the midst of wrestling the blonde to submission, you turn your head around, shooting Lia a genuine smile. “Don’t listen to her. I actually think you’re quite cute.”

“Oi, I’ll send you to live with mum if you don’t behave!” Leah grunts, trying to shake you off her.

You tighten your legs in response, pressing Leah harder against the couch. “Just you try! As if she’d take your word over her favorite daughter’s.”

It’s right here, right as that sentence is uttered that Lia realizes her error. That her previous conclusion was totally incorrect.

You’re not Leah’s girlfriend.

You’re her sister.

And when you look back at her in the middle of your bickering with Leah, eyes lighting up at the acknowledgement that Lia’s still looking your way, Lia comes to an even worse conclusion.

You’re Leah’s sister and she might have the tiniest crush on you.

---

It gets worse.

Lia comes to learn that night that you’ve been away in the States for college.

She learns that you played at UNC with Lotte, that your family’s footballing prowess doesn’t just end with your sister and brother.

She learns that you love photography more than you’d ever love football, hence why you haven’t continued your football career since returning to England, turning more towards capturing the game than playing it.

She learns that you love making her laugh, eyes always finding hers in a crowd when you’re out with friends.

The other Gunners have really taken a liking to you, inviting you into the squad as if you’re one of their own. It obviously helps that you’re Leah’s little sister, but soon you can be found having tea with Kimmy, hiking with Steph, out playing pool with Katie.

The more you become enveloped in the circles surrounding her life, Lia comes to an even worse conclusion than the one she made the first night at Leah’s.

Lia might be a little bit in love with you.

Despite sharing the same blood as a certain blonde defender, you’re always looking for Lia when the game ends. Lia comes to look forward to the proud smile you have on your face as you pull her in for a hug, pressing the smallest kiss to her cheek as you break apart after every game.

You always ignore every other player on the pitch until Lia makes her way towards you. Lia feels her cheeks heat up whenever Jen pokes fun at her for it, knowing very well that she just wants to make you hers.

And she would. Lia would definitely take you out on a real date, treat you the way you deserve.

Only… there’s Leah. There’s Leah who is your sister and her best friend. There’s Leah who might be the most loyal friend she’s made in a while, but also overly protective of you. Just last week Leah nearly took the head off of a random girl at the bar who tried to buy you a drink. You had apologized with a wave as the girl rushed off in tears, never to be seen again.

So yeah. Maybe Lia’s just the tiniest bit terrified of the older Williamson to ever think about asking you out.

Though maybe she really doesn’t have a reason to be afraid.

Lia’s crush began with a dinner. Seems fitting it ends over one too.

The girls have all been invited over on behalf of Leah. With an international break coming up, Leah really wanted everyone to have a fun time over a meal. Though that really means you cooking dinner for the full squad.

Lia’s quick to offer you a hand, ignoring all the teasing left behind by the others in the living room. You make quick work of all of the dishes, working in sync with one another.

There’s shy smiles exchanged every here and there when you accidentally get into each other’s way, but it’s awkwardly laughed away as always.

Lia’s lost in thought, really deciding if she should risk the wrath of Leah when she spots you pulling out the last tray from the oven.

“Smiley fries?” Lia laughs, not having seen you put them in.

“For the child in the family,” you wink, head nodding towards the woman who just so happens to make her way into the kitchen at this very moment.

“For me?!” Leah gasps, grin on her face as she skips over.

‘Child,’ you mouth at Lia again, quickly putting on a fake smile when Leah’s head swivels your way again.

“You’re my favorite sister, have I ever told you that?”

“I’m your only sister,” you mutter under your breath, choosing to just take the praise without a fuss.

When all’s said and done and all of the Arsenal girls are sprawled out in your living room in various conditions, Lia finds herself sat on the couch, barely an inch between the two of you. You’ve taken her hand into your lap, gently playing with her fingers, and Lia can feel the heat rising to her face at the domesticity of it all.

You’re grinning at something Steph is showing you on the other side of the couch and Lia can’t help but watch the way your eyes light up, body buzzing beside hers. It would be so easy to pull you into her lap right here, but as a familiar shadow falls over the two of you, Lia’s brain grinds to a halt.

Both of you look up to see a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in your direction, Leah less than amused to see the lack of space between you and her friend.

Or at least that’s what Lia assumes until the groan falls out of Leah’s mouth. “Jesus, put the poor woman out of her misery.”

You glare at Leah, trying to kick out at her legs. “Go away, Leah! No one invited you.”

“This is my home,” the blonde shoots back, expertly avoiding your feet before plopping down right between the two of you. She’s half in your lap but quickly wiggles her way in the tiny gap between you and Lia, much to the Swiss’s disappointment. You try to throw an elbow into Leah’s gut but she takes it like a champ, simply throwing one arm over you and the other over Lia.

“Now then, my sweet, sweet, innocent gays. Do I have to do all the hard work for the two of you?”

Lia risks a glance your way, noting the frown set upon your face as you don’t even bother looking your sister’s way. Blue eyes are quick to lock onto hers though, and Lia finds herself under the scrutiny of Leah.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leah mocks, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, give me a break. If I have to see the two of you give each other ‘fuck me’ eyes one more time, I might actually kick (Y/N) out so you guys can jumpstart your u-hualing experience.”

Lia’s mouth clicks shut, deciding to take a page out of your book.

Head darting back and forth between the two of you, Leah lets out a loud groan again. “Guys! C’mon. Do I really need to ask her out on your behalf?”

---

It’s three years later.

Lia makes you cry when she drops onto a knee.

Leah’s more than ecstatic when you ask her to be your maid of honor.

“I can’t wait to tell the world how I got the two of you together.”

Lia has to stop you from taking back your offer.

#lia walti x reader #lia walti imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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