#I also like deal with the devil/the devil and X stories a lot! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

Text

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart.

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

533 notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

masterlist

all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)

i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x

JJK

SERIES

THROTTLE

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you. current wc: 160,244 warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

BAD DECISIONS - link will take you to the clubdionysus tumblr!

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions. current w/c: 450k notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds 2024 note: wattpad took down bad decisions as part of their 2024 purge </3. it's now hosted on it's very own tumblr (clubdionysus) and over on ao3!

BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX

ONE SHOTS

extended - 5k words or more

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out wordcount: 5.8K notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn’t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

LANDSLIDES

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers) synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. wordcount: 6.8K warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

something borrowed

- mafia au | forbidden love

dance with the devil

- royalty au | former lovers

KNJ

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

back to you

- idol au | exes

KSJ

MYG

SERIES

HUSH

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?) synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops ! current w/c: 17.5k notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

PALLADIUM

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut synopsis: min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent. wordcount: 3.2K notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!

JHS

PJM

KTH

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

sundae (kinda love)

- childhood friends | angst

#bts fanfic #bts masterlist #byholly #jungkook fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook x reader

701 notes · View notes

bonthefuckjourx · 3 months

Text

Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)

SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.

WARNINGS: brief mention of depression/anxiety

WORD COUNT: 3100k+

A/N: Hello everyone! I haven't posted around tumblr all that much, but I hope this gets some traction as there isn't much Lucifer fanfiction to begin with. I love writing fantasy stories intermeshed with romance and Hazbin Hotel was a perfect world for this.

And yes, eventually there will be smut. I suppose you'll have to stick around and find out~

(Also, I hope you all know the Reputation album by Taylor Swift is fueling this ^-^)

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

Chapter One: ...Ready For It?

One day you were in school studying for the next exam and then you were spawned into a hellscape like no other. The literal hell. You never were religious, and it always seemed more like a fear-mongering cult to you. Apparently even though you didn’t do anything evil or inherently bad you still went to hell. Gunshots fired off into the distance making you drop to the ground. They were loud and scared you to no end. Shakily you stood up, started to run. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you didn’t want to die, not again. Eventually you ran out of strength and wandered inside a hotel-like building before collapsing on the ground.

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

“Don’t just stand there Vaggie, come help me! It’s okay we have you now.”

With closed eyes you made out an alarmed high-pitched voice. It sounded like warmth and trust. You didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. Arms lifted you up and after some time you landed in a warm bed. You drifted off into a fitful sleep.

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

As your eyes fluttered open you were met with one beady red eye.

“Nifty would ya give her some space?”

This so-called nifty jumped off your bed and landed on the floor next to you.

“Hi, I’m Charlie. You collapsed on the floor of my hotel and so we took you up to a room. And yes, you can stay as long as you would like.”

A hand was extended out for you to take and with a shaky arm you took it. The demon was pale with two red dots on her face that looked a bit like blush. She wore a suit like attire and seemed to be the one in charge. As you looked around you noticed a snake-like demon who said his name was Sir Pentious, a cat-like demon whose named Husk, and a spider-like demon whose named Angel Dust. The last demon sent chills down your spine with his unnerving smile, his name was the Radio Demon or Alastor. You hoped you never had to be in a room alone with him.

“Uh thank you all for helping me. It’s my first day in hell and it’s a lot. I didn’t know where to go so I just kept running and running and it was so loud and violent and-“You started to look around frantically hyperventilating a little. This was all too much.

“Hey it’s okay. This is supposed to be a safe place. You don’t have to go out there anymore if you don’t want to.” You looked at Charlie reassurance in her eyes.

“It’s called the Hazbin Hotel! We rehabilitate sinners so that they hopefully one day can go to Heaven. As you know my name is Charlie. I’m also the Princess of Hell and I really want to be able to save my people from this life.”

She looked solemn, but determined and in that moment, you had no doubt of what she would accomplish. You sat up and pulled Charlie in for a hug. Even though she was born in hell, she was much kinder than any soul you met on earth.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

You pulled away from the hug and noticed a tearful look in her eyes even though she was smiling.

“I’ll be honest I’m not quite sure why I’m here. It’s not like I did anything super evil, I just kind of lived an average life.”

“You didn’t kill anyone?” The radio demon mentioned from the corner.

“What! No? What is wrong with you?”

“What about prostitution? Apparently, the big guy hates it when you whore yourself out like that,” Angel Dust mentioned with a shrug.

“I was a poor college student, but I didn’t turn to that. I just had to take out an insane amount of loans.”

“Gambling, or suicide? I lost everything and well there wasn’t much place left in the mortal realm for me. The easy way out is an easy way into hell,” said Husk who stood next to Angel Dust.

“Nope neither. I don’t really think I had a reason other than not believing in God. I mean I can see now that demons are real, but why would I believe in a God that doesn’t care? His rules are horrible, you can’t be gay, or just enjoy yourself with another person. I lived my life by my morals, not someone else’s.”

You crossed your arms hoping the others would get the hint. You just wanted to be alone right now. Your life was cut short, and for what?

“I’m sorry y/n, but we can figure something out. Just give me some time, I promise.”

Charlie held out her pinkie and reluctantly you agreed.

“We’ll give you some time alone then.”

With that Charlie turned to leave and the rest followed her. After the door shut you curled up under the covers and wondered if life would ever be better. This whole heaven and hell thing made your head hurt. You never had much luck in life why would this be any different?

A few weeks passed and although your death was still fresh in your mind you started to feel a little bit better. You and Charlie talked and set out on a plan to help rehabilitate you. She said you really didn’t need much help, but rather she had the hard task of trying to convince Heaven you should be up there with them. You both talked every day, and it helped take some of the edge off your anxiety. That and you always seemed to have company when you wanted it at the hotel. Angel Dust made you laugh and was always up for a drinking game of some sorts. Husk was always there if you needed to talk or rant about your previously human life. Sir Pentious was a bit peculiar, but over time you warmed up to him too. You didn’t talk to Vaggie much as she always seemed a bit distant. Everything she did was for Charlie, and she didn’t exactly make friends with other people and tended to only light up if Charlie was in the room. Thankfully you both silently agreed not to talk much. In the evenings you all would curl up around the fireplace and share stories or play games. Charlie loved to play human games like Never Have I Ever or Twenty Questions. She claimed they helped build trust.

One morning while you and Charlie were having your daily talk, she mentioned that her dad would be over later that day. She was going to show him the hotel so that hopefully he could set her up an audience with Heaven. She could finally mention the souls, like you, here that could be rehabilitated. You were ecstatic that she could finally move forward with her plan but scared to meet someone new. Not only that, but this was Charlie’s dad Lucifer. The Lucifer, like the biblical fallen angel that probably has some awesome, but frightening powers. The anxiety was eating you up and you could tell Charlie wasn’t much better. She mentioned she hadn’t seen him in a few years, and you wondered how hard that must be on her.

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

“Everyone gather around! He should be here any minute,” Charlie yelled out to us, clapping to have our attention. I stood next to Angel Dust as we gathered around her near the front entrance. He always made me feel a little safer.

“Charlie, so good to see you!”

The door swung open and in came the most eccentric man I ever saw. He was almost bouncing around the room, hugging Charlie, then seeing Razzle and Dazzle, and finally stopped when he noticed the rest of us. You couldn’t move your gaze as you realized he was staring straight into your eyes. The moment was fleeting as Charlie grabbed his attention.

“Dad, hi. This is my hotel, and these are the inhabitants. Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, and y/n.”

When Charlie mentioned your name Lucifer met your gaze again. It was electrifying and made you blush to no end. He looked away giving Charlie his full attention once again. Suddenly Alastor appeared right next to her.

“And I am the hotelier. Pleased to meet you, the name’s Alastor.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened as Alastor put his arm around Charlie, his smile growing ever bigger. You swore a small growl came out of Lucifer’s mouth.

“Hot,” Angel Dust whispered near your ear, and you did your best not to give out a small laugh.

“Charlie, you need to stay away from this demon.”

“Dad, I trust him. He’s been nothing but helpful. Once you see the hotel, I know you’ll have a change of heart.”

Soon Charlie was leading her father around the hotel with Alastor on her right-hand side. Lucifer was less than happy to see his daughter hanging out around the Radio Demon. He didn’t trust Alastor, which you understood in a way. He was happy to meet Vaggie stating how he also like girls. He was quite awkward, but adorable in a way.

Next thing you know Alastor and Lucifer were arguing again. Music playing randomly and seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yea don’t ask me why, but sometimes they break out into song.” Angel Dust leaned in towards you to comment shrugging his shoulders.

A small laugh escaped as you took your time eyeing Lucifer up. Soon enough he was singing, his voice mesmerizing. His inflections and body language all showed off how prideful and confident he was. You supposed that’s why he’s called the sin of pride. There was something so sweet about how much he wanted to help his daughter, and attractive too. You never were able to have a family on Earth, but you wouldn’t mind having his babies.

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

After the little sing off between Alastor and Lucifer, Charlie talked to her dad about the audience with Heaven. He decided to help her, and you could tell their relationship healed a little. You decided to leave them to it and left to go up toward your room. The elevator dinged at your level, and you walked out. The balcony at the end of the hall caught your attention as its glass doors were open. A breeze blew in and you relished the fresh air. As you reached toward the doorway you hesitated, bringing your hand back. Your heartrate picked up, pounding in your ears. You were going to turn around and run into your room, your safe place. Then you heard someone approach from behind you, making you quickly turn away from the glass doors.

“Beautiful day out, isn’t it?” Lucifer mentioned as he moved towards you.

“I suppose if you could call hell beautiful.”

“Some might, though I suppose we aren’t apart of that group. What are you doing over here?” He motioned toward the opened doors near me.

“I was going to see what the view was like, but I backed out.” You looked away from him, not being able to look him in his eyes. He stopped walking when he was right in from of you and grabbed your chin guiding you to look at him. In his eyes you could see concern and empathy.

“I know all too well what it’s like to be limited by your own mind. Not that we have a physiatrist in hell, but depression has had me for a long time.” He gave a small sympathetic smile. A small blush crossed your face being so close to him. Your heart melted a little at the kindness he showed you.

“Yea well, I just get anxious about going outside. I thought maybe I could try, but it was a stupid idea. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” He let go of your face and walked around you towards the balcony.

“I know it’s not my place, but I could help you. Not to be boastful, but you are in the presence of the most powerful demon in hell. You would be safe with me.”

With that he held out his hand, willing you to take it. In that light he looked angelic even waiting for your hand, a genuine smile across his face as the outside wind gently rustled his hair. For once in your life, you wish you could just take that leap. If only…

…and then you did.

He pulled you in close against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat as he told you to wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you did, he leapt off the side of the balcony over the railing. You closed your eyes and screamed as you both fell into a freefall. He wrapped his wings around you until they flapped open, allowing him to gain air. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, clinging to his neck and burying your face there. He chuckled to himself committing to memory this moment, feeling whole again. After about 10 minutes you both landed on solid ground. You didn’t dare let go, but he understood what you needed. Lucifer cradled you in his arms as he walked indoors.

“Here you go, you can open your eyes now.”

As you looked around you realized you were in an observatory-like room. It had high windows on all sides that looked out at Sin City. You didn’t realize until now how hard you were gripping him and embarrassingly tore yourself away from him.

“Sorry… Where are we?”

“Don’t be sorry for being yourself. It was cute.” You blushed and looked down at the floor, but quickly returned your eyes to him.

“It’s my study of sorts. I like to come up here to think or waste the day away. I used to invent so many beautiful things, but I’ve been uninspired for quite some time.”

You walked around taking in the view then turned back to look at him.

“Maybe you just need someone to inspire you.”

“Why are you willing?” He looked at you with a smirk on his face, almost implying something more.

“Sure, why not. Maybe you could help me get over my fears in return. I mean look at what you have already done for me today. I hadn’t left that hotel since I arrived.”

“Sounds like a plan, do we have a deal?” He walked toward you, willing you to take his hand again.

“What and make a deal with the devil?”

He pulled his hand away and for a second you swore you noticed hurt flash across his face. Quickly he hid it, behind a devilish smile and you decided then you’d never make him feel that way ever again.

“It doesn’t have to be, more so a saying then anything.”

You stepped forward taking his hand in yours. He lifted his head up to look into your eyes, his face slightly flushed.

“No, I want it to be, Lucifer. Let’s make a deal, to be there for each other until we can beat this. “

He nodded his head, smiling with loving eyes, tears forming in them. With that he placed his other hand over yours and spoke. His eyes turned red, horns sprouted, and he looked possessed. Just as fast as it started, it ended. In the end you were left with a pentagram tattoo on your right hand. It was beautiful, but soon it faded leaving just an indent of it behind.

“I enchanted it so that others cannot see it, however you can feel it. It will be binding until we fulfill the deal. I don’t own your soul or anything, but it acts like a bond between us. It will also let you teleport, put your hand over it and think of where you want to go. It’ll let me know where you’re going, but don’t worry I won’t pry.” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as for once you felt like you could finally take a breath. You felt much safer knowing Lucifer was a thought away.

After that you two kept each other company and every now and then he would show you something he made. His magic was gorgeous and made your heart soar, you’ve never seen anything like it. As the night dragged on you mentioned you should probably head back so that the other’s wouldn’t worry.

“Remember just touch the pentagram with your hand and think of where you want to go.”

As you did you thought of your warm bed and the pentagram flashed to life. Then you felt something. The bond between you two tightened and you felt him. His magic pulsed through him as if it was alive and in front of you a portal appeared. The bond closed then for you. It only stays opens when he uses his magic, but as you stared into Lucifer’s eyes you felt emotions overpower you. Thoughts of safe and warm and love flowed through your head. Lucifer looked confused and scared for a second before becoming his confident self again. You said your goodnights as you fled through the portal to your bed.

Lucifer’s POV

He watched as y/n touched her hand waiting for his magic. He hadn’t made many deals in his life, but he knew enough to know what to expect. There would be a bond in place caused from his magic and that would be used to make portals.

His eyes wandered y/n’s body taking a second to indulge. Quickly he reverted to her eyes as she looked back at him. He wondered when their short friendship turned into more, or if it simply always was. She made him feel safe and warm and loved. At that moment a small tendril of magic snapped into place. He stepped back afraid of the woman in front of him, before realizing how much he was showing with his face. After recomposing himself he bid her goodnight and she left with a sleepy smile on her face.

As the portal closed, he fell to his knees, wondering why fate would be so cruel. After thousands of years, trying to find something to inspire him and be his light. After all the fights with Lilith and trying to raise Charlie simply because he thought Lilith was it. With the palm of his hand, he wiped the tears away as he sobbed looking though the skylight at the darkness above. She wasn’t an archangel or a seraphim, or even an angel at all. All this torture and pain was for her.

His mate…

No, his salvation.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #reader x character #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer x you #angel dust #hazbin husk #huskerdust #nifty hazbin hotel

212 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 5 months

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him.

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true.

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks.

Foggy dislocated his shoulder.

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act.

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital.

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him.

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips.

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on.

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought.

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence.

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say.

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why?

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask.

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet.

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says.

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind.

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real.

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says.

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further.

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go.

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort.

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about.

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot.

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself.

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise.

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?”

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.”

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing.

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier.

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor.

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin.

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry.

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help.

“It’s fine,” he assures you.

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.”

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier.

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes.

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do.

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie.

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for.

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers.

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.”

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye.

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running.

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

220 notes · View notes

rafetopia · 5 months

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!drug boss!reader

genre: smut with some plot -> 18+ only!!

warnings: knife play, gun play, blood play, blood licking, mentions of death, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, implied sex on drugs, chocking (sexual way)...., i hope i didn't forget anything but yeah this one here is a little bit darker

even though this is all written with the intention that it's 100% consensual, please keep in mind that guns, knives (and indirectly drugs) are involved

words: ~5.7k

summary: a visit to his drug boss turned into a fight over control and power which can only one of them win

note: this is also repost from my old blog (dreamingwithrafe) and honestly, idk if this is edited

48 hours. That’s the amount of time Rafe Cameron had to come up with five thousand dollars. Sure, for someone like him this shouldn't be a big deal but his dad cut off his money as a punishment for misusing the money he gave him for generators after the storm “Agatha'' hit the outer banks. He was broke and in deep shit. So deep, that alone the thought of time passing every second sent a cold shiver down his spine. He knew Barry wasnt one to fuck with, no drug dealer was but it was something else, something that Barry said before Rafe left his house, that wouldnt leave his brain.

“If you’re screwing me, it’s not just me that you’re screwing, it’s her.”

Her.

Now, Rafe Cameron had never met her before but he heard the stories. Stories of cars burning in driveways, stories of boats that fail in the middle of the ocean and even whole companies being shut down all because of her. Not a lot of people on this island have ever come across her, or maybe they have but never knew it was her. Those unlucky souls that did indeed meet her, described her as a woman made of nothing but cold beauty, as if the devil made her himself. Eyes so pure and warm, a body so divine and perfect with a soul so dark and evil, even Lucifer himself would shiver if he ever looked into it.

But Rafe didn't believe these stories. How could a woman, described as barely older than him, be capable of something like that? How could someone with eyes so pure be so evil and yet, even though he tried to convince himself, alone the thought of being exposed to her anger, sent shivers down his spine.

And yet, he found himself at the address, an unknown number texted him, as word got around that he wanted to meet her. He had to check twice if he was at the right address, since he found himself in front of his step moms favorite flower shop.

He let his hand trace over his back pocket, checking if everything he might need was there, before he took a deep breath and walked towards the store.

“Hello darling, what can I do for you?” An elderly woman asked as soon as he entered the shop.

“I uhmm…” He paused as he tried to remember the code word that was given him. “I am here for uhmm… black lilies.”

“Black lilies?” She asked as she raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. Black lilies.”

“Well then you have to come with me, sir.” She signalized him to follow her and walked into the private area of the shop where she stopped in front of a door. She opened it with her key before signaling him to go inside. It was an old utility room, or so he thought. In reality it was some sort of elevator that brought him down into the basement of the building.

When the door opened, he found himself in some sort of dark office. It looked comfortable, even though it had no sort of daylight. Even though the room had no windows, it smelled fresh in there, like flowers. He quickly found them on the shelf next to another door, probably coming from the flower shop above them. In the middle was a desk and behind it, sat a woman, with a glass of brown liquor in her right hand and a newspaper in the other. She was laying back in her chair with her feet resting on the desk.

“I’ve been expecting you, Rafe Cameron.” She said, without looking up at the man in front of the elevator. “Now come on darling, take a seat.” She smiled softly as she gestured to the seat on the other side of the desk. He was only now able to see her whole and they weren’t wrong. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, with eyes so soft he felt like he could tell her everything. Her wavy hair was falling over her shoulders gracefully, matching her silky black dress perfectly. he didn’t see much of it, since it was hidden behind her desk but it was tight, so tight that he could see the borders of what he assumed were nipple piercings, making it hard for Rafe to keep his eyes up.

“Thank you, Miss …”

“(Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N).” He finished.

“Now, can I offer you something to drink, Mr. Cameron?” She asked, with a smile so beautiful, one could easily forget who she was.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“So whiskey or vodka? I also got rum but you don’t really seem like a rum type of person.”

“Whiskey.” He answered shortly.

She nodded and poured him a drink. He took the time she was distracted to look around her office a little bit more, trying to figure out if she could have any weapons hidden but there was one thing he’d noticed immediately, since the second he entered that office.

“So… are you alone down here?” He asked, trying to hide the slight shakiness in his voice.

She looked at him in disbelief before handing him his drink. “That’s not a subtle way to find out if it’s just the two of us, Mr. Cameron.”

“Oh god, no I… I just thought that maybe you’d have some security or something.”

“See darling, if i’ve learned one thing during my few years in this business, it’s to not trust anyone else with my safety, except myself.” She scoffed. “But why are you asking? Are your intentions not as pure as I thought they were?” She asked carefully, her eyes never leaving him.

Her gaze burned right through him, causing him to shit around in his seat. “Oh no they are as pure as they can be.” He spoke, his voice a little bit shakier than he intended to be and his eyes not leaving the desk in front of him, as he desperately tried to avoid hers. He was clearly nervous and she knew it.

“Hmmm.” She purred as she swung her legs from the table in order to position herself closer to him. He now looked around the room, pretending like he was just waiting for a response when he suddenly felt a cold material against his skin, gently pushing his face up. He didn't need to look in order to know what it was, he knew exactly what the barrel of a gun felt like. He swallowed at the realization, now slowly looking up into her eyes. What once seemed so warm and welcoming once, now turned ice cold. “Then tell me, pretty boy, why aren’t you able to look me in the eyes? You haven't once since you arrived here, only starring when I wasn’t looking. Such a shame actually, you have such pretty eyes.”

“I…” He wanted to say something but it was like the words suddenly left his brain, but even if he had known what to say, he wouldn’t have gotten any word out due to his throat turning dry as dust.

“Shht it’s okay, darling, I knew about that gun in your backpocket since the moment you got here. You should really learn how to hide it better. Now tell me, why did you want to meet?” She smirked, “And before you answer, slowly put your gun up here and leave your hands on the table. Don’t bother lying sweetheart, I’ll know.” Her voice turned dark now, nothing like the sweet sound from when he first got there.

“Fine.” He growled, as he reached into his back pocket and did as he was told. She pushed the gun aside with a grin, her eyes still not leaving him for a second. “I owe you money, a lot actually and-”

“And you wanted to ask for more time?” She let out a soft laugh.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend like you didn’t know that already.” The boy scoffed and it was as if something shifted in him. “Now you have my hands and my gun, what about you putting that thing away so we can have a civilized conversation.”

“So, so many demands, one could think you’re the one charge.”

“Oh no baby, we all know you are.” He smirked, a dark sparkle in his light eyes.

She was clearly surprised at his sudden confidence but impressed enough to put the gun away. “So you came here, only to tell me that you have no money?” She chuckled. “That’s bold.”

“I thought maybe I could do something else for you, to pay my debt.” The young man proposed, causing the girl to raise an eye. “A job, of course.” He added quickly as he realized how his proposal sounded at first. Even though he would have lied to himself if he said he wouldn’t be open for that as well.

“And what job do you have in mind Mr. Cameron?” She asked as she leaned forward, crossing her arms under her chest. “What could you possibly do for me that would cover your debt?”

“You tell me.” He smirked confidently. “You’re the boss, aren't you?” Now it was him that moved closer to her. It was hard to tell for either of them where this new found confidence came from when his heart was in his boots only moments ago. But there was something else Rafe was feeling, a feeling that came up everytime she laid her eyes on him. He was smitten by her beauty and her power and he didn’t want to admit it but he was impressed. How did she manage to climb that ladder up so high, in a business that was dominated by middle aged men?

“Right… You know, I might actually have a job for you.”

“Continue…”

She told him about how she needed a driver for her next shipment since her regular one got into an accident. It was an easy job and would pay way more than he owed her. He was in immediately, no further questions asked. She was about to explain the details when her phone started ringing.

“Excuse me.” She mumbled as she grabbed her phone and disappeared into the next room.

While she was gone, Rafe used the time to look around when his eyes fell on the leftovers of some white powder next to her glass. He wasn’t craving anything right now, but he knew he’d be later.

Rafe also knew it was a bad idea from the moment he got it but he knew how the withdrawal would feel like, he had to go through it way too often before. So he got up and carefully looked around, trying to find any sign of her coming back but he could still hear her cussing around in the other room in a language that he assumed was Spanish. It made sense since he knew she had contacts in middle and south america.

He walked around the desk, trying not to make a sound, until he was standing next to her empty chair. He tried to open the drawers but none of them would open except for one. He carefully opened it and there it was, a tiny bag of white powder.

He thought about it for another moment, knowing this would probably be the stupidest thing he ever did, even worse than buying that bike from the generator money, but then, when the addiction hit, no one was able to think rational and Rafe Cameron the least.

He took the bag and quietly closed the drawer, again, trying not to make any alarming noises.

He shoved the bag into his pocket and let himself fall back into the seat, as he waited for her to come back.

“I’m so sorry darling, someone messed up my last shipment and now they’ve got the cops investigating.”

“I… I’m sorry to hear that ma’am.”

“Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart, it will resolve itself on its own soon.” She smirked confidently as if she had a backup plan for something like this all along.

“I’m afraid I have to leave now…” Rafe stumbled, trying to contain his voice from becoming all shaky again but it was hard considering he just robbed a drug boss. “Can you… can you text me the details?”

“Sure.” She answered, with a smile on her face that was way too soft and friendly for his liking.

He got up and reached out to shake her hand, which she returned. “Then…thank you for giving me this chance and I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, you won’t.” She smirked and got closer to him, dangerously closer to him.

He gave her a stern and rather uncomfortable nod before he turned around on his heels, dying to get out of there as soon as possible. He thought he did it when he suddenly felt the cold metal of a gun pressed against his head. He closed his eyes at the feeling, trying to stay calm because he knew doing that was his best and probably only option.

“Did you really think I would just let you walk away after you stole from me?” She whispered into his ear, followed by a soft laugh. “You really are dumber than I thought.”

“If you shoot me, you will never see your money.” He spoke quietly.

“You think I’m relying on your money?” She chuckled. “Sweetheart, I'd buy myself a new pair of heels from the money you owe me.” He took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do next. He still had his gun in his back pocket but she was standing so close to him, he was sure that she even felt it against her leg. “Now put your hands up, pretty boy.”

He did as told and slowly turned around, now looking directly into her stone cold eyes. He tried to keep cool but his heart was pounding like it never had before. He was scared, obviously but there was also something about this scenario that turned him on. Maybe it was the intoxicating smell of her perfume, maybe it was the way her eyes flickered when she scanned him upside down, or maybe it was the way her dress hugged her body so perfectly, like it was made just for her, revealing just the perfect amount of skin but not too much. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, she was dangerous, she was a killer and soon she would have his blood on her hands but if she was so bad, then why was so down for her?

He tried to hide it but she saw the fear in his eyes. He was terrified and she thought it was adorable. She didn’t lie earlier, she never lied, he did have pretty eyes and if she wasn't careful she might have lost herself in them. She had trouble admitting it to herself but she was intrigued. How could such a pretty boy, coming from one of the richest families of the island get himself in so much trouble? Stealing from her? Especially after she was so gracious and offered him a job to pay his debt? She knew what she had to do, she had to keep up her reputation after all but if she knew what to do then why wasn’t he dead on the floor already? Why was he still standing in front of her? If she knew what to do then why wasn’t he on his knees, pleading for his damn life? If she knew what to do then why was she still standing there, thinking about the taste of his lips on hers?

He got closer to her, as he bit his lips while his eyes flickered from hers down to her lips. He was close, his lips almost touching hers and his breath so hot against her skin it always felt like he could burn her. She was the one with her finger against the trigger and yet her heart beat so fast, she thought it might explode.

“So what, you gonna shoot me now?” He whispered.

“You know I have to. You stole from me.”

“Hm.” He chuckled softly against her lips. “Then do it sweetheart, shoot me.”

She closed her eyes, preparing to pull the trigger when she suddenly felt his lips on hers. The kiss was slow and shaky at first, considering he still had a gun to his head but it quickly turned into something hungry and passionate. She leaned into it as she pushed him against the wall behind them. She could feel him smirking against her lips as his hand wandered over her hips until it landed on her ass. She tried to stay focused, careful not to lose control with her gun still pressed onto his head, signaling him one wrong move and it could all be over. But she couldn't keep her focus for long, as his kisses got more intense each second and his hand movements became bolder with each kiss. It was as if he forgot about his situation, or as if he just stopped caring. She was about to forget it herself when he suddenly swung her around, making her drop the gun at the harsh impact against the wall. She wanted to do something about it but got quickly stopped by a clicking sound and the feeling of cold metal against her head.

She swallowed at the sudden change of situation, knowing he was in control now. She silently cursed at herself for not taking his gun away when she stopped him in front of the elevator but maybe some part of her knew what they were doing when she chose to ignore it.

“You dropped something, princess.” He smirked, knowing god damn well he won this round. “I’m in charge now.”

“Looks like it.” She whispered as she bit her lip. “Then tell me darling, what happens next?”

(Y/N) would lie if she said she didn’t like how the tables have turned. She would lie if she said it didn’t drive her crazy how he tricked her into losing her focus. She would lie when she said it didn’t make her even hornier than before and the pool in her thong proved it.

She could regain control of the situation with ease and he would be stupid if he thought otherwise. (Y/N) knew what she was doing, she knew to never rely on solely one weapon, she knew better than that.

Coward. She thought to herself after she didn’t get any response. She leaned in and started kissing his neck in order to take matters into her own hand. She knew what she had to do and his lack of anticipation only made it easier for her. Or so she thought.

“Wanna make you feel good.” She breathed into his ear as she gently dug her teeth into his soft skin. “Please.”

“But what gentleman would I be if I wouldn't make sure you’re satisfied first?” He smiled. “Rafe Cameron always makes sure his girl is satisfied first.”

She swallowed at the realization that he saw right through her. Because Rafe knew better than to trust her. “Now head back against the wall, princess.” He grinned. “And don’t move.”

She did as she was told and leant back. He leant in as he started placing wet kisses on her neck before traveling back to her lips where his tongue quickly gained control of her mouth. His one finger still on the trigger, his other hand went down and slowly crawled under the dress where he was met with the sharp end of a pocket knife. He laughed at the pain, knowing he was right.

“Hm, would you look at that?” He grinned as he pulled it out from beneath her dress, blood dripping down his hand. “Look what you did to me baby.” He didn't really expect an answer and he didn’t get one. All he got was a wicked smirk on her lips and a look so evil, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. She slowly reached on to his hand, never breaking eye contact as she put his fingers into her mouth, careful not to cut herself with the knife still in his hands. She sucked off every single drop of blood before releasing his fingers.

“Took care of it, didn’t I?”

He chuckled at the realization of what just happened before leaning back in. The kiss was hungrier now, as his tongue traced her mouth, making him taste his own blood on her tongue. He put the gun back into his pocket, knowing it would be easier if he focused on one weapon at a time.

She could feel the sharp blade tracing over her skin as he cut off her thong with one quick cut. She whined at the pain as the knife cut her skin, causing Rafe to giggle. “What? Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He asked with a tone of fake concern in his voice.

“Just a tickle.”

“Hmmm.” He mourned against her skin as he let his tongue travel over her skin, cleaning up the blood trail the knife caused. “So sweet.”

She gasped at the burning pain when his saliva met her wound but let her head fall back against the wall, as his tongue swirled through her folds and sweet moans escaped her mouth. This man knew exactly what he was doing as he let the tip of his tongue trace over her clit before slamming it back inside. He still held the knife in his one hand, ready just in case she got any stupid ideas but his other hand was free to support his tongue. She held up her leg and laid it onto his shoulder, giving him not only more space to work his wonders but also giving her control over his movements. Because even if Rafe thought he had all the power, (Y/N) would never give up complete control.

She tried to keep quiet at first, not wanting Rafe to know how much she loved this but he saw how wet she was before and he could feel her walls tighten around his tongue, knowing she was close.

“Don’t try to hide your pretty voice for me darling, let me hear you.” He muffled against her pussy, sending vibrations through her body that only brought her closer to the edge.

“Don’t… don’t stop!” She whimpered between her moans.

And he didn’t stop. He kept going faster and deeper until her screams filled the room and he was pretty sure the lady from above could hear them. He helped her ride out her orgasm and licked it all clean afterwards, looking like a little boy who just got his first ice cream.

“Now, on your knees.” He demanded, as he let his pants slip down his legs, revealing his cock in front of her. She smirked at the sight, disappointed that her plan didn't work earlier but still hungry for him.

She opened up as she let the tip of his length slide over tongue, the taste of precum traveling through her mouth. He still had the knife in his hand but her movements ripped him out of reality and forced him to forget his environment, only focusing on the touch of her tongue on his skin. (Y/N) knew exactly what she was doing, her tongue tracing over his cock as if it was programmed to do just this and nothing else.

She looked up at him with innocent eyes but he could see an evil sparkle shining right back at him.

It didn’t take long until he was falling apart inside her but she took it all, like he did before. He was so wrapped up in the feeling of euphoria that he hadn’t noticed and before he knew she was standing right in front of him with the knife under his chin. As he slowly came to realize what just happened, he tried to carefully reach into his back pocket but he was met with nothing.

“You looking for this, pretty boy?” She smirked devilishly, as she let the small gun spin through her fingers.

He swallowed, knowing that she had it all and he had indeed, nothing. “What now, princess? Gonna kill me now?” He got closer to her, completely ignoring the sharp pain of the knife that started to bury itself into his skin. “Do it. Do it baby but we both know that we’re not quite finished yet.” He whispered against her skin, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

She knew she could end it now, end it and she would win. But then she would never know how he would feel inside of her. She would never know how it feels to have him thrusting against her g-spot or how it would feel to be skin to skin with his naked body.

“You’re hesitating.” He stated, with narrowed eyes as if he was about to realize something. He chuckled softly, before slowly taking her wrist and moving it away from his throat. “You can let go sweetheart, I'm not going to run from you.”

She looked up at him, debating whether she should trust him or not. He gently let his hand slide through her hair as he pulled away loose strands and tugged them behind her ear and for a second, he could’ve sworn there was a softness in her eyes that he had never seen before. “I don’t…” She tried to say but she was too distracted. Too distracted by his hand in her hair and his other on her wrist and too distracted by his scent that blew through her nose, intoxicating all her senses.

“Shhht.” He whispered softly, with his finger now on her lips. “You don’t have to say anything darling.” He smiled. “Just relax.”

She looked at him, his eyes full of warmth, something that she hasn’t seen too often before. It felt as if he genuinely liked her, as if genuinely cared but then who was she fooling, he probably just wanted to distract her into giving into him once again. And it worked. The moment his lips touched hers she lost. The kiss was slow, not as hungry and passionate as before, as if he tried to calm her down. As if he could feel how fast her heart beat in her chest, how nervous she became with every second. He gently pushed her back against the table, hoping she’d let go of the weapons in her hands but she held steady. He had her but she was still the one in control and he hated that. His mouth wandered to her neck where he traced his tongue up to her ear, gently nibbling around her earlobe.

“Hop up baby.” He breathed into her, causing her to moan out at the tickling feeling in her ear.

The feeling shot through her whole body as she lost control of any power circling through her hands. She lost the feeling of metal against her skin but she didn’t notice, not even the klirr as the gun met the ground beneath her. All she felt was his hot breath against her skin and his erection against her cunt, that she lost sight of everything around her.

She did as told and hopped up on her desk. Rafe let go of her wrist and held up his arms, so she could pull off his shirt. She laid the knife beside her and pushed the fabric of his shoulders while he pushed his boxers down his legs completely. He then pushed her dress away under her ass until he could pull it off her body. He stopped for a second, completely hypnotized by the beauty of her body. The tattoos that marked her skin, a thin, red dragon that made its way up her rips in the right side of her body, a black rose under her left boob and many other small ones such as a date under her right boob. But the one that caught his attention the most was a snake, just between her tits. Thin, black lines with red details that crawled their way up her sternum. It only took over a small part of her body, and yet it looked incredibly majestic.

She watched him as he mustered her body, probably thinking what each of the pictures on her skin meant. He gently let his hand travel over her skin, until his thumbs reached her nipples. He carefully slid over the cold metal of her piercings, causing her to get goosebumps all over her skin.

“You’re beautiful.” He smiled softly. “Now lay down for me princess.”

She swung her leg over the table, accidentally pushing off their glasses from before. She winced at the sound of the glass breaking but quickly calmed down as Rafe hopped on right behind her, now sitting on top of her. His lips not even inches away from hers, he let his finger slide over her skin until he reached her clit. He gently massaged her until he slid inside, making sure she was ready for him.

“Please…” She whimpered, but he pulled out his fingers and placed them on her mouth, making her taste herself.

“Patience darling.” He whispered against her lips, “You want me inside of you but I don’t even know your name.”

He was right, she had only told him her last name. Only very close people to her knew her first name and Rafe Cameron, was so far away from close and yet he was the one she felt the closest to she had felt in a very long time.

“(Y/N)…” She breathed against his skin, “It’s… It’s (Y/N)”

“How pretty. Now are you gonna be a good girl for me (Y/N)?” He smiled at her nod and gently pushed himself inside her. She was indeed ready for him as he didn’t even need to use his fingers for help.

They both moaned out in sync at the feeling of him inside her. He took her hand and buried his inside, while his other hand went to her throat. She let out a quiet moan at the pressure against it, and let her hand travel through his hair, pulling him down into her lips.

While she dominated his mouth, he had control of his movements. It was as if they were made for each other, his tip perfectly reaching her spot every time he thrusted into her walls hugging him so tight, as if they never wanted to let him go again.

“You’re so tight baby girl…” He breathed out, “So perfect for me.”

She wrapped her legs around his back, losing one of her heels in the process. She pushed him even closer into her, almost screaming at the feeling as he thrusted into her even stronger. Her walls tightened around him, he knew she was close but he didn’t want it to end yet, no he wanted this to last forever.

“Rafe…” She whimpered, tears in her eyes as he pushed her closer towards her breaking point.

“Hold on baby girl, hold on for me.” He whispered as he leaned in for another kissing session. His one hand united with hers, his other leaving choking marks on her neck while her nails traced red lines over his back, so that everyone knew who he belonged to. Her.

She had never felt this sort of connection before, sure he messed up, he had bad intentions the second he entered her office but she couldn’t help it. He had her wrapped around his finger and they both knew it. Maybe it was his smile, maybe it was the way his scent intoxicated her thoughts or maybe it was just the drugs but in this moment she would’ve done everything for him and (Y/N) was never one to fall for anyone.

“Faster baby.” She whimpered between the kisses, a wish he was only happy to grant.

He sped up his pace causing her to scream out his name. “Music to my ears.” He chuckled. He then went even faster as his orgasm started to build up as well.

“Hm can’t hold it anymore…” She cried out, a tear streaming down her face. “Please…”

He thrusted into her harder and merciless as her walls tightened around him and they both let out moans and screams of pleasure as they reached their breaking points.

She had her eyes closed, as she tried to recover from her high, a soft smile on her lips. He took that picture in for a second, her makeup all messed up from her tears. It was a beautiful sight and he wished he would never have to look at something different but he also knew what he had to do.

She was about to open her eyes and say something, when she felt cold and sharp metal pressed against her throat. She opened her eyes back up and looked at his, eyes dark but with a hint of sorrow buried inside of them.

“Hm.” She scoffed. “Of course.” She tried to stay cool but he saw the tears forming in her eyes.

He was still sitting on her, pressing her body down on and cornering her between himself and the cold table beneath them. There was no way for her to turn this around and they both knew it.

He made her give up her weapon and she trusted him. She let down her guard, something that she had never done before with anyone and now she had to pay the price.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into her ear as he leaned down. “But we both knew this could only end in two ways.” He paused, leaning back to look into her eyes, gently wiping away the tear rolling out of her beautiful eye. “And… and it seems like I won.”

“Seems like you did.” She whispered before closing her eyes and accepting whatever fate it was that Rafe Cameron had for her.

add yourself to my tag list here

#jas writes ❥#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader

166 notes · View notes

unreadpoppy · 2 months

Text

Fic recs

In light of some stuff I saw, I decided to make this post to briefly talk about some fics I really like and recommend them. All are BG3 related and most are Raphael. Also, there's some authors that write a lot of great fics, I'll try to keep one fic per author or else we'll be here forever (but definetly go check everyone and their other works out!)

...

Cheerful Oblivion by @sassyandsodone - Read the tags before reading this but Love me dark stuff, the writing is amazing (legitimetly gasped at a few points) and the mix of Tav not remembering what happened and the dehumanization aspects were the cherry on top. It

I Don't Think About You Anymore (But I don't think about you any less) by @sky-kiss - This fic put me in a lot of different feels, ESPECIALLY SAD (which i do like, love when stuff makes me feel) and the ending was unexpected to me but it made it all worth it. Shed a tear or two

Devil's Debauchery by ChildofYugotth - One of the first fics I read on the Raphael tag, the first chapter lives in my mind rent free for many, many days, and I really like how the three chapters kinda go like regular raphael, haarlep and then ascended fiend, like a progression. Also read the tags.

Fallen in Flame by @cambion-companion - Love the dynamic between the two characters and how their relationship developed and the conflicting feeling that Tav has of like, being an aasimar and dealing with a devil

The Devil that knows you by @timesthatneverwere - Cat!Tav was not something I knew I needed before reading this. The relationship between Tav, Raphael and even Haarlep in this one is VERY interesting to me (and has lowkey inspired me some times) and I love seeing Raphael keeping secrets and manipulating people (also i have to mention, this fic gave us the mephisto fuck chamber)

Let the dream begin by DiscordsMuse - POTO inspired, this has hit me in the feels with relating to Morrigans struggles of feeling rejected, and honestly, Raphael as the Phantom was amazing.

finirà bene by @inaconstantstateofchange - A Halsin/Astarion/Tav one for a change, this is such an interesting and heartbreaking concept, but there's also this sense of mystery that I think is really well done. Also, beware the ANGST

Her soul will burn all the way down by khapikat222 - Read the tags, another dark fic that I loved, and this one had this manipulation and fucking with someone's fears that I really liked. Also, props to the author for making the lullaby fit, it was a great cherry on top.

Baldur's gate 3 infernal oneshots by @hrefna-the-raven - chapters 1-4 are a little story between Raphael and Tav that I really liked. The dynamic of raphael being more protective and the cat and mouse analogies were really fun!

The Intimacy of Pain by @bearhugsandshrugs - This is an Abdirak/Tav fic which I found so delightfully good, like the descriptions of how Tav was feeling and the mix of pleasure and pain were really well done

The Devil's Hour by @adarlingwrites - Also one of the first fics in the tag that I read, and what made me like OC x Canon, love the complicated but also interesting to read relationship between Fortune and Raphael, and another aspect that I really liked was Fortune's relationship with art and her parents being brought up like (like idk why but those two things really stuck with me)

Sweetening the Deal by @adevilyoudo - I have to admit that I'm a bit behind on some chapters BUT it's a great work, love seeing this side of Raphael of trying to convince Tav to take this deal (and in a way, almost confusing her even more) and I loved to see the side of the Emperor constantly being in Tav's head, I think it really conveyed well how that feels like when playing the game

The Devil You Share a Room with by @djmorn - Really fun concept and the shennanigans between the two in the beggining, when Tav is reluctant to share a room with Raphael, was a delight to read and really really fun.

Damaged by @dark-and-kawaii - This is a Rolan/Tav one, it's dark but it also tugged at my heart in a sad way, with Rolan feeling all these things and doing what he does because of the abuse he suffered and Tav also trying to understand that. Like aaaa it just, it's some good stuff this fic

Who's the Daddy by Follyfall - This fic is the definition of fun and a good time, I legitimetly laughed a lot while reading it. The writing is fun, the concept is hilarious and the relationship between Raphael, Tav, Haarlep, the baby and Wyll is really really fun.

...

Also, keep in mind that there's A LOT of amazing writers in the bg3 community and i haven't read every single written work in the tags ever, so feel free to also reblog and add reccomendations of your own, or make your own post!

#fic rec #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3

93 notes · View notes

polarisbibliotheque · 5 days

Text

Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Vergil's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Vergil's Path

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all.

Author's Notes: Fucking finally part 2 hahahaha I deeply apologize for taking so long to post Vergil's part. As some of you might have seen here, my dad suffered an accident and my life turned upside down the last few months - I'm still managing, doing damage control hahaha but slowly getting back on track with my writing.

But here is Vergil's part! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand this madness and, if you're a Dante appreciator, fret not, the red devil part is here.

I have to thank my dear friend @furyeclipse for sending me this idea as an ask a thousand years ago - and now, it is finally done! You can check Fury's work on ao3 right here, I highly recommend it!

I'm also going through a phase of powerful monsters (vampires, demons, the whole unholy pantheon) being on their knees for their human partner and, oh boy, it shows. I'm not apologizing. Oh. And the Helen of Troy/Sparta is NOT a gendered thing. It's more of being recognized as the most beautiful among mortals, enough to cause a war for their love. And yes there's a Ghost reference in there, I FINALLY got to properly listen to their music and man, why did I sleep on them for so long??

Devil May Halloween 2023 - Vergil's Path

Demonic marriages. There was a topic you had to admit you were completely ignorant about.

Vergil had mentioned it once. You did ask him when Sparda’s and Eva’s union arose as a subject in one of your researches one day – for, as far as you knew, marriages were religious and it did make you wander if demons had their own religion or only rituals.

That subject was very muddy, as per Vergil’s words. His own knowledge on the matter was very limited – and that was something new for you.

“Hmmm. A very good question indeed.” Vergil murmured as he put down his book on the table, raising his silvery eyes to you. The library was dead quiet, but his voice was always so low it wasn’t a concern – even if you both were the only living beings in that place at that hour. “You could say some demons are powerful enough to be viewed as gods, but those would be only the likes of Mundus.”

“And Sparda…?” Oh, you had to ask. After all, wasn’t Sparda the only demon strong enough to defeat Mundus? Who could ever defeat a being as powerful as a god? Only a god as well, at least in your mortal eyes.

Vergil allowed a proud smile to spread over his lips as nodded in agreement.

“Well, we do have Fortuna as an example of people worshipping demons as gods, so humans praying to demons doesn’t really surprise me. There are plenty of cults and even churches who do that.” You shrugged, organizing your books and papers, passing him a list of demonic cults you had been keeping track over the years. You weren’t one to judge, but, seeing your occupation was to slaughter demons, it was always good to keep an eye on them. “Eva and Sparda getting married made me wonder. Marriages are very religious, how did Sparda deal with that? Given his story, I don’t think it was only a civil ceremony for government benefits, right?”

“Right indeed…” Vergil once again murmured, curiously reading your list. It was a very thorough and good document, and he couldn’t stop himself to think how it was smart of you to do that. He had a list of people to keep an eye on as well now. “I’ve never really wondered about that as a child, for I didn’t know much of the world back then. We tend to accept that what we see and what it’s said to be true… But after I started researching and learning, it did spark my interest. As far as I can tell you, my father accepted my mother’s faith and married her by her rules, not the opposite. He would never do that just out of a civil agreement, he really did it for love.”

“So even with the power of gods, demons don’t have religions.”

“Again, that is a very good question. I never could really answer it with certainty.” Vergil sighed, leaving your list on the table between you and raising his silvery eyes to yours once more. “As impressive as it sounds, demons don’t lack faith. Some of them do worship more powerful demons as deities, and some of them do join each other in cults. As far as I could observe in Hell, they are very similar to humans on that matter: each has their own set of rules and beliefs and most of them kill each other for their ‘gods’.”

“Huh. Humanity once again proving they can be quite demonic.” You scoffed while rolling your eyes. Religious wars were as old as History itself and it was quite ironic for you to hear that was something present in demonic History as well.

“Or demons proving once again they have something of human after all.” Vergil shrugged after observing you a few long seconds, before turning his eyes to another one of his books again. “I’d argue not all humans, though. Differently from demons, most of them save themselves from being devilish and evil.”

“Hmmm. A few demons can also save themselves from that fate.” You had a slight smile on your lips, turning to your tea mug nearby. “And those who do can be even kinder than humans.”

That conversation would find its end right there that night, as both of you went back to your books and research – but you were able to see a slight smile on Vergil’s lips and how his eyes seemed to have softened after that.

Even if your Dark Slayer could soften under your words, you doubted other demons would do that – and even went as far as doubting they would have something close to a human heart. Vergil was different from all the demons in that place; and so, marriage was the last word you ever expected to hear.

But there you were, locked in a derelict room with Kyrie, surrounded by the long gone gothic architecture of a cathedral that once stood proud among those lands – now rotten, decayed, desecrated and with its colorful glass mosaics shattered everywhere, it was taken by demons to perform their unholy ritual.

“We’re really in it now, aren’t we Kyrie…?” You sighed back to the only human soul with you in that place – the only hope in that godforsaken night, lit only by the flickering warm light of candles. “Marriage. I did not expect it would be this way, though, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I didn’t expect it either…” Kyrie sighed in complete desolation, staring at a loose stone on the floor. “Nero is going to be so mad.”

“I can only imagine.” You answered with a giggle, taking a seat at rotten wood bench that once served as a place for priests to read while doing their own religious researches. “I don’t think Vergil is going to be very pleased as well.”

“Oh.” And it finally seemed to down on Kyrie who your lover was and how much trouble those demons were in. “Did he… Ever tell you about something like this…?”

“Well, marriage is not really a topic that usually arises with Vergil…” You had your eyes lost on an old bookcase, imagining if any of those would be worth a read. Not that you had too much time for that at the moment, but you were quite disturbed. If it was only you in that situation, you would be more at ease, but Kyrie’s presence changed everything. “But he did tell me about a similar ritual between humans and demons. The human usually isn’t a consenting participant though.”

Raising your eyes to hers, Kyrie felt a shiver down her spine. She knew exactly what you meant and that whole situation was also quite frightening for her – in a matter of fact, she probably wasn’t that scared because you were there; but even that didn’t help much. Not when both of you had no idea what was going on.

“I hate the fact they took my weapons. I’m thinking of a thousand ways to get out of here, but I can’t do it without at least my sword.” You rested your head on one of your hands, looking completely defeated. Kyrie had pity in her eyes, sitting by your side right after.

“Well… This isn’t exactly the sort of wedding dress I would choose either.” She sighed in desolation making you snort a quick laugh. “I’m not comfortable in this. I can only imagine how naked you feel.”

“Don’t tell me about it…” You rolled your eyes, pointing at your own attire. You and Kyrie looked positively ridiculous: it was as if the demon in charge of your clothes had only seen a bunch of 80’s movies depicting marriages and thought they had to be even more over the top than that. You could barely move in your own clothes and hated every single second of being in that thing. “If I at least had my gun, I’d shoot the bastard who thought this was acceptable.”

Kyrie had to giggle. It was always endearing to see how some of Vergil’s mannerisms spilled into yours over the time and vice versa. Your voice was as sharp as a piece of ice and your eyes had the same predatorial gaze – even if your words sounded funny in context.

“Couldn’t you use your summoned swords? Like Vergil?”

“I could but I shouldn’t.” Your answer was a little slow, because you were considering it. Using summoned swords was always an advantage, but it did come with its limitations. “Vergil is teaching me how to use all his arcane knowledge, little by little… But I’m human.” As you looked at Kyrie, she seemed to immediately understand what you meant: after all, she was the human companion of a half-demon as well. “It takes a lot of energy. Vergil can tap into his demonic energy that, honestly, it can power a whole city when he’s in the right mood. When it comes to me, though, I can only go so far. It takes a lot more concentration and I can do it only for a while – I’m a novice at it even, so I can’t hold it for too long. I need to train a lot more to be able to take an entire mission, for example.”

“Hmmm. It’s just like when Nero trains me with Credo’s sword…” Kyrie mumbled, resting her head on both of her hands, while her elbows leaned on her knees. You had to giggle: she looked like a bummed out child. “It’s so heavy, I can only do a couple of moves and I get tired quickly.”

“Is that why you’ve been training strength at the gym recently…?” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. There was something of sweet about that.

Your little angel was soon going to become a buffed little angel waving a big ass sword around. You loved that concept. Nero’s jaw would hit the floor.

“Exactly.” But Kyrie had the most angelic of smiles on her lips. You knew how it was important to her to be able to use Credo’s sword, even if it was just to protect herself and the children of the orphanage – she was never going to become a devil hunter like you. But she was going to be a guardian angel… Like Credo would’ve been if Sanctus hadn’t taken him away in that demonic cult in Fortuna.

Before you could say anything else, though, you felt a shift in the air. Furrowing your brows, you immediately got up from your seat and put yourself in front of Kyrie: whatever it was, it would have to go through you first. She didn’t say a word, seeming to hide behind you and that horrid thing you were wearing – which didn’t really work, seeing how evident her own dress was.

With a few sparks, one of the demon lords spawned right in front of you: Erlach.

“Everything seems to be ready for the ceremony, then. Good.” His smile spread across his leathery skin as a row of a thousand sharp knives. Erlach carried horns and claws, eyes with desolation and the fiery pits of his home, and a set of large wings fit for an overgrown bat – but something about his features were astoundingly human. Demon lords could tower over humans, sometimes even taller than doors, and carry all the might and horror of Hell, but their kind were built in resemblance with their mortal peers – which wasn’t very common when it came to demons.

“When you force your guests to take part in it, things do get ready at your will, demon.” You had that typical coldness in your eyes – the type that would make the will of a lesser demon waiver. It wasn’t the case with Erlach, though: a spark seemed to have crossed his eyes, as he stared at you for a few seconds with interest.

“Apologize being so rude, but I do think you wouldn’t have come this far out of free will, human.” He spat back, allowing a smile to take over his features once more. It wasn’t the most inviting thing you had ever seen, you had to be honest.

“With this sort of attire, I certainly wouldn’t have.”

To your surprise, Erlach laughed in response. You quickly shared a glare with Kyrie, both of you uneasy with such… Tolerance from him.

“I might have to agree with you. Now, come. I wish to speak to you in private – we have enough to discuss.”

Before you could even respond, you blinked and suddenly, you were in an old study. Probably a part of the cathedral that only priests had access, with private rooms where they could make their own little libraries and studies – the desk had books and documents all over it, the fire was lit and a thousand candles burned in orange to give light to one of the deepest nights of the year.

You tried not to sigh: demonic teleportation was always a nuisance to you. Your human body still had to get used to that and you always got a little angry at Vergil when he void teleported you with Yamato: he was wise to always ask your permission first and, if it happened during an emergency and it was the only thing available for him to protect you, he knew he was in for some serious complaining from your part later.

Honestly, Vergil would rather have you safe, complaining at him and as mad as a human could be than have you harmed in a place he couldn’t protect you. He was actually getting well versed in dealing with your void teleportation complaints.

“Your kind isn’t very prone to conversations.” You had to point out, taking a deep breath. Your dizziness would be gone in a few seconds and you didn’t want Erlach to know how much it affected you. “Mindless dismemberments and self-boasting talk seem to be the preferred route for demons.”

“Lesser demons. Demon lords do have a different approach to things… And deals.” Erlach walked around his table, skimming over some documents before turning his fiery eyes to you and smiling once more. “The brainless dismembering style is still preferred by some, though. Like Orcus.”

“The second demon lord here tonight.” As you noted, Erlach seemed to have enjoyed your answer. It meant you were paying attention, not only trying to escape. “Demons are quite selfish as well, I wouldn’t expect to see your kind engaging in alliances. Or is that something peculiar to demon lords as well…?”

Yes, you were trying to provoke him – it was in your fighting style, in your blood. When fighting against demons, they all boasted how terrible they were, how they would smash you into a paste on the pavement and feast on your bones. You had to know how to answer at the same level or the fear would get to you. After all, you were fighting against supernatural things on a daily basis, obviously faster and stronger than you. If you didn’t taunt them to inspire a little bit of fear and belittle them before your humanity, you would cower in a corner and wait for certain death.

It was something Vergil admired on you, though. You had everything to fear those you fought against – and, sometimes, you knew you were overpowered by them. Even so, you wouldn’t allow that to show, you would masterfully control your emotions and only let out those you allowed your enemies to see. Vergil was quite proud of that.

“It’s peculiar to those of us who rather use our minds instead of our powers.” Erlach’s eyes lost all interest they had on the documents and were immediately glued to you and you only. Not once you shifted your gaze, and not once your body seemed to want to run away. You just stood there, immobile, gazing back at his fiery eyes with the same conviction as his – waiting the rest of his answer. “You see, I could break your bones with the flick of my wrist, but that wouldn’t be so fun, would it…?” Erlach approached with a slight smile on his lips, some fun playing in his words. His steps were slow and calculated, everything he could to inspire fear in your human heart. “There’s so much more in this world than bending it to your will by force.”

“It is a lot easier. Or so did Mundus think.” You crossed your arms and slightly raised your head, failing to notice how arrogant you looked… Just like Vergil used to be. Dante said one day both of you would get your ass kicked for looking cocky and, well, your day might have arrived. You wouldn’t let your pride slip out of you, tough, and something about Erlach’s demeanor made you think he wasn’t really annoyed by it. His feelings were… Something else.

“It didn’t take him too far, did it…?” Erlach raised one of his eyebrows, slowly approaching you once again. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on his pray, but instead of running, you maintained your posture. The one the Dark Slayer taught you. The one from knowing the power of being tied to the blood of Sparda. “Mundus was arrogant to think humans were only meat.”

“Apparently we are unwilling wedding participants too.” You scoffed, making Erlach laugh in response. You had to hide how his reaction took you by surprise: how much did you have to taunt him for that demon lord to finally lose his temper? “I don’t suppose you brought me here only to properly propose to me.”

“Differently from the Spardas, I do believe in taking some things by force.” Erlach’s voice had a delight laced in his words that made you… Slightly uncomfortable. “The ritual is taking place tonight, whether you and your friend agree to it or not. I just wanted to look into your eyes and see what the son of Sparda, the Dark Slayer who had been locked in Hell for decades, saw in you. A bond between a demon and any mortal creature isn’t one to be taken lightly.”

“Well, then you aren’t in luck. I am not married to Vergil, nor do I think he will ever want to be.” Your answer was certain and, to the demon’s surprise, carried no tinge of bitterness. You and Vergil had an agreement regarding your relationship: he would be with you for as long as you would have him, but he would never think of binding you to his fate like his father did to his mother. You had said countless times you didn’t mind and you weren’t afraid, but it wasn’t something Vergil was ready for. And you could respect that. “Our bond is not what you think it is.”

“Oh, it is exactly what I think it is.” Erlach’s words carried a truth you feared you weren’t able to see at the moment – as if he knew something you didn’t. You had to control your feelings not to furrow your brows and allow him to see your confusion, hiding it under your unbothered and strong demeanor – like whatever words he said could never affect you. “It isn’t a ceremonial bond, but one of souls. The heart does not lie, my exquisite guest, and the Spardas seem to be haunted by their father’s heartful curse.” His fingers grasped an old piece of paper in one of the desks by your side; Erlach’s indifferent eyes analyzed its contents while he spoke. “I will never understand why Sparda decided not to follow our rituals. He could’ve been great; Greater than Mundus himself. But he chose to diminish and turn himself as human as he could be… and look at what happened to him and his family. A shame, really.” He tossed aside the paper, and you could see an old picture of Sparda and Eva, falling apart from how old it was. Probably cut out from a book, looking like a painting; a portrait made long ago, before Dante and Vergil were even born. “Our marriage is called a binding ritual. It requires two souls to connect, and it makes one of them more powerful than one could ever dream of.”

“Hmmm. It requires one to diminish itself and be a powerless servant, then. I can see why Sparda discarded this option.” He would’ve never done such a thing to Eva, and that you had learned from all the stories Vergil told you from his parents. If you had only known the story from the books and popular tales, you would’ve asked yourself the same thing and have the same questions Erlach had – but you did have Sparda’s own son to tell the story. To paint you how his father was warm, stern, yes, but still kind, graceful and loving… To paint him as human. In all his adoration for Eva, he would never think of turning her into a powerless slave to his will. That was not what love was. “You still have much to learn.”

Erlach’s fiery eyes immediately met yours – but they didn’t carry the offense you thought they would. There was something else inside his demonic eyes. Was it… Excitement? Maybe…?

“Oh, little human, you have much to learn then to think some wouldn’t appreciate being slaves to their partner’s will. It is all a matter of pleasure.” His smile, though, immediately made you uncomfortable. If that subject had been mentioned by Vergil, you would definitely answer with a sassy smile and state that, in a matter of fact, you did know about that – and see where that conversation with your devilish partner would get you. But with Erlach…? It sounded more like a warning rather than anything else. Definitely a red flag waving in front of you. “The other soul does get something in return – some very important things in Hell: protection and status. Desecrating the partner of one of the most powerful demons to ever live could easily be a death sentence to whatever demon foolish enough to do so.”

“If that is the case, and I am bonded to Vergil, I wonder how foolish you have to be to willingly kidnap and forcefully wed the partner of the King of Hell.”

You wouldn’t admit it out loud. You wouldn’t even say it in front of Dante and Nero. Whenever the subject decided to appear, you just nodded, agreeing with the others that what Vergil did was horrifying and terribly wrong.

But you couldn’t deny the power trip on the rare occasions you decided to flex Vergil’s King of Hell title.

It had its perks.

“Only foolish if I don’t finish the ritual in time, my little human. I was also careful enough to find myself some leverage.” Erlach immediately waved at the door, referring to Kyrie. You didn’t want to sigh in acknowledgement, but that was enough to at least try to put some halt in Vergil’s murderous rampage. Or to make Nero hold his father on a leash if Vergil just decided to recklessly kill everything on sight. You had some serious concerns those demons heavily understated Vergil’s power. “I had no intentions to let Orcus partake in this ritual but I did need a brute to carry out most of the killing; it would be terribly boring.” With those words, Erlach approached enough to stop right in front of you. At any moment you flinched or decided to walk back, even if everything in your being wanted to put some very good distance between the both of you. Preferably a Vergil of distance. “Therefore, he can bind himself to the weakest of partners. The grandson of Sparda clearly isn’t as attuned to power as Sparda’s spawns.”

“Only a demon would think a human heart is weaker than a devil’s will.” You scoffed in response, raising your head once even higher – in part to be able to look at Erlach directly in his eyes. Vergil’s gaze could cut like the sharpest of ice, and you had seen those silvery eyes in their worst. Erlach’s gaze was nothing compared to the Dark Slayer. “Maybe that was the source of Sparda’s power, have you ever thought of that?”

You would never throw a demon lord like Erlach at Kyrie, but you were quite certain he wouldn’t appreciate the truth to your words and would never turn to the crew’s little angel as the most powerful of partners. Demons could be quite predictable in your book.

“Hmmm. Maybe humans measure their status through empathy, but in Hell…” Erlach’s eyes leveled with yours, his head bowing to be able to share his gaze with you – and, instead of fear, he found something else… Something closer to pride. You were the counterpart of the King of Hell after all, weren’t you? You would never bow your head and lose your crown, Erlach was beginning to understand that. And appreciate that. “We measure through power. And you carry quite the power within you, dearest human. Vergil, the Son of Sparda, wouldn’t accept any less with all the titles he carries. He is part demon, after all.”

That was some food for thought that had never crossed your mind before. Yes, Vergil was partly human, but without a doubt, it was Dante who got most of Eva’s heart. Vergil always took pride in his demonic heritage and power, and always found solace in that – he slowly came to terms with his own humanity and learned to appreciate the human heart, but the thirst for power ran deep in his demonic veins. He did see something in you more than your human empathy… Or else, his devil would never consider bowing to you.

“Hmmm. If all you search is power then, you can always betray Orcus and perform the ritual only for yourself.” You had a spark of sharp intelligence in your eyes, making Erlach widen his smile as the words poured from your lips. “Surely a creature like you wouldn’t mind some backstabbing and murder to keep all the power to yourself.”

“Oh, my sweet temptation, I have to say, I love the way you think…!” Now his voice had a trail of smoldering lust that not even you could deny it was there. Yes, you were trying to manipulate the demon into killing Orcus and leaving only one demon lord for you to deal with – which would make your life quite easy – and probably releasing Kyrie while at it. But you never expected your little game to backfire so gloriously: perhaps Vergil was right when he said you still had a thing or two to learn about his kind. “And I know what you are trying to do – very exciting. A battle of wits and manipulation with a devil, you are truly fearless.” You didn’t think Erlach couldn’t approach you even more, but there he was, towering over you in a way you could almost feel his hot breath on your face. Even if you wanted to void-teleport Vergil right between you at that very moment, you wouldn’t back down – it wasn’t in you. “When all this started, I thought only to bond with a powerful creature of human blood – now… You have proven to be spellbounding, sweet sweet creature. I see what Vergil saw in you: all the cleverness, might, strength, wits; all that fire.” With those words, Erlach offered you his hand, with those fiery eyes staring inside your soul. “I will take you as my partner, but you can do it willingly. I will give you protection and you will be royalty in Hellish realms. You will rule by my side: everything we want is ours for the taking, and anything you ask, I will give you. Kingdoms, realms, worlds. Every living creature that has ever taken a breath will bow to us – the world is mine and yours to rule… You just have to say yes.”

Erlach’s words took you by surprise – your head spun and you thought soon your feet wouldn’t know how to keep you stable on the floor. Your plans backfiring was a serious understatement. You never gave Erlach a reason to like you: on the contraire, you only gave him reasons to be extremely annoyed and suspicious of any and all of your actions. He had no hidden agendas in his words, as far as you could see, and it was extremely obvious what was going on.

You just didn’t expect that to happen, out of all the outcomes of that night.

“Why would I do that when I am already royalty?” Your answer, though, came back with the icy stare you learned from your beloved blue devil, crossing your arms once more and raising your head high just like he used to do. It wasn’t something you did consciously – with time, people develop some mannerisms of their loved ones, and you were no different.

You just got Vergil’s arrogance – and you were more than ready to pay for your tongue. That little game between you and Erlach had already gone too far: you had spotted a few things in the room you could use as a weapon and you were ready to go feral if he attacked you because of your insolence.

You were disarmed, though, when Erlach started laughing – a laugh of pure delight.

“I will have to steal, then. Just like Paris did to Helen of Troy.”

“But remember: an entire kingdom burned just so that King Menelaus could have Helen of Sparta back.”

“Indeed, Beautiful Helen. I shall keep that in mind.” With those words, Erlach’s rough hands took one of yours by force and placed a sharp kiss on your soft skin – that seemed to burn like a lingering fire even after you were teleported back to your improvised cell.

You had to sit down. You had to sit down. That night was already becoming quite the ride – and you thought your Halloween nights couldn’t be even wilder than the ones you had already had so far. But there you were, proven wrong, by a demon lord with a crazy ancient ritual that required a demonic marriage. You were flabbergasted, shocked, breathless… And a little scared.

Vergil had always warned you not to play with demons – especially with those who were witty enough to answer at your level. You always thought he warned you so you could dodge being fooled and trapped into a deal you never saw coming in the first place – he never told you one of those creatures could develop feelings towards you.

“Y/n? Are you ok?!” Kyrie rushed towards you, sitting by your side on that bench you were before, checking your temperature. You were still staring at some lost point on the ground, clearly questioning your life choices so far. “Y/n! Did he hurt you?! What happened?!”

“I think one of the most absurd things just happened in this lifetime…” You murmured, finally staring back at her with a concerned look – but somewhat empty eyes. Kyrie just had her eyebrows furrowed, because if something worried you then she should be even more worried. “I think a demon lord just fell in love with me.”

“Ooooh, no…” The dread in Kyrie’s voice could be understood by even the most clueless of creatures. She closed her eyes, already foreseeing chaos and destruction. “Vergil is going to go on a rampage.”

Yes. And, honestly, you weren’t looking forward to that.

“I know we are in a hurry…!” Lady was leaning out the open door of the Devil May Cry van while Nico drove furiously right behind Dante’s trail. Screaming at the red devil while on the road wasn’t an easy – nor safe – task, but honestly, Lady had done worse. “But what are you trying to do, cowboy?! Not miss the train?!”

Dante immediately slowed down slightly, just so he could be side by side with the devil hunter he knew since his teen years. Looking up at her, Dante didn’t even have to watch the road to keep on going without running over anything – his demonic insight would make up for that.

“Kinda, Lady.” His answer was a little snarky, even if he didn’t want to. “Hey, kid! How are your instincts with your girl?!”

“Not good, I’ll tell ya that.” Nero growled, almost unable to stand still by Nico’s side. The gunsmith had made a mental note not to bother him through that whole evening: Nero’s fangs were already showing, his eyes had a tinge of gold, and his trigger distortion was already appearing in his voice. If she actually took some time to look at him, she would be able to see claws instead of nails and his hair a little bit longer than usual – almost like they were back in Fortuna. Nico still wasn’t used to half-triggered Nero and she could bet it would take some time. “Kyrie’s heart, she’s anxious. Somethin’s unsettling her. And I don’t like it. At all.”

With those words, Nero finished doing whatever he was doing with Red Queen and his sword clicked back into place, revving up with the engines he had installed long ago.

“If the kid is like that, imagine Vergil.” Dante stated back to Lady and Trish, now leaning by the open door completely unbothered by the speed and the wind. “He’s an idiot, but still, man’s got enough power to level a whole city. He’s an asshat who can control his feelings, alright, but he’s got one hell of a trauma and a thing for protecting. His partner is gone. He’s on a bloodlust rampage, trust me. We gotta get to this place before Vergil, or all hell will break lose.”

“Vergil’s our train. Got it.” Lady immediately turned serious, remembering all the times she had ever seen Vergil fight – and all he could do.

“Nico! Hit the gas pedal! We aren’t gonna get there in time going at this speed.” Trish strutted over the driver’s seat – always keeping an eye on Nero. She knew how half-triggers could be disorienting and dangerous, and she could help in case anything went wrong – after all, she was a full devil and, wanting or not, she could take down Nero in a fight, to some extent, if she ever had to. At least long enough to give Dante time to fight his nephew in a fit of rage.

“Already goin’ as fast as I can, demon lady!” Nico had her cigarette between her teeth and her foot never leaving the gas pedal. Indeed, it was the fastest speed for the van.

“We just gotta give it a spark, then.” With those words, Trish rested one of her hands on the van’s panel, her eyes immediately sparkling with thunderous yellow. Her demonic sparks ran through her body, pooling over her heart and running down her arm, jolting to the van and enveloping it on her signature yellow lighting.

“WOOOOAH!” Nico had to hold her cigarette even tighter, both hands on the wheel as the van seemed to fly on the road. “Are you CRAZY, woman?!”

“Keep your eyes on the road, virtuosa.” And Trish’s own glowing yellow eyes never left the streets. “We’ll make it there on time.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dante couldn’t help but laugh and use part of his own trigger to make Cavaliere go faster, now side by side with the van. “Keep it up, babe!”

They had to make it before Vergil. Dante knew in his heart he was the only one who could speak some logic back to his brother at a moment like that.

“Me and Vergil… We have a thing.”

You and Kyrie were being taken to the main event of the night: the ritual at the center of the derelict cathedral, under the light of the moon and the stars, witnessed by demons and the lost souls on the forgotten cemetery nearby. Barely any stained-glass mosaics were left – but those that were gave the cathedral an eerie tinge of color; like ghosts long gone in a place that was once holy. Your steps echoed on the stony ground, and you could hear the crackling of an enormous bonfire in the distance – as well as see the distorted, tall shadows of the demons taking both of you to your doom.

“I’m not saying it’s a good thing. I’m just saying it’s a thing.” You sighed, making her hazelnut eyes stare at you with interest as you walked proudly in front of her. The demons forced Kyrie to walk and kept shoving her until you made them only escort you to the ritual with just a stare of authority – she had to admit, you and Vergil were very much alike in some departments. “I can… Sense him sometimes. And he can sense me, whenever he wants to. It has to do with the arcane studies and the fact that we are partners.” You remained silent for a few seconds, closing your eyes for a while to take a deep breath before opening them again. “He can feel my distress. He knows when I’m worried, anxious, in danger.”

“Hmmm… Nero can do that too… I wonder if it’s a family thing.” Kyrie whispered back, not wanting the other demons to hear your conversation. You kept as close to her as possible, but still walking in front of her: if anything happened, it had better happen to you first.

“I wonder the same, too.” You answered with a breathy laugh, seeing the beauty of Vergil’s son being so alike him sometimes – and you wondered if Sparda had the same with Eva; with your heart already knowing the answer. “Sometimes, I feel Vergil’s rage too. His despair. His loneliness. His pain.” You went silent for a while, not really wanting to elaborate on that. It was the first time you were talking about that to someone on the crew – the first time you told Vergil, you had no idea what to do with those emotions and to say it was a roller coaster of a night to both of you, was an understatement. “What I feel is only a shadow of what he feels. And when he feels me, there is no force on Earth that will stop him. He will find me and, if need be, obliterate whatever is causing me trouble.”

“Oh.”

Kyrie finally understood why you said that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. When it came to her and Nero, their connection was deep and strong – and she had never seen anything like that before. But, the way you were speaking, it was different with you and Vergil… Maybe even stronger. And, when it came to Vergil, that could be for good or for bad.

You had to wonder how it was with Eva and Sparda. He was a demon, after all, and she was human. If Vergil was already that protective towards you, and that ruthless when it came to his enemies, you could see Sparda destroying entire countries for the woman he loved – being a harbinger of nothing but death, ruin and despair, only to have her feeling safe in his arms once again.

The fall of the city of Troy never made so much sense to you before that moment. Even if in the original story Helen’s heart was taken by Paris, still, Menelaus burned, killed, maimed and destroyed everything in his way just so she could be Helen of Sparta again… You could see Vergil and his father doing the same – but, in yours and Eva’s case, you would be longing to be back into their arms once more.

“Vergil is coming. And he is not in his best shape, emotionally speaking.” You whispered back to Kyrie so she could understand the extent of the situation you were in. “What I just felt, I could kill one of these demons with my bare hands. When Vergil’s here, he will do his best not to hurt you, but he is focused in one thing only so… Get out of his way. And I’m not trying to be rude…”

“I understand.” Kyrie whispered back, carefully noticing the demons eyeing each other. She knew you weren’t really giving her a warning, you were playing a little game: planting seeds of terror and discord so they would tear each other apart from the inside just from being afraid of Vergil. It was a clever move and Kyrie would’ve praised you if she had the chance. “I’ve already seen Nero almost go on a rampage. It really isn’t nice. I hope he doesn’t try to join his father, or there will not be a single rock left standing in this cathedral soon enough.”

She decided to play your game, noticing a slight smile of approval on the corner of your lips. All of you hunters always had smart strategies to deal with the demons you did on a daily basis, but, when you were completely stripped of your weapons just like on that moment, you had to resort to other ways of fighting.

Your scheming had to be put to a halt for a while when you approached the decaying wooden doors that opened your path down the church’s aisle – a moth eaten dark red carpet, now almost black from dirt and time, painting the path you should follow; until you would stand side by side with the devil who kidnapped you, now waiting for your presence by a tall bonfire at the center of the cathedral, illuminating an altar right behind Erlach.

Things suddenly seemed even more serious now and your heart sunk in your chest. As you started to walk down the aisle, the demons watching that hellish ceremony chanted and hit their weapons or claws rhythmically on the stony floor. Kyrie was held by one of the demons who guided you towards the aisle, outside of that madness, but soon to go in after your ritual came to an end – after you got married.

A few seconds after your heart seemed to have sunken on the floor, you felt a rage bubbling inside your chest, threatening to come out of your mouth with an earth shattering scream; running through your body like a violent bolt of lightning, resting on your hands that immediately closed to fists as you raised your head high: for a split second, if you saw anything that could be used as a weapon to cut Erlach’s head off its neck, you would’ve taken it and plunged in like a furious beast.

That lightning, though, dissipated as fast as it ran through your body. You didn’t lose your posture and kept walking with certain, hard steps towards your fate – but that blind bloody rage was gone.

It was Vergil.

You knew it was him. It was right after you had that desperate, desolating feeling of not knowing what to do, of watching that harrowing scene right in front of you and not knowing how to get out… Of feeling trapped like a little mouse on a cage. You felt some of Vergil’s emotions in a very fleeting manner – in a bolt of lightning – but he could feel yours more certainly and longingly. That bloodthirst that ran through your body… It was just a fleeting taste of Vergil’s emotional response to knowing how unsafe you felt.

After all he had been through, protection was a big thing for your blue devil. He silently promised nothing would ever happen to his newfound family now that he was strong enough to protect not only himself, but everyone around him. Knowing you were vulnerable, completely exposed, feeling like prey and he wasn’t around to keep you safe… To say Vergil’s demonic blood was boiling was a great understatement.

“Come, brilliant creature among humans. Midnight is close, and the ritual must be completed.” Erlach offered you his rough, devilish hand so you could take and approach the altar with him – a stone containing a couple of candles and an old golden bow, marked by ancient, dry blood.

You stopped right where you were, not taking his hand, but still staring into his eyes. You were thinking of words of defiance, of improvised weapons, of anything you could do to get you and Kyrie out of there. If you had to fight that demon with hands and teeth, so be it, but you wouldn’t back down – and if it was for you to die, you would die fighting.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a roaring thunder rumbling through the pitch-black skies right above your heads. You couldn’t see any clouds and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain earlier that day, but that ominous thunder roared once more – with a flash of a lightning in the distance cracking down from the sky suddenly illuminating your face as you opened a broad smile. Erlach only eyed you with confusion, taken aback by the sudden prelude of rain.

“A storm is approaching.” Your somber voice did not match the smile across your lips and Erlach’s eyes filled with understanding – even if he himself didn’t think that was possible for only a half-demon like the Dark Slayer. “You have yet time to give up this foolishness before he arrives.”

“I am not scared by a little thunder, human. You shall learn that in time.” The demon decided to ignore the warning on your voice, taking your hand with a little too much strength, already guiding you to the altar.

But you heard whispers – among the other demons, yours and Kyrie's words were being replicated, some of them resting silent while others laughed. With your ominous warning over a simple storm, though, they started to wander… To fear. Was that something done by your lover? Was that the extent of Sparda’s power? The Dark Slayer, the one who escaped from Hell and from his imprisonment by none other than Mundus, was that powerful…? They didn’t know. And some of them, didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, you will learn to be scared.” You whispered, back, slowly going up the few steps that kept you and Erlach far from each other. He conducted you with an iron grip, while the only thing you had in mind was to buy Vergil more time to get to you. “As all of you do.”

“Not if I get the ritual done first.” With those harsh words, Erlach gripped your arm in a way you couldn’t escape, even if his gestures were a lot more flourished than brute. You saw a ritualistic dagger in his other hand and you knew what the next step would be. “Then he shall learn a thing or two about fear.”

His hands moved so fast you didn’t have time to quip back – even if you wanted to answer that, after all Vergil had been through, making him feel fear was quite the achievement. Very few things could frighten his heart and soul… And you were oblivious enough to point out that, Vergil’s protective and enraged response that day was not only out of love, but out of fear of losing you.

Before Erlach could resume cutting your hand to harvest your blood for the bonding ritual, you managed to pierce his arm with a white summoned sword. With that surprise, Erlach dropped the weapon and you took it in your hand – twisting it and approaching him enough to press it against his neck, already making him bleed. You just didn’t manage to kill him because his survival reflexes made him snap our of his surprise and hold your hand against his neck, struggling with you in order to see who would win: you, by taking his life, or him, by taking you as his.

“My King of Hell isn’t the only one who should be feared, demon. You will learn that with time.” Your voice was low and filled with pride, hearing as the other demons immediately started whispering to each other: Orcus and Erlach probably didn’t tell them all the titles your lover carried.

As if to support you, another thunder roared in the skies and a lightning cracked near the desecrated cathedral. Some demons seemed to gasp and become startled, expecting Vergil to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

A few drops of water started to fall on your hair, your face, and run down your hands… And between your lips as you smiled.

“You are indeed a rare one.” But, to your surprise, Erlach smiled back. His sharp nails buried in the skin of your arm holding the knife, making you relax your grip ever so slightly as blood started to run from the wounds he inflicted. “Blood is blood. No matter how I attain it. Alas, I wanted our bonding to be beautiful, but this will do.”

With your blood running down his claws, Erlach grasped the blade on his neck, cutting his own hand even if you didn’t let the dagger go. Reaching out for the golden bowl, you once again tried to stab his neck, but the demon finally let go of your other arm only to hold your hand back. As you both struggled, you did your best to keep his hand away from the bowl, with Erlach already muttering some words in a language long lost to your human ears.

It was your blood already mixed with his. Whatever you did, he couldn’t reach that bowl for anything in this world.

You didn’t notice when the rain became stronger. You didn’t notice when Orcus moved Kyrie away from the door. You didn’t notice when the thunders seemed to roar inside the earth beneath your feet. All your strength was concentrated in keeping Erlach away from the altar, and all his strength was focused on completing the ritual on time.

“Before me all things create were none, save things Eternal, and Eternal I shall endure.*” Oh, you would recognize that voice even if you were dead. The words creeped through the stone walls of the cathedral, accompanied by calm, calculated steps approaching with resolve. The demons’ attentions turned to the rotten door, as well as yours and Erlach’s eyes, finally stopping to struggle. Vergil’s silhouette finally made itself visible, as if he was taken by a cold blue aura in the darkness – his silvery eyes set on you and your foe, one of his hands grasping the hilt of the Yamato as the other kept the sword safe at his side. “Per aspera, ad Inferi.”

There was a change in the air. Your very breath seemed to warp around you as time became slurred and thick. For a few moments it was difficult to breathe, as the storm outside that desecrated place looked like it would start bleeding inside the cathedral. You stumbled back, closer to the altar, dragging Erlach with you – you knew what was coming. Some demons tried to run, others froze in place, while some got ready to fight.

You could see how that cold, fiery blue started to cut the air – a split second before Vergil disappeared and all you could hear was the sound of the Yamato slicing everything in sight. Time stopped for a while, your breath disappeared from your lungs, your heart didn’t beat. You held yourself together as strongly as you could, while Erlach stared at that view with a pair of impressed – or maybe even fearful – eyes.

Vergil appeared once more, now standing a few meters away from you – all he had to do was climb the steps to finally reach you. Placing Yamato in its sheath, Vergil took a few long seconds to get the shiny blade to slide down and, with a click, make most of the demons – and whatever decoration that was left standing – fall apart in piles of flesh and blood.

You didn’t want to say you had warned them, but well… You had warned them.

“You’re too late, Dark Slayer.” With those words, Erlach reached the bowl – now even closer than before, since you dragged him back not to be so close to a judgement cut of that magnitude. His words were like a bell, waking you up to the reality that a single drip of your mixed blood in the gold, and it would all be over.

But Vergil unsheathed Yamato once again, as fast as he moved down the aisle to reach you, and the golden bowl was cut in half – cracking in some places, gold dust spilling at your feet.

“You should learn, demon, some things can never be taken by force.” Vergil’s voice was like a velvety murmur in the dark – and you knew, the quieter he grew, the more time he had to marinate his anger. “Love, is one of them. Respect, is another.”

Those silvery eyes finally landed on yours, as a faint smile spread across your lips. Love would be nothing without respect, and Vergil argued that earning your respect was one of the most honorable things you could have graced him with – not that the love was not of importance, but if you had never come to respect him, the love you shared would have never flourished… And the reciprocate was true.

“Well, well, looks like we’ve arrived in time.” You heard Dante sighing by the door, guns already on his hands. “Big bad demon is all yours, Verge. We’ll handle things back here.”

“Kyrie!” And you barely saw Nero as he ran towards Orcus with all the rage of the world in his eyes, slicing demons in the way with a revved up Red Queen and leaving a trail of fire behind him. Sometimes he was a lot like his own father, but other times, his uncle's heritage shined through.

Vergil didn’t even look back at the crew already killing the demons who fought and who tried to run away – he only had eyes for you and the filthy creature holding you in its arms.

“Last time I saw you, my whips cracked on that soft skin of yours, spawn of Sparda.” And for the first time that night, you heard some more emotion on Erlach’s voice – something close to hate. Maybe he wasn’t as controlled as he said he was… Maybe he was prone to violence after all. “You tried your best to hold back your tears as your filthy blood tainted the floors of Hell. But everything cracks, eventually.”

A jolt of pain burned across your skin on your back as if you were naked, as fast as a bolt of lightning. You couldn’t help but to wince at the feeling, even if Vergil and Erlach remained immobile. In a fraction of a second, you understood a little of that pain, of a memory in the back of Vergil’s head that came back like a kick in the stomach, and it seemed not to affect him at all – but you knew, you could feel what he didn’t show.

The pain was fleeting, but the anger wasn’t – that was yours and yours only. As you suddenly flinched, you took advantage of that moment of surprise to move your arms once again and the strength of your boiling anger to slash Erlach as you could, eager to take a piece of him… Eager to kill him after the suffering he put your lover through.

“Everything cracks indeed.” You murmured as he took one of his hands to his face, noticing the considerable gash you opened on his cracked skin – now pouring blood profusely. “Next, I will cut your tongue.”

You heard a quick chuckle from Vergil, silvery eyes observing you with so much pride – and a little of something else. Pride was always easy to see in him: the way he carried himself, the way he posed with his head high, the way his eyes admired that which he respected and loved… But care was a different thing. If you were looking at your lover, it would take you some time to notice, but his admiration for you was never ending behind his pride to be able to call you his.

“I do understand how you came to love this human, that I will admit.” Erlach hissed back at Vergil, licking his own blood from his fingers. Risking a glance at the cathedral, the demon assessed the situation: the bowl was broken, the demons were all but destroyed, fleeing from the weapons of Dante, Lady and Trish, Nero had Kyrie back in his arms and Orcus was nowhere to be seen. “I truly underestimated the depth of your feelings for such a fragile creature.”

“Eloquent words, but no wisdom behind them.” Vergil’s response was prideful as always, as he walked the small set of steps to reach you – and probably slice Erlach apart. “Fragile is far from what I would use to describe y/n. I will burn bridges, destroy cities, crush entire empires to protect those whom I love and respect. There is nothing of fragile in that.” Pointing Yamato at Erlach, the blade almost touched the wound you inflicted in the demon’s neck. “You should remember that as I kill you for this insolence, pitiful scum.”

His stern eyes glinted with a tint of blue, as Vergil’s teeth were already sharp in fangs. His hands around the Yamato already started to resemble claws and his voice, even if you would love it in all of its iterations, had that distinct demonic distortion. His blue fire engulfed him like a faint shadow, but it did make your lover look even taller than he already was. On the brink of his humanity, it would take only a spark to make him burst into his demonic form.

“King of Hell.” You mouthed at Erlach while pointing at Vergil right in front of you, as if to prove a point – the point you wanted to prove from the beginning: no matter what those demons did, Vergil was stronger and more powerful than all of them together.

And, of course, you could use another rush of power whenever you flexed that title. You just hoped no one else in the crew would see it: you’d be in for some harsh judgement if they did.

“I shall remember for the next time we meet, son of Sparda.” Erlach turned his fiery eyes to you. “And I shall see you again, brilliant Helen.”

With those words, the demon used its own blood for an incantation to flee a battle he would definitely lose – a smart move, even if you didn’t know where he went… And if that ominous warning was not something you would have wanted to hear. You would prefer to see him dead.

“Hmmm… Bold of this creature to assume it could steal your love like foolish Paris.” Vergil had to murmur under his breath, immediately turning around to face you, Yamato quickly back on its sheath. Before you could say anything, Vergil took your hand in his with a surprising gentle touch, only so he could analyze the bloody scratches on your arm – as well as allow his silver eyes to burn with wrath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, that’s the only wound. You don’t need to worry, Vergil.” Your answer, though, made his eyes fly to look into yours as if you had said one of the most jarring things he had ever heard.

“I will always worry about you. You know that.”

He didn’t have to say, you could feel it. You had felt his worrying ever since he had learned it was Erlach who kidnapped you and wanted to complete that mad bonding ritual. Vergil’s worry was in his fear of losing whatever love he managed to have in that godforsaken life of his, and that usually manifested in an unparalleled anger in him. All that wrath… It was one of the highest praises you could ever get from your lover.

Placing both of your hands to cradle his face, you didn’t allow Vergil to keep on speaking as you pressed your lips against his. It was one of the most effective ways you could rest that flame inside his heart and bring him some peace – the same way the droplets of rain seemed to want to wash away all the blood and fury of that night. It took him a couple of seconds to start melting under your touch, arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you closer to his body, as your kiss quieted the fear that burned inside his heart.

You parted from his lips, even if Vergil himself didn’t seem to want to do so. His breathing, though, was already going back to a normal pace and you couldn’t feel his fangs under your lips anymore. As those silvery eyes stared back at you, the blue tinges were gradually gone. You took your hands to his hair, taking the rebellious strands that were already falling on his vision and brushing them back into his usual hairstyle – and Vergil even allowed himself to thank you with a soft smile.

“I cannot help but wonder, though…” He finally murmured, voice back to his dark tone with no traces of his demonic side showing up. “What, in the name of the gods, you are wearing.”

“Apparently, this hideous thing is what demons consider a wedding attire.” You sighed back, still in his embrace. You refused to look down and see yourself in that ridiculous thing again. “I wanted to get rid of it, but alas, the other option was to be completely naked.”

“Hmmm…” You didn’t know if Vergil hummed or growled, but you did know he was quite unpleased by that sight – almost as much as you. Taking your hand, Vergil guided you around the enormous bonfire behind the altar, in a place the crew couldn’t see you. “Don’t move.”

Before you could even ask what he had in mind, the air around you warped and your clothes fell on the ground after a quick and clean judgment cut.

That was a way to solve things, but…

“My clothes…”

Vergil immediately took off his coat, wrapping it around you and keeping you close, helping you dress it and hold it closed in front of you. It was a lot bigger than your form, and definitely a heavy piece of clothing, but it smelled like him – and that was one of the things that could always calm the distress in your heart.

“We will find your clothes. But you cannot walk around dressed like a clown.” With you still in his arms, Vergil placed a rather long kiss on your forehead, catching you by surprise.

A nice surprise that made you smile.

“On that, I agree with you. If we were ever to get married, I would have never worn such a thing.” You whispered back, making him chuckle while staring into your eyes again. Sometimes, the ice in his silver stare seemed to melt for a while, just like at that moment.

“You would be a beautiful sight to see.” His answer was also a whisper, and a rather unexpected one: that was something you never expected Vergil to say. He often mentioned how Sparda marrying Eva was a blessing to him and a curse to her, even if you insisted on arguing that probably wasn’t true; but you would never expect Vergil, of all people, would have imagined you on a wedding day… With him.

“Hey! Are you both makin’ out behind that bonfire? C’mon, it’s not time for that, Verge! Did mom never teach you to have manners?”

Dante’s voice interrupted whatever you could say in response, as Vergil already started to growl in annoyance at what his twin brother was implying. You headed back to the crew, twins ready to start bickering once again, as always. You saw Kyrie wearing Nero’s coat and couldn’t help but giggle – like father like son.

You sighed, finding Vergil’s fingers and entangling his between yours – his touch reciprocating immediately. It was time to go home.

“Your fingers are cold.”

Vergil held your hands close to him as you waited for the crew to drive back to the shop. Nico was smoking behind the wheel and you took some time to rest as everyone tried to find what the demons stole from you and Kyrie as well as where they found out about that binding ritual – or demonic marriage, as you began to enjoy calling it.

Your lover couldn’t stay away from you for too long, though. He came back after a little while, not wanting to admit he was too worried to leave you alone for more then a couple of minutes – even if you were with Nico.

He would argue if something bad happened, you would be the one doing the saving while Nico would be screaming around and trying to run demons over… And you couldn’t really disagree with him on that.

“Well, it’s part of my human condition.” You smiled back as Vergil had his mouth close to your hands, trying to warm them up with his breath. On the other hand, there was your blue devil, arms completely naked under his leather vest, oblivious to the weather. “I can’t keep myself warm while naked under a snowstorm like some.”

“Well, I cannot either.” Even if his eyes were a little harsh upon looking at you, there was also some amusement hidden underneath the ice. “Although I would survive enough to get you to safety.”

Vergil’s eyes went back to your hands while you kept on observing how he occupied himself with the task of warming you. His lips were close enough so you could feel them ghosting over your fingers, but never touching your skin. His rough hands cradled yours with a touch so gentle one would never expect from the likes of him. Everything about Vergil screamed danger, but when it came to you, it was completely opposite.

“I wished so bad you would find me.” You finally whispered, keeping your eyes close. Feelings weren’t easy for the both of you; somehow, you found that closing your eyes while being around only him was easier to allow your heart to open – and there were times Vergil did the very same thing when talking to you. “I… I did my best not to seem frightened. Kyrie needed me to stay strong, the demons couldn’t know and have the upper hand. But I was scared. I was lost. And I wished, deep inside my heart, you’d somehow find me in the darkness.”

“I know.” His answer was quiet, hands still wrapped around yours. You could feel Vergil’s breath as he spoke, slowly opening your eyes to find his looking back at your once again. “I know. No matter where you are, I will always find you.”

For a few seconds, the air lacked in your lungs and the words in your mouth. If you weren’t alone, you would’ve fought the tears that marinated your eyes, even if you didn’t want them to fall – they would rest there, making it seem like you were observing Vergil with a whole universe in yourself, just for him. And he would always appreciate that.

“As soon as I felt your rage, I knew you were coming.” You confided back, making him furrow his brows for a while. “I happen to be pretty good at energy work, Vergil. Remember sometimes I get to feel you back? I did today. And that’s when I knew I was safe.”

The last pieces of the puzzle arranged themselves in Vergil’s head: of course, when he got the strongest emotions from you, it was easier for you to get his. But when his emotions were too strong, that connection could work as well, for better or for worse – and he remembered how you flinched in the cathedral when Erlach mentioned how he tortured Vergil… When he was taken aback for a few moments suddenly feeling that pain he tried so hard to forget.

It was a shame you had to feel that too – his eyes went down to your hands while his eyebrows furrowed now from annoyance rather than confusion.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered back, placing your fingers under his chin and making Vergil look back into your eyes. “I’m here for the good, the bad and the ugly – no matter how harrowing it gets. You can always rely on me, as I know I can always rely on you.”

“As long as time will have us be together.”

Vergil’s murmured response was crowned with a gentle kiss on your hands, making you smile softly in return. You knew he was still annoyed with the fact you felt the worst of his emotions, but at least you were safe – and, for now, he would have to settle for that. You just hoped one day Vergil understood you didn’t see those terrible things that happened to him as a flaw, but as something he didn’t have to carry quietly on his own.

It just made you respect him even more than you already did.

“You don’t realize what you are, do you…?” Your question was a little absent as you kept on observing his stern face, with those silvery eyes now staring at you in confusion and distress: his heart beating a little faster, concluding you finally came to your senses that you had decided to give your love to a devil. “You deem yourself as one of the cruelest and worst creatures to ever walk the earth, but you don’t realize… Demons don’t protect their loved ones like you did today.”

To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making Vergil instinctively hold your waist so you wouldn’t lose your balance. All the while, you never allowed those vulnerable silver eyes to leave yours.

“Angels do.”

As you placed your lips on his, Vergil’s embrace held you tightly against him – and even after you parted, he remained holding you, his head hidden in your shoulders and your hair. Vergil was silent and didn’t make a single noise, but you could feel the tears leaking into your mouth during the kiss and later dropping on your neck.

His heart could take a lot of harshness and cruelty, pain and torture, without even flinching. But this time… It was the first time in his life that Vergil was seen as good.

And his heart wasn’t used to that.

----

*Inferno, by Dante Allighieri

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may halloween #SO MUCH HAPPENING ON THIS #but for some reason I remembered when I was playing DMC4 with Vergil for the first time #having the hero music blasting on the back with Vergil saving the day #I found myself almost crying thinking 'this man hasn't had a DAY of rest in his life and probably was NEVER seen as good or as a hero'#and made me think how MUCH Vergil needs that #he needs to hear he's an angel sometimes #that would DESTROY this man #being tortured? fine #dragging his dying body out of hell? been there done that #having his lover tell him he's good? man is a crying mess on the floor not knowing what to do with this thing inside his chest #(it's called heart silly)

54 notes · View notes

dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 months

Note

Could you write fluff for Kishibe where the reader forces him to bake with her? (AFAB reader if possible, please)!

Baking With Kishibe

A/n: since Christmas is approaching, I thought I should make it a little more Christmasy so there you go, hopefully you will like this. Also, I never thought there would be people actually requesting Kishibe when I started writing for him which makes me extremely happy

Pairing: Kishibe x afab!reader

Warnings: absolutely none

It had taken a lot of convincing for Kishibe to actually put some of his worries aside and indulge in the Christmas spirit. He had helped you with the tree you had set in the living room of your apartment, placing some balls here and there and lifting you up to place the star on top in the end.

But this was as far as he was willing to go. It wasn't that he didn't like Christmas. It was that he had forgotten how to celebrate it after all those years in his line of work.

"Please, I am begging you." You poked his scarred cheek which was a bad decision since there was a 99,9% chance that he would refuse once again.

"No."

"It's just cookies Kishibe." You sighed, falling back on the bed. He reached his hand to cover you with the warm blanket. It was unusual that he had a day off but it was heavily snowing so there wasn't much he could do. "Though I would appreciate your help in the gingerbread house."

"Absolutely not."

Long story short, he had no idea how he had ended up in your kitchen, wearing a red apron over his grey sweatpants and white shirt. Actually he had a vague idea; he would do anything for you. Anything to keep you happy and make you forget about the sorrow and pain of the devil-filled world the two of you lived in. If that meant that he had to bake cookies while wearing a Santa Claus hat then so be it.

He was lucky and glad that Power, Denji and Aki weren't there to see him.

"Now you're supposed to crack the eggs." His blank eyes travelled to you, raising his brows slightly at how good your ass looked when you were bent over the counter, reading the recipe. But eh quickly looked away and focused on the bowl in front of him.

"Am I?" He said, almost indifferently but he was secretly enjoying it. He hadn't felt so safe and happy in a place in a long time. "Let's make a deal, I'll crack the eggs if you let me remove that stupid hat."

"I'll do the eggs then." You moved in front of him, completely ignoring his protests.

Yet Kishibe didn't let you. Letting out a sigh which stemmed from the fact that he was standing for so long and not from his frustration like he wanted it to be, he picked up an egg and cracked it in the bowl.

"There you go." You reached up to pat his head. "See? This is so fun! Don't you love baking?"

Oh he knew you were doing it on purpose. He knew you were secretly taking pictures of him in this ridiculous outfit but he didn't care. If it meant that it would put a smile on your lovely face then he would gladly dress as an elf and dance around the fireplace for you.

"No."

But he did. He did because he was in your apartment, with you, safe and away from his daily life as a devil hunter. He wasn't Kishibe from Special Division 1. He was just Kishibe. A grumpy aspiring baker who would most probably have to clean the kitchen up since you always fell asleep after eating. Your Kishibe.

#kishibe x reader #kishibe chainsaw man x reader #kishibe csm x reader #kishibe #kishibe csm #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe chainsaw man fluff #kishibe x reader fluff #csm kishibe #csm kishibe x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #csm #csm x reader #anime and manga #writing #anime #manga

85 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

Text

A Dead Man & his Raven

Chapter 2

Note: happy spooky season! this fic is inspired by The Crow, Sihtric being based on Eric Draven. Follow up to Chapter 1. Several quotes from the movie and comic are used in the following chapters, they are marked bold, as they are not my own. I was often interrupted while proof reading this chapter, so ignore any errors :)

Warning for entire series: 18+! angst/fluff. this story deals with death, losing a loved one, depression, suicidal thoughts/attempts (no details), murder (described), violence. There is also a lot of fluff, but you have been warned.

Warnings for this chapter: angst/fluff. mention of death, murder, fright, drugs, blood.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You were reminded of your first kiss with Sihtric.

wordcount: 4,3k

Masterlist

'I promise you're safe with me.'

The dead don't carry keys, Sihtric thought as he searched his pockets, but they fucking should.

He snickered at his own thoughts after he had finally stumbled his way home, where he realised he couldn't get in. He looked down at his hands, finding them completely healed again. No more blood, no more cuts. And he scoffed, then looked up at the sky.

You gave me the ability to heal from my wounds but you forgot to give me a key to my home? Nice one, Odin. Now what?

He looked around the empty street, the only movement being water that ran down into the sewer, and then he looked back at the front door.

I could ring the bell, Sihtric thought, and a grin appeared. Ding-dong! Hello, angel, your murdered fiancé is home again! Did you miss me? His grin fell off his face slowly, for hurt and despair to take over. Because I have missed you, my love. He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply as he recalled your face. I have missed you with every fibre of my entire being. If I wasn't already dead, I would have killed myself single-handedly over and over again, because living without you is unbearable. He angrily kicked at the door. Don't worry, love, I can't die twice I've been told. But I swear I will kill every single fucking bastard who did this to us. He kicked the door again. I will kill every last man who broke us up, before we could even vow to not let death do us part. They're dead, my love. They're all dead. They just don't know it yet. He kicked the door again, harder this time, as his tears fell down with the rain.

'They're all fucking dead!' Sihtric growled, and kicked the door open with force.

The neverending nightmare.

More or less recovered from your breakdown after work, you managed to continue your drive home. You ran up to your front door, through the pouring rain, and when you wanted to stick your key in the door, you saw it had been breached open. You looked around you, but there was not a sight of anyone nearby. The street may be empty, you thought, but it was still Devil's Night. The night on which people commit petty crimes as well as serious crimes, such as murdering your fiancé last year, because the cops can't be everywhere at once. Therefore, you also knew that calling the police would not be of any help right now. A simple house robbery was not of importance on a night like this.

With trembling hands you pushed the door further open and you quietly stepped inside. You waited in the dark hallway for a minute, but didn't hear a single sound, apart from the violent rain outside. You walked down the hallway and, before reaching the door to the living room, you carefully took an umbrella from underneath the coat rack. Armed with your pathetic weapon of choice, you then kicked the second door completely open with force.

'If anyone is here I swear I will bash your fucking head in!' you shouted, holding the umbrella tightly in your shaky hands.

While breathing heavily, you once again waited for any kind of sound or movement as you looked around the pitch black room. And again, apart from the rain, it was quiet and there was no movement. Until a sudden voice scared you half to death.

'You would bash my fucking head in with that umbrella, my angel?' the voice said, and a soft chuckle followed, 'an angel of death you would truly be.'

Your heart skipped numerous beats at the familiar voice; your favourite voice, which sound you had missed so desperately. The umbrella fell out of your hands and you immediately turned to switch on the lights, only to stare into a cold, empty room.

'What the fuck!' you breathed, eyes wide.

You exhaled sharply after a few long secons and let out a laugh, which turned into a sob as you realised you had imagined Sihtric's voice. You already were afraid you would start imagining and hearing things around the first anniversary date of his death, but this had seemed so real. It truly scared you and made you even more upset than you already had been. You kicked at the umbrella in front of you and, when you turned back to the hallway, suddenly one cold hand grabbed your chin as the other covered your mouth to silence you.

And you stared up into Sihtric's mismatched eyes.

'Please do not be frightened of me, angel,' Sihtric said fast, but calm, hoping you weren't going to scream. Or punch him in the face.

Your eyes grew even wider, and Sihtric removed his hands after a moment, taking a step back.

'N-no,' you whispered, fear and near insanity laced your voice, and you stumbled backwards into the hallway, landing hard on your behind with a soft cry.

'No,' you then chuckled, 'this isn't real,' you said while crawling backwards.

Your nails scratched at the wooden floor, and your wet shoes squeaked while desperately trying to get away from whatever your imagination was projecting right now.

'Darling,' Sihtric said, and he crouched down, reaching out with his pale, trembling hand.

'No!' you screamed and covered your face with your hands, crying as you shook your head, 'leave me alone! This isn't real! This isn't real!' you shouted, pulling your own hair as you kept your eyes closed, rocking back and forth in the corner of your hallway.

'Shh, shh,' Sihtric hushed you, and cupped your cold, trembling hands with his own, stopping you from trying to tear your hair out.

'Listen to me-'

'No!' you cried out, terrified, backing yourself up further into the corner, but there was no escape from this nightmare blended dream.

'Listen to me!' Sihtric said again, compassionate but firm, 'it's real. I am real,' he slowly pulled your hands away from your face and cupped your cheeks. 'Look at me,' he whispered, 'look at me, please,' and at last, his voice broke under the pressure of his own emotions, 'I need you to look at me, angel,' he said with a sob.

Your body trembled as you slowly opened your eyes, teardrops stuck to your eyelashes, blurring your vision when you finally dared to look at Sihtric, who then sat back, giving you space as you rubbed your eyes free of tears as much as possible.

Sihtric, who was not a figment of your imagination, was actually truly there. Your dead fiancé. He was there. Kneeled down right in front of you, staring at you with his big, teared up eyes as he took in every inch of your face.

'I… I… don't… unders-s-stand,' you nearly panicked.

'I will explain,' Sihtric said, 'but, please… just,' he inhaled sharply as tears started to roll down his cheeks, 'p-please just hold me, please,' his trembling hands reached out to you again, 'I'm so… so cold. I've been so cold without you. I need to- to feel you, please?'

And then, without thinking or having any doubt in your mind, you wrapped your arms around him. You tightly held the man who had your undying love. You breathed in the familiar scent of the man you thought you would never see again. And you both cried as you held each other, down on the floor, hiding in the corner of your hallway, while the wind outside howled and the rain came crashing down.

'Sihtric?' you said with a soft sob.

'Please,' Sihtric whispered, and his cold hands took your face again, 'please, kiss me,' he breathed.

And your lips found those of the man who had taken your heart with him to his grave, after his own heart had stopped beating, exactly one year ago, at the corner of the street you still lived on. And you suddenly remembered your first kiss.

Love at first sight.

Many, many moons ago, you met Sihtric for the first time at your local concert venue. His band, Hangman's Joke, had finished their set about half an hour ago and they already packed up all their gear, which one of their members had loaded in a van before taking off.

It was your first time hearing and seeing the band, but you enjoyed it, and you couldn't deny that the guy who was the lead guitarist as well as the lead singer, was as cute as he was hot. He was dressed in black leather boots, black leather jeans and a black shirt which had tears and holes in it. He was very muscular, and you had to stop yourself from staring the entire time. He was almost ghostly pale, truly nailing the whole gothic look, without even seeming to try. His dark, shoulder length hair was wild, but not in a neglected kind of way. He had a well kept goatee, which told you this guy clearly took care of himself, unlike most so-called underground rockstars you knew of. You definitely enjoyed the amount of eye contact you had with him during his performance, and to your pleasant surprise, you suddenly found him standing next to you. When you looked up, he was already gazing at you, leaning on the bar while he smiled.

'Hey,' he said, with a faint hint of shyness, 'may I buy you a drink?'

You tried to suppress your smile and rolled your eyes as you looked away for a second. Was this going to be a cheap pick up attempt? You weren't easy like that, but he was to die for, really. So you decided to test him.

'That depends. Do you always pick up girls after a show?' you asked, desperately trying to not be intimidated yet intrigued by his strong appearance.

'Oh, all the time,' Sihtric scoffed, clearly pretending to be offended, 'it's a hobby of mine to see how many I can get in my bed in one night.'

'I see,' you feigned being impressed, 'and how many are you expecting to land in your bed tonight?'

'Tonight? Just one,' Sihtric said with a cheeky half smile as he leaned in, 'just you,' he winked.

You couldn't help but laugh and blush at his words. He was obviously unserious about his "hobby", but there was truth in his last answer, you could tell.

'Very smooth,' you chuckled.

'Yeah?' he laughed, 'did I impress you by giving you merely a vague hint about my wild sex adventures after shows?'

'Almost,' you snorted, and couldn't get yourself to look away from his eyes as he smiled so sweetly at you.

There was something so sincere about him, so honest. There was again that hint of shyness in his smile, as the dimly lit venue couldn't quite hide his slightly flushed cheeks, which had reddened after you had smiled at him. He fidgeted with his rings, which told you he was a little nervous, or maybe high on drugs, you thought, but you noticed his pupils were rather normal. You also noticed his eyes were two different colours, and you felt you could easily get lost in those for hours.

'I, eh, I'm Sihtric by the way,' he shyly smiled again and held his hand out to you.

'Hi,' you returned the shy smile as you took his hand and introduced yourself.

His tattooed fingers brushed over yours as he slowly let go, after holding on for just a second too long for it to be meaningless.

'So,' he smacked his lips, 'can I buy you that drink?'

'Perhaps,' you grinned, 'what's the catch?'

Sihtric furrowed his brow and puckered his lips.

'Hm,' he hummed softly as he went over his thoughts, 'the catch is that you'll have to tell me one thing you love about yourself, and one thing you hate about yourself.'

'Oh?' you chuckled, truly impressed this time that a guy for once didn't ask for a kiss or something like that, and you agreed to the deal.

Sihtric bought you a drink and followed you as you found an empty table in the busy venue bar.

'Well then,' Sihtric smiled and took a quick sip from his drink, 'tell me.'

'Okay,' you put your glass on the table and looked at Sihtric, 'I like-'

'No, no,' Sihtric interrupted you, 'I said love, not like. Tell me what you love about yourself.'

You chuckled and sighed softly as Sihtric rested his chin in the palm of his hand, leaning on the table while he sat across from you. The place was packed, but he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room.

'Fine,' you gave him a fake, mean glare, 'what I love about myself is… how loyal I am. Doesn't matter if it's friendships or relationships,' you said, 'I think it's a good trait.'

'It is a great trait,' Sihtric smiled while gazing at you again, 'hard to come by these days.'

'I guess,' you said shyly.

'But now the big question,' Sihtric said as he leaned back, raking his fingers through his hair, 'what do you hate about yourself?'

'Can I only mention one thing?' you grimaced, 'because I got quite the list-'

'Lady,' Sihtric hushed you and chuckled, 'one thing only.'

'Fine,' you huffed and crossed your arms, 'I hate my smile.'

'Your smile?' Sihtric nearly choked on his drink and punched his chest twice as he coughed, 'what are you talking about?'

'I just don't like my smile,' you shrugged, 'for no specific reason.'

'Well, look,' he held his hands up, 'I have to strongly disagree with you here, lady.'

'Okay,' you frowned, 'is this the moment you'll start the heavy flirting, praising me with compliments to lure me into your bed?'

'Actually,' Sihtric said with a grin, leaning in closer over the table, 'my place is a bit of a mess right now. So I kinda hoped I could lure myself into your bed.'

'And what's the catch if I were to agree to that?' you teased, leaning in too.

'The catch being,' Sihtric smiled softly, and he held your chin with his fingertips, 'that you have to promise me you will never believe those negative thoughts about yourself ever again. Because you notice how the thing you love about yourself has nothing to do with your appearance? And the one thing you hate…'

You stared at Sihtric, your cheeks flushed at his touch and his intense eyes locked on you. Then he sat back again, quickly finished his drink and jumped up.

'You want to get out of here?' he asked, smiling, and went to grab his skateboard.

Sihtric held your hand as you walked out of the venue, back to your place. It was pleasantly quiet out, the streets being empty as it was a sunday night. You had the day off tomorrow and the day after, so you had no plans of finding sleep early. The silence between you and Sihtric was a comfortable one, but you were curious about him, and even more curious about the skateboard he held in his other hand.

'You skateboard everywhere?'

'Most of the time, yeah,' he smiled.

'Really?'

'Yes, lady,' Sihtric chuckled, 'why? Do you?'

'No,' you snorted, 'never done it.'

Sihtric stopped walking and stared at you with a puzzled look.

'You never tried it?'

'No,' you shrugged, 'my balance is shit anyway-'

'Wanna try?'

'What?'

'Come,' Sihtric smiled, holding his hand out as he put his board on the ground, 'try it.'

'Oh, absolutely not,' you laughed and looked at the street ahead of you, 'I'll break my neck.'

'No you won't,' Sihtric laughed, 'come,' he beckoned you over.

With heavy feet you stepped closer to the pale, dark clothed man, and you took his hand. Sihtric chuckled when he helped you on the board, holding it in place by setting his leather boot in front of the wheels.

'No, no,' you giggled as you squeezed his hand, already feeling off balance, 'I'm scared to go off this hill.'

'Hill? You can't call this a hill. Don't be scared,' Sihtric smiled and circled his arm around your waist.

Then, he placed one foot on the board and pulled you closer against his body.

'Wait, what are you-'

'Shh,' he smiled, 'I got you.'

'No. What-'

'I promise I got you,' he chuckled at your surprised face, 'trust me. I won't let anything happen to you.'

Before you could say another word, Sihtric placed his other foot next to yours, and the skateboard slowly started to roll forwards, down the really not that steep street, but steep enough to make you cling onto him. And when you realised you truly weren't going to break your neck, you started to laugh at the quite exhilarating feeling. And Sihtric smiled at you whenever he wasn't looking down the road, and he swore he had never seen a more beautiful smile than yours.

'See,' Sihtric said when the skateboard came to a halt at the end of the street, 'told you nothing would happen to you.'

He helped you step off the board, back onto the concrete ground, where he immediately circled his arms around you again and pulled you in.

'I guess you were right,' you chuckled and looked up at him.

'I promise you're safe with me,' Sihtric whispered, 'always.'

He briefly brushed his lips lightly over yours, before he captured you in a soft, sweet kiss.

Sihtric hummed softly before he pulled away, lightheaded while his heart was beating out of his chest. And when he saw you smiled at him, he brought his lips back to yours again.

When you woke up in your own bed the next morning, a little sore, you felt yourself pout in silence when you noticed Sihtric was gone. It's not like you hadn't expected him to be anything more than a one night stand, so you weren't really surprised, but you had to admit you were a little disappointed. His flirting had been very effective, and he truly seemed different from any other guy you ever met, so you had some unfair expectation that he wouldn't just run off in the morning. But you also blamed yourself for it being a one night thing. You had not discussed your own intentions before you took him home. Or after you had moaned his name in the middle of the night, when he had his hand wrapped around your throat and his other cupping your cheek, while his forehead rested against yours and his low, heavy growl spilled down over your lips as your fingers were tangled in his messy hair.

You sat up and searched for your underwear in your bed, when suddenly your bathroom door, which was across from your bed, flung open and Sihtric walked out, shirtless, only dressed in those tight, leather jeans while his damp hair was raked back with his fingers.

'Jesus fucking christ!' you yelled and pulled the blankets up to cover your breasts.

Not that he hadn't seen those before. He had actually done way more than just seeing those, you thought, and you felt your face heat up.

'Fuck!' Sihtric hissed and grabbed his chest, looking equally as startled as you.

'You scared me!' you half yelled.

'Shit. Sorry, angel,' he chuckled, 'I hope you didn't mind I took a shower,' he said a little shyly.

'What? No, no,' you shook your head, 'that's fine. I just… I didn't expect you were still here.'

'Oh,' Sihtric said, and his confidence left his body in an instant, 'I- I'm sorry,' you could see the sudden hurt in his eyes before he looked down at his feet, 'I didn't realise that... I-I should've known this was just a one night stand,' he mumbled and walked over to grab his shirt from the floor, which you had taken off of him the night before, and he put it back on, 'I'm really sorry if I overstayed my welcome. I- I should head home now anyway, I have a meeting soon. So-'

'No,' you interrupted him, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… I… I thought it was just a, you know, a quick and random fuck for you,' you said with flushed cheeks.

'Ah,' he clicked his tongue, and anxiously rubbed his hand over his chin, 'I'm sorry if I made it come off that way. That was truly never my intention,' he cleared his throat, 'but, eh, yeah, you know, I better get going anyway. Gotta change my clothes and get some quick food…'

'Let me make you breakfast,' you blurted out as Sihtric picked up his leather boots, and he stared at you.

'What?' he chuckled, then smirked, 'you want to make me breakfast?'

'What's your favourite flower?' Sihtric asked, his mouth stuffed with cereal as he ate like a wild boar, not having much time.

'What? Oh, uh,' you chuckled, 'uh, roses. Cliché, I know,' you rolled your eyes.

'I like roses. Roses are pretty,' he said and swallowed his food, 'pretty like you,' he smiled before he hovered the rest of his cereal, then jumped up.

'You had enough to eat?' you asked, watching him grab his short, leather jacket.

'Not quite,' Sihtric chuckled, 'but I really gotta go, sweetheart. I can't be late,' he picked up his skateboard and hopped back over to you to kiss your cheek, 'thank you though.'

'You're welcome,' you smiled, and just when Sihtric turned away, you pulled him back in for a kiss on his lips.

Sihtric froze for a second and dropped his skateboard. He smiled against your lips and gently cupped your cheeks, kissing you back, soft and slow. After a moment, which was way too short, you broke the kiss, knowing he had to run. You smiled at him when he suddenly got all shy.

'So, eh,' Sihtric blushed, 'c-call me?' he asked, cautiously, 'will you call me later?'

'Y-yeah,' you felt yourself becoming shy too, 'what time suits you? After your meeting?'

'I should be back home after five,' he said and picked up his skateboard again.

You nodded with a smile and promised to call him as you walked him to your door. He gave you a sweet, slightly awkward peck to your lips and then you watched him skateboard smoothly down the road. And only when you closed the door, and Sihtric left your street in a hurry, you both realised you didn't have his number.

You hoped that, since Sihtric knew where you lived now, he would come find you after his meeting. But you also couldn't help worrying that maybe he would have forgotten about you by the end of the day. The thoughts drove you mad, and it was only four in the afternoon when suddenly your doorbell rang and you jumped up. Half wanting it to be Sihtric, half trying to ignore that hope, so you wouldn't get your silly little heart broken over a guy you only just met.

You opened the door and, to your confusion, you were greeted by a large package.

'Will you please sign?' a young lady asked, holding a clipboard out to you.

'Ehh, but I didn't order anything?' you more or less asked.

'Is this your name?' she asked, and you took a closer look at the label.

'It is, but-'

'Then please sign.'

You raised an eyebrow in offence, but you were curious now and wanted to know what was in the box, so you signed. The box wasn't that heavy, but it was annoyingly shaped, so you could barely pick it up. After your struggle to get back into your living room, you quickly opened the package, and you smiled a little confused.

Roses. The box held a mixed bouquet of one dozen red roses, and one dozen black roses. Then, your eyes spotted a little note hidden in the bouquet, and you folded it open.

My angel, sorry I had to rush this morning. In my haste I forgot to give you my number.

Here's a small thanks for the breakfast… and the great sex last night.

Call me? x

You couldn't fight your smile anymore and squealed when you found Sihtric's number on the back of the handwritten note. His flower delivery arrangement had caused him to be late to his meeting, but he couldn't let you slip out of his hands like that.

'I'm sorry I slipped out of your hands like that,' Sihtric sniffled as he held you tight, after he had scared you out of your mind by coming back from the dead.

After the first shock, he had carried you to bed, where he cuddled up with you, just like he used to before he died.

'I'm so sorry I left you just like that,' he whispered.

'I just don't understand,' you cried, 'how am I supposed to understand any of this? How… how are you here? How do I know I haven't gone completely fucking mental?'

'You haven't,' he said as he took your face, 'you haven't gone insane, I promise.'

'I just don't understand,' you barely whispered.

'I am here because my soul hasn't been able to rest since I died. Odin sent me back to make things right, so I can find my peace.'

'So… are you like… are you an angel?' you sniffled.

'No, love,' Sihtric chuckled and kissed your lips, 'I am too angry to be an angel.'

'I've missed you so much,' you sobbed and fell in his arms.

'I've missed you too,' Sihtric sighed, 'it's been so lonely without you, my love. But at least I could always see you.'

'What?' you leaned back and looked up at him, 'w-what do you mean?'

'The raven… at the window,' he whispered, 'he's my eyes and ears. And I… I see you cry every night, baby,' his voice broke, 'here, in our bed.'

He moved his hand slowly over the soft sheets you were both under.

'Please,' Sihtric whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, 'don't. Don't cry for me, angel. You have to stop that, please. It's tearing me apart to see you hurt like that, when I can't hold you in my arms or kiss your tears away.'

'But I don't know how to live without you,' you teared up again, 'I don't want to live without you.'

'Shh,' he hushed you and pecked your lips, while you both cried and trembled in each other's arms again, 'I'm here now, okay?'

'Please… you... you can't,' your breath hitched,' please, never leave me again, Siht.'

'You have to understand, my sweetest love,' Sihtric whispered and softly caressed your cheek, 'that all of this is temporary.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

78 notes · View notes