#him being a bastard i just know in my heart to be true. him going soft around gary well we all have eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hooniblr · 2 months

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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 (𝐘𝐄𝐓) 𝐈𝐈

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki x female feader

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.8k

GENRE ▸ high school au, brother’s best friend au, fluff, angst

SYNOPSIS ▸ After spending the better part of your adolescent life crushing on your brother’s best friend, you finally decide to call it quits on your unrequited feelings when you come to the conclusion that’s all they will ever be—unrequited. The only problem is that getting rid of these feelings that have been lurking in your heart is much more difficult than you anticipated. Especially because the object of your affections keeps making it hard for you to move on.

Or the one where Riki resorts to blackmail.

WARNINGS ▸ reader as sunoo’s twin sister, riki as sunoo’s bestie, feat. some of the newjeans members, reader is an expert at hiding her feelings, misunderstandings, pining, slow burn, blackmail, broken promises, hurt feelings

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NOTE — thank you for all the love on part one! hope you guys like this part. mdni banner made by @/benkeibear

“You still haven’t told Sunoo about your new hobby?”

“No. I know he would just worry about me getting hurt.” You sighed. “So would my parents.”

Minji furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t you think hiding it is doing too much? You’re not doing anything bad. It’s just jiujitsu.”

“You know how my mom gets. She wants me to do things ‘normal girls do’ like that’s going to make me act like her friends’ kids. Remember when she tried to make me join the choir?”

“Yeah.” Danielle grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get so embarrassed.”

You and Minji shared her grimace. Your audition probably went down as the worst in the history of the entire school. “I’m actually kind of good at jiujitsu, and I like doing it. If I tell Sunoo about it he won’t let me go back to the dojo ever again.”

Minji sighed. She knew you were right. Having an overprotective family would be the death of you.

“Come on.” She said, hoping to distract you from your inner turmoil. “Let’s go eat in the courtyard.”

“You don’t want to go to the cafeteria?”

"Riki’s in there.” Danielle reminded you. “So is Heeseung.”

“True.” You pursed your lips. “I’ll meet you guys out there. I have to drop off Sunoo’s stuff first.”

The hallway was relatively empty when you wandered up the stairs. You were glad no one was around because it would make it easier to drop off your brother’s bag—which he had inconveniently forgotten in the morning, again. When you glanced inside his classroom, it was completely alone, much to your relief.

After dumping the bag on his desk, you made a run for it. Sure, you were probably being overly paranoid, but you couldn’t risk running into Riki. Especially not after last night.

“Kim Y/N.”

Hearing your full government name made you freeze just before you reached the stairs. Your heart and mind had memorized that smooth melody long ago. You slowly turned around, heart stuttering despite knowing what sight awaited you. Riki’s usually sweet gaze had been replaced with one that was full of disapproving anger and something else; something you couldn’t discern.

“Riki.” You said his name breathlessly.

Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed his suspicions. Up until now, you never had a problem being around him, or even looking at him. Right now, Riki could see that you were itching to get away from him as if he was some sort of parasite. He knew your awkward behavior was nothing more than a byproduct of hanging around that bastard Lee Heeseung, and it only made his anger grow immutably.

“I saw you last night.” Riki’s tone was accusing, knowing he was approaching the situation in a completely immature way. “I know you haven’t been hanging out at the internet cafe. You go to that dojo with Lee Heeseung.”

Out of all the things you expected Riki to say, him bringing up your secret jiujitsu lessons wasn’t on the list. It was clear that he disapproved, but you weren’t sure why he seemed as upset as he did. Did he know Sunoo wouldn’t approve as well? They truly were best friends. You were glad to see that the loyalty wasn’t just a one-way street despite the fact that it was now backfiring on you.

And so, like a deer caught in headlights, you could only blink at him bovinely as he gave you a stare that demanded answers.

“Does Sunoo know what you’ve been doing instead of going home?”

Your eyes widened in realization. Riki was going to rat you out.

“Please don’t say anything.” You begged, clasping your fingers together to form the classic pleading gesture. “I know he wouldn’t approve, and if he tells our parents then I won’t be able to go anymore.”

Riki clenched his jaw. Was being able to see that idiot so important to you? Enough to risk getting in trouble with your parents? He wondered how you would feel about Heeseung if you knew the truth about him. You definitely wouldn’t feel the same way about him if you found out what kind of person he really was.

Even so, your shimmering eyes had him thinking twice about ruining what you had with Heeseung. He could see that you were clearly infatuated with that idiot to the point that you were willing to upset your entire family by seeing him. The fact that you were even willing to go to that stupid dojo with him was enough indication of how much you liked him. (As if you avoiding him wasn’t proof enough.)

“Well—”

“Y/N!”

Sunoo bounded over to you with his rowdy friends following close behind him. Your panic-filled eyes glanced from Riki to your brother. You tried to straighten out your dismayed expression with a tense smile.

“Twin!” You exclaimed a little too happily. “I left your bag on your desk.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot—”

“I’ll see you at home.” You rushed out, not giving either boys a chance to respond before you took off down the stairs.

Luckily for you, neither of them followed after you. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you looked back just to make sure. At that moment, you bumped into someone and nearly fell back. Stumbling awkwardly, you started to apologize for not watching where you were going.

“It’s okay. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Seeing Sunghoon’s worried expression almost made you roll your eyes. Instead, you told him you were fine and kept walking because the last thing you needed was to deal with your ex. Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed a stealthy getaway.

“What’s going on between you and Lee Heeseung?”

You glanced over your shoulder, annoyed that Sunghoon was following you. It would’ve been easy to ignore him, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone since he had asked you in that nosy tone of his. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you two at Jake’s party.” Sunghoon sounded insecure or something close to it. “Do you like him or something?”

An incredulous scoff tumbled past your lips. “What do you care? Are you jealous?”

“Yes—extremely.” His pout was objectively cute, but you couldn’t see it as anything other than annoying. “Since when did you start hanging around Lee Heeseung?”

It was usually easy for you to hide your feelings, but now your indignation was the one taking control as you turned to face him. “Around the time you stopped.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. If Heeseung had mentioned their brief friendship to you, it’s because he had explicit trust in you. The theory that he concocted the other night couldn’t be too far off from the truth. It made him feel a terrible dread in his gut. Heeseung wasn’t the type to reveal any private information, which brought Sunghoon back to the conclusion that you weren’t just anyone his former friend.

“So, Heeseung likes you then.”

You don’t think you had ever heard anything more ridiculous. It was obvious that Sunghoon was still too self absorbed to see that Heeseung had been pining for Song Yura for the longest time. His unrequited feelings are the reason you two had gotten so close. Not that it was any of your ex’s business.

You scoffed quietly before an apathetic smile spread on your lips. “Think what you want.”

Sunghoon frowned. As he went to say something else, you went out the exit leading to the courtyard. He could only watch you walk away from him with a disheartened expression.

Thinking you had successfully gotten him to back off was your first mistake.

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“Which movie did you pick?” You wondered as you put the popcorn bag in the microwave.

“I didn’t pick one yet.” Sunoo said from the living room. “Riki’s coming over so I wanted to let him decide on the movie too.”

You nearly dropped the bowl you pulled out of the cabinet. Maybe you should’ve felt upset that Sunoo conveniently forgot to mention that his bestie was crashing your movie night, but you were too panicked to feel angry or anything related to that emotion. It didn’t even have to do with the fact that you were practically in love with Riki. Instead it was about the not-so-small tidbit that he knew your secret and was probably planning to tell your brother all about it.

“I thought you said it was just going to be us tonight.” You did your best to sound upset although you were sure your voice was shaking.

“Riki wanted to hang out. You know I can’t tell him no.” Sunoo pouted as you went to sit by him. “You’ve never had a problem with him coming over before.”

That was before you decided to get over him.

“The three of us haven’t hung out together in a while. It’ll be good for him to come over, anyway. He could use your advice.”

“My advice?” You mimicked curiously. “Advice for what?”

“He got a love letter from Song Yura today.” Sunoo said with a giddy laugh. “He didn’t let me see what it said, but I think she confessed to him.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a love letter.” You said pathetically, knowing it was your wishful thinking doing the talking.

“But she even has his helmet. Not his extra one, his favorite one. I’m sure it won’t be long before they’re a couple.”

It was hard not to feel like a deflated balloon with what Sunoo was saying. Not only because Song Yura was obviously someone very special to Riki (he didn’t let just anyone touch that helmet), but because you knew Heeseung was going to feel heartbroken once he heard the news.

You couldn’t be surprised that this happened. It wasn’t like this was the first time Riki had gotten a girlfriend. He’d had plenty between the time you’d met him and now.

So, why did this feel so much worse than all the other times?

The title of the movie the boys selected went over your head. Your inner turmoil had the knots in your stomach tightening with every passing second. You weren’t sure whether to focus on the fact that Riki might expose your secret or that one of the prettiest girls in school had confessed to him. The choice wasn’t left to you as your mind alternated from thinking about the two problems periodically.

Your eyes were focused on the TV screen, but you were too busy thinking to see any of what was actually happening. Honestly, it was a good thing that Riki could potentially get into a relationship. If he did, it would be the thing to help her move on once and for all. Although watching him end up with someone else wouldn’t be painless, it would for the best. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

Also, should Riki start to date Yura, then maybe he would be too caught up in his relationship to bring up your secret. Or maybe that was more of your wishful thinking since Riki was much more bothered about your jiujitsu lessons than you expected. You still couldn’t figure out why. It couldn’t be just because of his friendship to your brother. No matter how many times you went over it in your head, you couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

Somehow, the movie ended before you could focus on it. With Sunoo telling Riki to pick another movie because he needed to use the restroom, you mindlessly wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of making more popcorn for the second movie. In reality, you needed to put some distance between you and Riki. Being alone with him wouldn’t do your resilience any good, and it definitely wasn’t helping your nerves. Unfortunately for you, nothing ever went as planned.

“We didn’t finish our conversation.”

Your hands stilled. Calm down. Breathe. You pressed the start button on the microwave before turning around to face Riki.

His thick eyebrow was raised, and that domineering look from before made an appearance once again. “Are you really going to keep doing jiujitsu even though you know your family won’t approve?”

You almost told him that he also did plenty of things that his family didn’t approve of, but you knew it wasn’t smart to get snarky with the person who knew your secret. Telling him the real reason you were practicing jiujitsu was out of the question. So, left without any other choice, you decided to bring up your friend in the hopes that he would leave it alone.

“It’s something fun to do with Heeseung.”

Astoundingly enough, Riki’s stern gaze became even more lethal. “Can’t you do something else with that idiot?” His voice rose unintentionally. “How can you want to keep learning jiujitsu just because that’s what—?”

“Shh!” You hissed in a panic, practically pouncing on Riki as you placed your hands over his mouth. “Sunoo will hear you!”

As you looked towards the living room worriedly, Riki found himself frozen in shock. Your soft hands pressing against his lips had his heart pounding harshly against his chest. From this close, he could see every single one of your eyelashes and the deep color of your pretty eyes. He couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, only focusing on the close proximity. You smell invaded his senses and disarmed him completely.

When you looked back at Riki, you noticed he was looking at you strangely. It was then that you realized how close you two were. Literally chest to chest. You jumped back, feeling a bit of heat spread on your face.

“Sorry.” You apologized. “Just please don’t say anything.”

You rushed back into the living room before Riki could say anything else. All you could focus on was your erratic heartbeat that wouldn’t slow down. How could he affect you so much without even doing anything? It wasn’t fair because you were sure your presence didn’t have the same affect on him. The heat on your face hadn’t gone down even when Riki came back with the popcorn. If he noticed how flustered you looked, he didn’t mention it.

“Y/N.” Sunoo said as he walked back into the living room. “What’s this? Is it yours?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw Sunoo holding up your gi. You nearly choked, not knowing what to say since you were practically caught red-handed. Since when did he go through the laundry?

“That’s Danielle’s.” Riki said suddenly. “She asked me to get it for her when I came over.”

Without any hesitation, Sunoo handed the garments to Riki. While you were grateful that he hadn’t outed your secret, the nerves of him possibly changing his mind had you fidgeting uncomfortably as the two boys picked another movie. All throughout the comedy, you kept stealing glances at Riki. He didn’t look at you once, and you mentally cursed him for being so good at hiding his emotions.

When it was time for Riki to leave, you offered to see him out. Instead of walking him to the door, you stepped out into the cold night with him. You stood in front of Riki, nervously playing with the hem of her hoodie.

“Thank you for not telling my brother.”

“I’ll keep your secret.” Riki promised. “But you have to do something for me.”

You should’ve been suspicious at the tone he’d gotten, but you were too caught up with his promise not to tell anyone about your jiujitsu lessons. “What’s that?”

“I won’t tell anyone about what you’ve been up to as long as you stop going to that dojo and stop seeing Lee Heeseung.”

You thought he was joking until you that saw his somber expression didn’t change. Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. She could understand the first part of his request, but what did you being friends with Heeseung have to do with anything?

“What? I can’t just—”

“Should I let your brother know what you’ve been doing, then?” Riki raised a challenging eyebrow at you.

Your shoulders sagged. “No.”

Riki held back a grin, but only just. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” You agreed reluctantly.

His signature smirk made an appearance. He lifted his hand and rested it on your head, softly ruffling the top of your hair. “Good. See you later.”

“Wait!” You called, pointing at the garments in his hand. “My gi!”

Riki glanced down at the clothing in his hands. Again, he looked up at her with that smirk of his. “This? I think I’ll hold onto it for the time being.” His smirk seemed mocking now, but it was still fatally attractive. Damn him. “Go back inside. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

And so, you watched Riki get on his motorcycle and take off with a sulky scowl on your face.

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“Y/N.”

Riki was leaning against his motorcycle as he beckoned you over to where he was. You hesitantly walked over, feeling your palms begin to perspire. Ever since you decided to go behind his back and still go to the dojo with Heeseung, you felt like you were on the brink of being caught.

“Where are you heading?”

To the dojo. “Oh... I was just going home since Minji and Danielle can’t hang out today.”

“Let’s get something to eat.” Riki’s words left no room for any disagreements. He handed you his spare helmet casually. “Hop on.”

You shook her head frantically. “Oh—no. You don’t have to. I’m not—”

“Come on.” He insisted, forcing the helmet into your hands. “Don’t you want your gi back?”

You scowled. “Fine.”

After putting on the helmet, you hesitantly got on the back of his motorcycle. It was embarrassing since you didn’t exactly fit on the edge of the bike, though, it mostly had to do with you sitting as far from him as the narrow seat would allow. You were sure you’d turn into putty if you had any physical contact with him.

“Hold on tight.”

You grimaced, torn between playing out the one fantasy that had been replaying through your head for months and your rational need to set boundaries so your feelings would stop growing. You awkwardly grabbed Riki’s shoulders, hoping that you wouldn’t fall off once he took off.

Riki laughed at your obvious unease. He decided to do a break check so you’d realize that not holding onto him wasn’t an option. Suddenly, you were flung forward. The front of your body collided with Riki’s firm back with a loud thud. For a moment, you thought you had hurt him until you saw his shoulders shaking with laughter. You glared at the back of his head. “Riki!”

“I told you to hold on.” Riki said, the lilt in his voice was teasing yet there was also a serious undertone to his words. “Do you want to fly off?”

You almost told him that you wouldn’t if he went slow enough. However, you kept your mouth shut and hoped your obsession wouldn’t grow as you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his torso. You gently rested your head against his back and closed your eyes. Just for a second, you told yourself. For a small moment, you would let go of the worries that burdened you and simply enjoy being close to the boy you liked.

Something unfamiliar tugged at Riki’s chest. His head shifted a little, wanting to catch a glimpse of the girl on his back. Your arms were secured around his waist and you were leaning on him, but he suddenly found that it wasn’t enough. Somehow he wanted you even closer. Riki cleared his throat quietly, pushing the unfamiliar thoughts out of his mind for the time being.

And so, you two sped off, neither of you noticing the boy who had been watching their entire interaction from afar.

You uncomfortably picked at the food in front of you. Had this been last year, you would’ve been overjoyed at sharing a meal with Riki (part of you still was), but now you couldn’t help but feel like this was all some sort of trap. Like he knew you had gone against your promis and was waiting on Sunoo to show up to tell him everything.

“Are you not hungry?” Riki wondered with a slight frown. “Bulgogi is your favorite.”

Honestly, you felt like puking up all the butterflies in her stomach, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’m not really hungry.” Your words were hardly convincing, but Riki seemed to believe you. “I got used to not eating as much because of jiujitsu.”

Riki’s jaw ticked in annoyance. “Is that really all it is?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head. “I swear.”

That aggravated look he had been getting a lot lately found its way onto his face again. “Are you sure it’s not because you can’t see Heeseung?”

Your reluctance to answer the question had irritation crawling up his skin like a parasite. He knew that’s what it was. The shy look on your face was all the indication he needed to know you were thinking about that idiot. Riki only asked you because he hoped that you would tell him. Once you did, he would tell you that Heeseung wasn’t worth your time.

“It’s not like that.” You told him, confused that he was getting so worked up.

“Do you like him?” Riki demanded, needing to hear those words come out of your mouth. “Tell me the truth.”

His tone caught you off guard. You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering if you should mess with him a little since he took your stuff. Maybe it was petty of you, but you decided to do it anyway. You gave him a half-smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “That’s a secret.”

Riki was sure his jaw would snap at any moment from the amount of pressure he was putting on it. “Just know you’re out of his league. You’re way too pretty to settle for him of all people.”

You felt like your heart was ready to burst at any moment from how fast it was beating. Damn him. Damn your feelings for him. You were aware Riki only spoke his words out of kindness (and out of his dislike for Heeseung), but your dumb heart couldn’t tell the difference. It was clear that Riki didn’t see you the way he saw Song Yura. To him, you would always be Sunoo’s sister. But for a brief moment, you allowed herself to believe that he sincerely meant what he said.

Your shocked gaze had Riki coughing nervously. It wasn’t the first time he called you pretty, but this time it felt different from all the previous times. His words seemed more... intimate, somehow.

You didn’t realize you were full-on staring until the chime of a text notification pulled you out of the trance that was Riki’s intense gaze. Your jaw nearly dropped when she saw Heeseung’s name on the screen. He didn’t text you very often, and when he did it was only ever to tell you he wouldn’t be at the dojo.

Where are you?

You briefly glanced at Riki before quickly typing out a reply.

I’m at the corner restaurant near the dojo. I’ll be there soon.

You put your phone back on the table, feeling like there was an impending doom waiting for you. There was this inkling you had that nothing good could come from Heeseung’s ominous message. Even so, you chose to ignore it for the time being.

“So.” Riki cleared his throat, not knowing why he suddenly felt so shy. “What’s so great about your little crush, anyway?”

You contemplated your next words. Riki probably thought you were going to tell him about Heeseung, but he could never know what you were about to say was all about him. It was the only opportunity you would have to tell Riki how you really felt about him.

“Ever since we met, he’s been nothing but kind to me. He sees me for who I am.” The corner of your mouth lifted a bit. “Some people think he’s a jerk, but he isn’t really. He’s actually really sweet and caring.”

Riki’s expression hardened. Sweet? Caring? Yeah, right. He was sure that he could be much more sweet than Heeseung who had the emotional range of a fish.

“What about you, Riki?” You questioned despite knowing his answers would only hurt your feelings. “Everyone’s talking about how much you like Yura. What kind of person is she?”

Riki raised his eyebrows, baffled. “What? I don’t—”

He cut himself off when he saw a familiar (and unwelcome) presence approach the table. If you thought his gaze was harsh before, it didn’t compare to the murderous look that crossed his face in that instant. You followed his gaze, mouth dropping open in surprise when you saw Heeseung standing about two feet away from the table.

“H-Heeseung?” You choked out, unable to believe that he was actually there.

“I got worried when you didn’t meet me at the dojo like we’d planned.” He said like his words weren’t the equivalent of dropping a bomb of chaos.

You could’ve choked Heeseung right then and there. What the hell did he think he was doing? You gave him a look, one that you hoped he would understand. Either he didn’t notice it or he didn’t care. You were willing to bet it was the latter.

“What are you doing here?” Riki’s voice was deceptively calm. “Don’t tell me you’re following her.”

In the few times you witnessed the two boys around each other, you knew it always got ugly fast. You could see where this encounter was heading, and it was heading there quick. Luckily for you, your saint of a brother decided to call you right then.

“Sunoo!” You hastily answered your phone. “What’s up?”

“Mom wants us home for dinner. She made ribs.”

“Okay. I’ll be there right away.” You hung up before he could say anything else. You scrambled to grab your bag. “I have to go—family emergency. See you guys later!”

With that, you ran away from the uncomfortable scene that was unfolding without looking back once.

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You waited at the front of your school anxiously. Riki hadn’t mentioned anything to Sunoo yet, and you were hoping you could convince him not to with a bit of begging. The seconds ticked by, and while you still hadn’t seen his familiar motorcycle, you saw the person who had dug you into a deeper hole.

“Lee Heeseung!” You hissed as you pulled him to the side. “What was that stunt you pulled yesterday? You know I can’t have anyone find out that I’m learning jiujitsu.”

Heeseung looked unfazed as ever. “I just want to know what you’re doing. You said you were trying to get over Nishimura, but you were having a meal with him.”

Your right eye twitched. “That’s because he said he would give me back my gi!” You whisper-yelled, wanting to pull on the ends of your hair in frustration. “Which he didn’t, thanks to you.”

“I also wanted to ask him why he has a problem with us being friends. It’s not like you’re his little sister.”

You’re not sure why that made your anger simmer to a simple irritation. Also, Heeseung did sort of have a point. You laughed incredulously, shoving his shoulder a bit. “You’re so immature, Hee. You know he has a problem with it because he doesn’t like you.”

Heeseung highly doubted the only reason Riki didn’t want you two hanging out was because of their mutual dislike for each other. He knew that you probably wouldn’t figure that out any time soon because you were too overwhelmed with your own feelings, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find out the truth on your behalf.

Your smile was quick to slip off your face when you saw Song Yura staring your way. The heartbroken look she had her on her face caught you by surprise. Even worse, Riki was standing directly behind her. You felt herself panic. If there was any hope that your begging would convince him not to say anything, it was gone now. Now you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to crawl out of the hole you had dug yourself in.

Riki on the other hand could only look on with a glare. He had never planned on exposing your secret. It was only a pretense to get you to stop hanging around that prick, but now he could truly see that your feelings were stronger than your fear of getting in trouble. He had suspected that was the case for some time now, yet it still made him feel sick.

Why did it have to be Lee Heeseung of all people? Why couldn’t it be... anyone else?

Riki turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, not knowing what to make of the heaviness in his chest.

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atlasnessie · 3 months

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being with CHUUYA means being one another’s biggest supporters. the mafia is a scary place, it isn’t for the kind hearted and you know this well. it also isn’t a place for romance, though, it seems as if executive CHUUYA NAKAHARA does mind, just don’t embarrass him. “hey, you’re back. are you hurt anywhere ..? wha — i wasn’t waiting for you !! i just happen to be here. yeah yeah, whatever. get to the medics if you’re hurt. i’ll walk you.”

CHUUYA doesn’t have a lot of free time; coming home around five in the morning and then going back to work around eight. if he’s lucky, he’ll come home early and get a decent four hours of sleep. during those hours of rest, he can’t seem to grasp sleep the way he wants it. but seeing you, home earlier than him and bundled up with the blanket on your shared bed, CHUUYAS muscles relax. maybe he’ll get a few extra hours tonight. “hm ? sorry doll, did i wake you ? no ? alright. quit chatting, go back to bed. i’ll tell ‘ya how my day went when you wake up later, ‘kay ? love you.”

CHUUYA takes his job as a mafioso and a lover very seriously, understanding the concept of separating work from his home and love life. though, on days off, he’ll convince mori to give you one too, spending the day together. CHUUYA would buy you anything and everything. he knows you can pay with your own money, the mafia treats the both of you far too well, but he’s gotta spoil you every now and then, right ? “let’s go here. are you seriously askin’ why ? there was something you were eyeballing this fuckin’ whole week … don’t say you ‘don’t need it,’ love. come on, before it’s gone.”

CHUUYA NAKAHARA, once a strange fifteen year-old you met and rumored to be the vessel of arahabaki. he isn’t human, people would tell you, but you thought otherwise. his emotions raged like fire, pure and true. and for the longest time until dazai’s mysterious departure, you admired him from afar. CHUUYA wasn’t a ‘diamond in the rough,’ he was born as ‘the’ diamond, living amongst rocks and rubble that would crack into nothing. how you and CHUUYA came to be still remains a mystery to you. perhaps it was when you cried when dazai left and he tried to comfort you, telling you a bastard like him isn’t worth crying over, or when he dragged you all the way back to the headquarters when you were weak and shot in the legs during a mission. however it was, you knew it was meant to be, you and CHUUYA. hearts linked and intertwined, born and made to be with one another, like needle, like thread. “hiya, dollface. boss wanted to drop these off to you. he said you can do them tomorrow. when you’re done with everything, gimme a call and we’ll go out to eat. ‘ya cravin’ anything ?”

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #atlas writes !#this is smth similar to the dazai one !! i love chuuya pretend i’m doing a dreamy sighhhh

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underoossss · 10 months

Text

Tell me – Miguel O’Hara

pairing: jealous!miguel ohara x f!reader

warnings: none

an: had a lot of fun writing this, pls laugh with me when you see the little crossover I included lol. anyway, have some pining!miguel that gets jealous when he learns something from your mission and a pining spiderwoman who gets on his nerves

masterlist

—-

“So, there you have it guys, another fun adventure for Spider-Sting.” You say as you step back into the Society, a rogue Scorpion trapped next to you and your phone help up high to frame the two of you. The displeased villain rolls his eyes and you laugh. “Bye!”

A frustrated groan comes from your watch a second later, and you smile knowing who it belongs to. You shoot a web towards the trap and hold it over your shoulder, dragging the Scorpion behind you on your way to Miguel’s lab. “Let me guess,” You say, pocketing your phone and knowing what Miguel’s going to say next.

“No social media use while on duty.”

“Live a little, babe.” You smile, taking your mask off and waving at Webslinger when you spot him dropping off a villain of his own. “Hosting a live while working won’t hurt anybody.”

The Scorpion is taken away by Margo to be sent back home when Miguel speaks again. “It can hurt you.”

“Aw, Miguelito. You do care about me!” You smile at one of his cameras, hand over your heart, as you pass by on your way to his lab. “Anyway, I gotta tell you something. You’re not busy, are you?”

“When has that ever stopped you?” Miguel’s voice gives away the likely eyeroll he’s giving you through one of his glowing orange screens. “You need to file your report anyway.”

“Say, here’s a suggestion,” You start, grinning widely when Miguel’s no comes from both your watch and above you once you’re in his office. Feigning being upset you mutter, “You didn’t let me finish.”

“I’m not filing your report, pulguita.” Miguel says, not looking at you but lowering his platform so you can step on it. As always the yellow and orange glow of the screens bathe him in their light, making it hard not to stare at his handsome features. The bridge of his nose, his bottom lip, the sharp edge of his cheekbones.

“Worth a shot.” You tell him as you stand next to him and sit on a free spot over his desk. Your friend turns slightly towards you, sending an amused look your way before he goes back to typing away on a keyboard. It’s his way of saying go on, so you do.

“Anyway! The mission started off alright, the bastard almost got me –can you believe he wasn’t amused by my jokes? I mean what are odds he has a stinger and he’s fighting someone calling herself the Spider-Sting– whatever, the thing is I had it like 70%–”

“Seventy huh?”

“Hush! 70% under control and this dude shows up out of nowhere, white suit with like gold moons what worked just like boomerangs? He tries to kill my villain!” You throw your hands up in exasperation at the memory.

“Uh-huh, so what did you do? You brought the Scorpion back with you, so you must have won.” Miguel is still looking at whatever he’s messing with on the computer, tsk-ing every time he messes something up. His tone holds something like fondness mixed with pride, it makes your whole body warm.

“So, I had to tell him, I have to take this guy with me, and he goes I can’t let you do that.” You continue, hopping off the desk and walking to Miguel’s other side. When you lean over to look at his face he looks down, eyes meeting yours briefly, waiting for whatever you’re going to say next. “Babe, he sounded just like you! I’m not even joking; I got it on video ‘cause I was live –as you reprimanded me for– but Lyla can tell you!”

“It’s true.” Lyla blinks into existence over Miguel’s shoulder, messing around with her phone for a moment before smiling teasingly at her boss. “He was all: sweetheart, I don’t care if I sound like your boyfriend, and Sting went–”

“What?” Miguel pauses his typing and turns to look at you. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t tell him you’re my boyfriend.” You wave him off, crossing your arms and looking away; your defenses go up immediately. Despite all your teasing and flirting, the last thing you want is for Miguel to find out about your dumb crush on him. Dumb in the sense that he’s never going to feel the same. “He just assumed you were–”

“He called you sweetheart?” Miguel asks, voice low and turning back to his screens.

“Well yeah, I–” You stop yourself short, glancing over at the tall man in front of you and taking in his stance.

Miguel’s hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, his neck muscles tense from whatever he’s feeling. Both his brows are pressed together in the middle of his forehead and his full lips are pulled down in an upset frown. In a moment, your body lights up as hope settles on your chest. Is he?

“Are you jealous?” You ask slowly, dragging out the word as you tilt your head.

“I think he is.” Lyla blinks in front of Miguel’s face, laying on her stomach, chin on her palm.

“Lyla.” Miguel grumbles which causes her to go away, out of mercy you’re sure. “I’m not jealous.”

“Hmm.” You scoot closer to him, letting your hands fall to your sides. Curious to see where this goes, and because you can’t help yourself, you exaggerate the end of your story. “Anyway, he was really flirty, but I distracted him enough that I captured the Scorpion and came back here before he could give me his number.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes betray his emotions when he meets your gaze. He’s incredulous at your retelling of your adventure, but even more so outraged at your last words. His mouth is still twisted in a sneer, though at what you don’t know.

“What’s the problem? The fact that he called me sweetheart or something else?” You place your hands on your hips, done teasing and very curious. “You call me nicknames all the time.”

“They’re not nicknames.” Miguel tells you before he can stop himself and looks away when he realizes his mistake. “I’m busy. Go file your report.”

“Oh, not nicknames, then what are they?” You don’t back down, rolling your eyes when he turns his back to you. “That’s it you’re going to be annoyed out of jealousy? I flirt with you all the time.”

“That’s different and you know it.” Miguel says turning around, eyes scanning your face and the surprise that you actually got a reaction out of him.

“I don’t think I do. Why is it different?” You don’t back down walking into his space and looking up at him — damn him for being so tall. If he’s going to act like being hit on (which didn’t really happen, bless his heart) is such a problem for him he has to tell you why. For selfish reasons, you hope it’s because he likes you. “Tell me.”

Miguel looks down at you, his eyes boring into yours in a way that makes your next breath stutter. They’re still guarded but less so than before, and the sliver of emotion he lets through when he’s with you, grows the tiniest bit to show hesitation and nerves. The easy smile you were sporting falters, and your lips drop open slightly when you realize how close your faces are. When did Miguel lean so close to you? Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, and you panic.

“Or don’t.” You back down, shaking your head as you wonder if this was a good idea after all. You decide to lie through your nerves. “I’m just teasing you.”

As you begin to turn your face to put some space between you, Miguel’s hand goes up to your cheek to keep your gaze on him. “They’re not nicknames. I’ve been calling you endearments.” He murmurs, voice low as he looks down at you. “Just like you.”

“You mean, you’ve been flirting with me?” You ask breathlessly, your mind trying to compute what the man in front of you —who you never imagined liking you back— is saying. When he nods in an almost reluctant confession, you roll your eyes. “Then that’s the worst flirt—”

You’re cut short by Miguel’s lips pressing onto yours, effectively shutting you up with a world altering brush of lips. Then as if that wasn’t clear enough for you, he murmurs Shut up before leaning in and kissing you again, a real kiss this time. His hand on your cheek goes to the back of your head and your sighs are exchanged into each other’s mouths when they leave you in a rush. You’re surprised to find the same painful yearning you’ve been harboring for months in Miguel. It’s obvious in the way he deepens the kiss, the way he gathers you into his arms and pulls you closer, in the way his tongue tastes your mouth and leaves you dizzy.

“You were jealous then.” You say when you part momentarily, brushing the tip of your nose against Miguel’s.

“Yes.” Miguel confesses begrudgingly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“A waste of time.” You shake your head fondly, looking at him with a healthy dose of unrestrained adoration and attraction. “The guy assumed you were my boyfriend, and you know why?”

Miguel kisses the corner of your mouth and lingers there like he doesn’t want to part. His affection is hitting your system like a shot of adrenaline to the chest, you feel drunk on it. “Dime.”

“I couldn’t stop talking about you.” You smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “I think half the audience in my live already guessed I like you.”

“Half the society too.” Lyla pops up next to you, holding up a phone and taking a selfie with you. “Some of which are coming to your lab right now, so…”

You take a step back from Miguel, beaming at the conflicted look on his face. “Do you mind if I file my report here? I assume you’re not busy.”

“Wouldn’t matter if I was, princesa.” Is all he says before he pulls up some feed on his computers, getting ready to brief the Spider People on a new mission. You move to sit on the desk next to him, and smile when his hand squeezes your thigh affectionately.

—-

Let me know if you liked this! Reblogs are appreciated 🥹 motivate an unmotivated writer ✨

---

pulguita - ok taken literally it's a flea, but it's an endearment like lovebug for those who are short hence why miguel uses it.

dime - tell me

princesa - princess

—-

#miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 4 months

Note

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

#sorry it took so long #yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #genderbent #yandere king #yandere prince #love triangle #strong reader #cw blo0d #cw death

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greentrickster · 19 days

Text

Okay, so, been reading some good scumplane (OG!Shen Qingqiu/Airplane) lately, because in this house we support Airplane being loved by terrifying/terrifyingly hot men, but also, like... I do love Moshang just so so much as a ship.

And all this has awoken a mighty need in me.

A need for a Moshangjiu fic with scumplane getting established first and then bringing our favorite popsicle in on things.

Anyway, scenario! Shen Qingqiu starts noticing Shang Qinghua when they're disciples via the classic scenario of being smart enough to realize something is fishy about SQH being the only survivor of a demon attack, begins paying attention to his most anxious shidi, accidentally shows his most anxious shidi the simplest of Human Kindness, accidentally becomes shidi's favorite shixiong, accidentally becomes friends with shidi, accidentally catches feelings. Continues being a Sneaky Bastard in order to figure out what shidi is up to (and now also to confirm shidi is single).

Ah, shidi is entangled with an Ice Demon. This shixiong will make use of his scholarly peak's library to learn all and then decide to- wait. Wait, it's super violent by human standards, but is it- is this demon attempting to... court shidi?

...

Not if SQQ dates him first he's not!!!

There follows a whirlwind romance between SQQ and SQH where no one really knows what's going on, especially the two involved, it involves a lot of shit talking about everyone else in their lives, snacks, and accidental trauma bonding.

Also Airplane being Airplane and accidentally spilling that not only is he also kinda crushing (bad) on Mobei-jun, but also Mobei-jun's entire backstory and please, shixiong, I know it all looks bad but this shidi's house is literally the only place in the world it's completely safe for his king to sleep, everyone deserves to sleep without having to worry about their relatives murdering them for things that aren't their fault from time to time, right, shixiong???

Shen Qingqiu: ...goddammit, the demon's a fellow sad little meow meow. (only not in these exact words because he doesn't know these phrases, naturally)

In a wild, bold, and - dare I say it - shockingly sexy convolution of thought processes and ideas, SQQ manages to finagle SQH into letting him meet with MBJ (SQH nearly has a heart attack three times in the process but it's fine, it's cool, this is his life, this may as well happen, it's fine-).

SQQ: It has come to my attention that my shidi is spying for you on our sect.

MBJ: (glowering at SQH, who is cowering behind shixiong wondering how he got talked into all this)

SQQ: However it also appears that this is merely a cover story and the only thing you really do is use his room to nap. And also that you are quite fond of him.

SQH: (This is it, this is how I die. Again.)

MBJ: (...if I stare straight ahead and don't change my expression, no one will be able to tell that he's right)

SQQ: So anyway I think you should join Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

MBJ: (gears grinding)

SQH: (squawking splutters of protest and confusion)

SQQ: (who speaks panicking!SQH at this point) Stop that, it's perfectly reasonable. He has the head disciple of our logistics peak under his thumb, it would be the simplest thing in the world for him to have you throw the sect into absolute chaos without even trying, then organize an attack, swoop in, and crush us all. He could have done it years ago, but he never has, he never even seems to initiate anything. I don't think he even cares about taking the Northern Throne, I think he's just incompetent about wanting to spend time with you. So he might as well just lie low until our shizuns ascend and then I'll take him on as a disciple on Qing Jing and you two can stop sneaking around like idiots.

MBJ: >8O

SQQ: Are you actually opposed?

MBJ: (folds arms and looks away sulkily, because like... it's true but you don't have to say it like that)

SQH: 8O ...reverse uno...

SQQ: What?

SQH: You're reverse unoing my blorbo!

SQQ: Quit making up word-

SQQ cannot continue because the System just presented the option to accept this potential new plot line (even if it does have the rather confusing title of 'Shidi Has Two Hands'), and holy shit, Mobei-jun seems to be potentially down for it, holy shit, apparently Mobei-jun actually likes me, holy shit, SQQ may have just solved all my problems-?!? This is great, this is fantastic, this is the best day of my life, this- is a long time I'm being allowed to be myself about all this, why is Shen shixiong not interrupting...?

Ah.

It is because I am kissing him full on the lips.

Cool cool cool.

At least I'm gonna die on a high note.

SQQ: O///O o_o (ahem) Shidi's- shidi's a really bad kisser.

SQH: Ah-haha, I can explain-

SQQ: We should work on that. Later.

SQH: (BEST DAY OF BOTH MY LIVES!!!)

MBJ: (I... did not actually hate watching that. Hm.)

Anyway, he agrees to the plan, SQQ and SQH start dating, some more time passes, the previous generation of peak lords ascend, the new generation take their places, and a week later Mobei-jun is an outer disciple of Qing Jing Peak.

The other peak lords are not amused, Qingqiu that is a demon, no.

SQQ: So what I'm hearing is that whole 'Cang Qiong will accept anyone from anywhere' philosophy was a lie then?

He's a demon!

SQQ: Children can't help where they're born. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes to teach.

First lesson of the day is SQH and SQQ are a package deal, take it or leave it. Second lesson is no canoodling with Shang Shibo until you've finished with lessons and chores for the day. Third lesson is if you see any Bai Zhan disciples hassling our peak's disciples you can break their swords. Just snap 'em in half. Throw them off the peak. Don't kill them, but do make them cry.

SQH, meanwhile, has now seen MBJ in an outer disciple uniform and had a whole bunch of new awakenings on top of all the other things he already knew about himself.

And, in a twist of dramatic irony... Qing Jing's first disciple to ever have demonic heritage decides the dorms are a no-go after one night because, to him, they are broiling hot, how can anyone sleep in this heat, and chooses to go sleep in the wood shed instead.

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #moshang #scumplane #moshangjiu #shang qinghua #mobei jun #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #super fast and dirty outline to banish this plot bunny from my brain and inflict it on others instead

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sanjifucker42069 · 7 months

Text

Calm Him Down- Sanji x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: mentions of Sora Vinsmoke. Sanji has a panic attack. First ever hurt/comfort lmao, so there's that. Slight OOC as Sanji kinda breaks down, letting people in without costing an arm and a leg, the stubborn bastard. Reader's gender is not specified, but you do sleep in the women's quarters, which like, look at the gender ratio on the Sunny. There's heaps more room in the women's quarters, makes sense to chuck you there.

It's up to you how you read their relationship here. In my mind they're close friends pining for each other, but it could easily be read as platonic or established relationship.

------

It was a peaceful day on the Sunny; the seabirds were squawking, the ocean lapped at the boat lazily, and Zoro and Sanji were arguing. Go figure. Your eyebrow twitched, where you say at the kitchen table giving you perfect access to the argument. You don't even remember how it started, probably something banal. Beside you, Chopper was reading a book, fully immersed in its pages. You tried tuning out most of the fight.

"You're lucky I don't come over there and kick the shit out of you. I've had enough of your disgraceful behaviour." Sanji growled.

Zoro regarded the blonde with a sneer. “What shit-cook, you gonna cry to mummy about it?”

CRASH. SLAM.

You whipped your head to the kitchen, seeing Sanji staring down the swordsman with barely-contained fury. Blood turning to ice, your breath hitched. You’d never seen the sweet cook look so murderous. There was a fire in his eyes that broke your heart, like it was a glimpse to the true man underneath. You swear you could catch a hint of vulnerability, but he was stamping that down, waves of violent palpable pain rolling off him.

“You know nothing about my mother, so shut the fuck up.”

The silence that flooded the room was suffocating. You flinched, physically feeling how all warmth was sucked from the air. Sanji growled, deep and furious.

“Get the fuck out of my kitchen. All of you.”

“Hey, I didn’t me-” Zoro started weakly.

“Sanji.” You breathed.

“Get. out.” The snarl that rewarded you knocked the wind out of you. Wordlessly you collected Chopper, taking him by the hand and helping him out of his seat. The reindeer looked shocked, tears threatening to spill. You rubbed small circles into the fur above his hoof with your thumb. Sparing him one last glance, you grabbed Zoro by the ear with your free hand, dragging the hissing man. If you purposefully pinched hard, then who was to say. Surreptitiously you flicked your eyes to the cook, but Sanji had his back to you, arms bracing the kitchen counter. His hands were clutching the wood in a vice-like grip, none too gentle. You sighed, hauling the two out of the galley. Softly, you let go of Chopper’s hand and pulled the heavy door closed. Your fingers pinched Zoro’s ear hard one last time, before releasing.

Before the swordsman could open his mouth, you shushed him. “I know. I know, okay, there’s no way any of us could’ve known. Just. Go cool down. It does no good, us being here.”

Zoro’s lips thinned into a blank stare. He muttered out a simple “Yeah,” before turning and leaving the immediate area. With a small nod you crouched down to the small doctor, cradling his little face.

“Hey Chop? It’s okay, okay? He’s gonna be okay. Do you think you could tell the others to stay clear of the kitchen for a while? Maybe you could make something to calm him down?” It was imperative you kept Chopper busy. The cute boy nodded, sniffing back his tears. You ruffled his hat against his head. “There’s our doctor! Thank you sweetheart.”

Once the small reindeer had left you leant against the door, heart breaking. In all your time as a crew, from Merry to Sunny, you had never seen Sanji so upset. Yeah, the man had a temper, but not a severe temper. Sanji could always be calmed down or diverted. It was clear. He was hurt. When you thought about it, you don’t think you’d ever heard Sanji talk about his family. You sat there in silence for a few moments before you heard it.

Tears?

No, fuck that. You don’t care if he banned you all from the kitchen, you weren’t going to let him cry alone. As quiet as you could, you crept back into the galley. Sanji was nowhere to be seen. Impossible. You’d heard him.

“Sanji?” You asked quietly.

The silence of the kitchen was unsettling. You weren’t imagining it, there was an almost imperceivable sniffle. The room felt suffocating, hurt and panic strangling the air. You began inspecting the room, making your way to the kitchen island. That’s when you heard it, a small voice, deep and rasping, but trying so hard to not be heard.

“Please go away.”

Oh.

You peered over the kitchen island to find him. Sanji was curled inwards, sitting on the ground. His knees were drawn to his chest, head lowered. He looked utterly defeated, slightly shaking as he held back tears. Before your brain could even process you had rounded the island at a rate of knots, sliding to a crouch. You held your hands out like you were trying not to startle him. Sanji flinched at hearing you, no, feeling you so close.

“I said go away.”

“I’m not leaving you Sanji.”

“Go. Away.” The mumble that escaped his crying form broke you.

“You would have to kill me for me to leave. Come here.” Sanji ignored you, his arms cradling his own body. A sigh broke its way out of your chest. He looked so small, like a boy trying hard to be brave. The shaking increased in frequency with your words. You couldn’t let him suffer like this alone. “I’m sorry Sanji, but I’m not leaving.”

The man jumped as if electrocuted when you wrapped your arms around him. You took advantage of his surprise, pulling his head against your chest. Sanji struggled, trying to distance himself, but you latched harder. The push and pull continued for a while, until you heard Sanji sigh shakily. He went limp, allowing you to pull him to you, one hand smoothing his hair, the other clinging to his back.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, just let me be here for you.”

That did it. Sanji grabbed at you, wrapping his hands around your back, crushing you. It was a desperate attempt, clumsy and clawing, clear the man was upset. You grunted quietly at the pressure, trying not to startle him. It was quickly apparent you didn’t have to worry about making a noise, as you felt your shirt become damp with tears, Sanji desperately trying to cry quietly. You knew what Sanji was like. It would scare him off if you acknowledged his tears. All you could do was try comforting him, rubbing his back and kissing his hair.

“She’s dead.”

Your breath hitched. No wonder he reacted the way he did. You tried to not feel furious with Zoro, he didn't know, but the anger was still there. Soft sobs permeated the air, each sound chipping at your heart.

"Oh Ji." You sighed, hugging him even harder. He'd have to suffocate soon with how tight you held him, but you noted how he clung to you, as if he was afraid you'd disappear. Sanji's words were clipped and shaky.

"Died when I was a kid. My fault she died, was too weak."

Shock invaded your senses, a freezing feeling travelling through your veins. You weren't sure what he meant, but you knew in your bones there was no way that was right. Sanji always struck you as a sensitive individual, all the more to cement your belief that he wasn't at fault for whatever he was thinking. "No honey, no, that's not true."

“I miss her.” Sanji’s voice was hoarse.

“I know.” You cooed softly, delicately carding your fingers through his hair. "She must have been an amazing woman if she birthed such a wonderful son."

That was the wrong move. It was like a dam burst. Sanji began crying hard, torn between seeking your comfort and escaping. You felt the tendrils of panic surfacing as you watched him struggle to breathe between sobs. Sanji's heart rate picking up, he began shaking in your arms. You watched horrified as he tried to downplay it and seem unaffected, but you knew better.

"Oh, fuck. Ji? Sanji? I'm so sorry. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault, okay?"

Your attempt failed, and you felt Sanji pull away. Shit. Shit, he was having a panic attack. It shattered your heart as you watched him hyperventilate, unable to calm down. Without thinking you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to stare at you.

"Sanji. Honey. Its going to be okay. Breathe with me, okay? In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Try with me. Good." You coached him through, trying to encourage deeper breaths. Sanji's visible eye was bloodshot and frantic, eye flitting between your facial features. You noted his eye was not focused on anything in particular, he seemed distant. His nose was red, no doubt sore from sniffling. Shaky breaths escaped him, and you tried desperately to seem calm. "Eyes on me. Breathe. You're okay, you're here on the Sunny. We're here. You're doing good baby."

Breathe.

Breathe with me.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Sanji crumpled against you once his breathing was finally steady. You cradled him, rocking the two of you gently. You were certain Sanji would prefer to just exist in the silence, but you couldn't help the word vomit that escaped.

"You don't have to go through this alone Sanji. You have us, you have Zeff and the Baratie. You have Nami, and Robin, and Luffy. Usopp, Brook, Franky, Chopper. Fuck even Zoro!" You were rambling, tears of your own escaping. "And me. I'll always be here if you feel overwhelmed. You can't get rid of us Sanji. We love you."

"Why?" His voice cracked. "Why waste your time?"

Sanji froze as you tilted his chin up to stare at him. You eyes were serious and vulnerable. "Time spent with you is never wasted. You are capable of being loved, and I'll be damned if I let you think otherwise."

You watched as Sanji stuttered out a shaky sigh.

"Your mum would be proud of you Sanji." Anxious, you continued. Sanji's breath hitched. "I'm sure she'd see the man I see before me; who's kind beyond a fault, who is sweet and sensitive. Who can cook the most mouthwatering dishes, who protects and cares for those around him. You're a good person Sanji. You need to let yourself believe that."

You were rewarded with a teary smile, one not reaching the eyes. Sanji looked tired, dark under eyes and pale skin. With a smile back, you gestured to get up. The quizzical look he gave you warming your heart.

"C'mon. I'll kick the girls out for a couple hours. You look exhausted, come take a nap with me."

"Oh, no I couldn't. I need to finish making dinner, a-and it wouldn't be right for me to-mmph."

You silenced him with a gentle finger to his lips. "We're mostly adults Ji. One night of subpar food from Usopp's cooking is not going to kill us. Now c'mon."

Sanji let you lead him to the girl's quarters, specifically your bed. He watched where your hand held his, it looked like they were made for each other. In any other circumstance he'd blush and coo over the display, but right now he felt beyond exhausted, a weariness deep in his bones. He weakly protested as you took off his jacket.

"Get comfy. I'll be right back." Your voice was quiet and warm. Sanji wanted to melt. Instead, he nodded and sat down on your bed. In another situation, he might squeal and bury himself in your scent, or be embarrassed at how in charge you were. Instead, he removed his shoes, placing them neatly on the floor near your bed. He sat there awkwardly, eyelids heavy from tiredness and crying.

The door squeaked back open.

"Got you some water and some painkillers. I know I always get a wicked headache after I cry." Sanji gratefully took the pills, knocking it back with the full glass. He didn't realise how parched he was. Slipping your shoes off, you crawled behind him, making yourself comfortable. Sanji could see you spread out on the small bed out of the corner of his eyes. He watched you spread your arms out.

Wordlessly the lanky man laid down next to you, shuffling into your warm embrace. Sanji lightly startled when you pulled the blanket over the two of you, before you closed your arms, hugging him gently. The feeling of your hand back in his hair was comforting, so too was the small humming of Binks' Sake, lulling him gently to sleep. Before he could pass out he nuzzled against you.

"Thank you (name)."

"Anytime Sanji. Get some sleep."

And sleep he did, soon drifting off in your arms. Once you made sure he was fully asleep you frowned. Poor man. He really didn't know how precious he was. His soft snores rewarded you, and you felt your own lids get heavy. You couldn't help it, and so, cradling your own treasure, you fell asleep tangled around him.

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #hurt/comfort #ive bever written hurt/comfort before lmao be gentle #i hAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS MAN #...bruh im actually hella hungry rn #i promise i dont only write whoreknee shit!

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klttn · 18 days

Note

Kill valentino. I don’t care how. Just do it. You know we both want this fantasy to come true

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝒶𝓃

pairing : alastor x f!reader, slight huskerdust if you squint

content!! : mention of abuse, violence, death, no smut

summary : valentino takes it too far both with angel and with you, oh no, now he’s dead. a little drabble for the valentino haters out there.

“ugh i hate him soo fuckin’ much,” angel whines into the pink silk of your bed.

it was three in the morning and angel had only just sauntered in from work, valentino had run him ragged, he was covered head to toe in bruises, bites, rope marks, whips n cuts. you dread to think about all the sick things he’d done to your best friend today.

“i know, angie, im sorry, he’s a prick… even for someone in hell.” you muttered, resting yourself next to him.

“twenty guys, y/n, and there’s nothin i could even do about it!” a small tear slid down angels face as he said it. your heart shattered.

looking up at angel, he saw your eyes start to water, you were trying so hard not to cry but you couldn’t help it. seeing him like this, the hatred you had for val and everything he puts angel through was just too strong. you could just kill him.

“you don’t deserve this,” you say, anger seeping through your voice just enough for him to notice.

angel’s actions wavered, the seriousness becoming too much.

he wiped the salty drop out from under his eye, smile now forming from ear to ear as he adjusted his chest fur, shaking his non existent boobs. “i’m goin’ to the bar," he struts, "the nights only young, if i try my best, i’ll have forgotten about val in the next hour!” he winks at you, trying to put a smile on your face.

please don’t tell me i just made him leave.

before he goes, he leans down and whispers to you, leaving a little kiss on your forehead as he does, “i’ll be okay, yknow.”

“i know,” you halfheartedly smile.

as he walks out your hotel room door, your smile falters. at least you know he’ll be safe with husk. you can rest knowing that. he’ll forget all about val the minute he lays his eyes on the black cat.

it’s just, something needs to be done about that vile moth.

♡ ⋆ ˚ ❀ ｡⋆୨୧ ‘

not much time had past since angel was in your room, just enough for you to be huddled up in the back of a taxi, seething and headed straight to valentino’s exact whereabouts.

you had no idea what you were going to do once you got there, your nails were practically drawing blood with how hard you were digging them into your thighs. fuck valentino.

both angel and alastor would be livid if they knew what you were doing but you know your boyfriend wouldn't have helped. too sloppy and reckless. how dare you let your emotions control you?

you pull up at the place, 'consent' written above the disheveled building, how unfitting for valentino. you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

taking a deep breath, you walk into the bar, a wave of pink tinted smoke radiating lust and floating hearts in the air being the first thing that hits you. composing yourself, you sigh, storming straight for the source.

" VALENTINO!" you screech amongst the crowds of bodies, "we need to fucking talk."

almost immediately, a pathway clears through the smoke and array of sinners, a smug looking pimp following through "now who the fuck do you think you-" he stops. "oh," now he’s smirking, "you’re alastor's little bitch, and a friend of that worthless whore i own."

"his name is angel dust." you spat.

"excuse me?" annoyance evident in his voice.

"I said his name is angel dust, are you deaf as well as blind?"

val clicks his tongue, “i’ll let the sass slide just this once out of courtesy for angel,” he trails, "you know,” he pauses, taking you in, “you're quite a pretty little thing, aren't you?" you scoff, of course the snarky bastard is hitting on you. "such a shame to be wasted with that prude radio demon," you shot him a warning glare. this is not what you came here for.

val leaned closer to your ear and brought his voice to a whisper, testing your patience, "if you were with me, at least id fucking touch you-"

SLAP. you hit him, the harsh noise echoing causing everyone to fall silent, their eyes following the sound to you.

“why you little bi-“

val had barely any time to react or even form a thought other than rage and a balled fist before a gush of wind and red essence placed itself in front of you. protecting you.

alastor. shit.

gradually spawning in, his deer horns protruding, long limbs and black whips growing, eyes glazed over with hatred and that eery sharp toothed smile that always adorned his face.

“i hope you weren’t about to lay your filthy hands on her,” the demonic sound of alastors voice stilling you.

he was scary like this, very few times had you seen his demon form, but never as raw and uncontrolled as this. alastor hated losing his composure, especially in front of you.

"did I make bambi mad?" valentino’s condescending voice broke you from your trance.

a quick look from alastor, his eyes softening by a touch, just for you, had you back to being grounded, he was still your al.

“my doe, would you be a doll and wait outside for me? we’ll discuss your silly little adventure after my arthropod entrée.” he begun, voice heavily static and his tongue darting across his lips. “my little lady should not have to see what I'm about to do to you," he finished, redirecting his attention toward the purple demon.

the last thing you saw before you left was the puff of valentino’s wings as he prepared to fight alastor. “this is for my sweet girl and angel dust.”

oh, val is definitely dead.

A/N : what do we think!!! please share your thoughts!! this is basically free therapy for me after what ep 4 made me feel

#mine ♡#⁺˳✧༚ dolly’s drabbles #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor altruist #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Text

Clown Talk

Yandere Crime Harem + G.N Clown TV-Showhost Reader

Extortion. Aggravated Assault. Murder.

The list went on for the royal who had it all, and lost almost everything in one night.

A well respected and charitable figure in their community, it was a shock to the masses to see local casino owner, and frequent donor to hospitals framed on the five o'clock news for misconduct. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders and a realistic outlook on the world could see straight through the facade. Beneath that mask was a monster - every good deal that person ever committed a cover for their true goals.

Those they had helped plead their innocence. Those they had wronged tied their noose. The documents leaked to the public would tell which party was correct, wiped clean from history before the victor could be declared. Read aloud in court, each word marked a new trial at play. The execution of the rat bastard who got them into this whole ordeal in the first place.

The criminal know exactly who it was. Caught his hand in the cookie jar resembling their safe weeks ago, but they had enough of a heart to let him go for being the one person his little girl had. Not again. Day in and day out they dreamt of how they'd carry out their revenge. Splattering his brains all over the wall. Slicing him into cutlets and having a nice cookout for everyone involved. It was a beautiful dream. The one thing preventing the compete lost of their sanity. Shouldn't be too long now until their people manage to get them out and their hands around that bastard's neck. Only a matter of time-

"Quit mumbling to yourself- I can't hear the TV."

As if this hell couldn't get any worse. A desaturated rainbow flies across the television screen, showering an empty field with stars and hearts that sprout colorful flowers from the earth. The theme song for the show plays in the background; the strums of each guitar string and the voice humming along to the beat drilled into the criminal's head like psychological warfare. While the voice wasn't totally abysmal it still belonged to their greatest enemy. That fucking clown.

"Good Day, everyone! I've missed you all so much, and am so excited to meet all the new faces. Are you ready all for an exciting day of fun and new adventures?"

The few shouts of agreement make their ears bleed more. Needless to say the prison they had been thrown in was a shit hole. Terrible food, hard beds, and televisions that only played one station without interference. That neon haired, colorblock mess of an entertainer had haunted them from day one of their stay; the sounds chasing them whenever they fled to the sanctuary of their cell. Pathetically, while there were a couple naysayers, majority of the prison population had begun to actually like the show. A body hurls into the seat next to them.

"Thank fuck I didn't miss it. You staying this time, Zero?"

Zero's face wrinkles from the frown lines. 4D was a fellow intimate and the biggest fan of the show. A crook booked for various robberies who just like Zero was ratted on by an acquaintance. The nickname came from their tag including the number fourty and they thought it would be cool in unison with the one they forced onto Zero.

"I told you not to call me that."

"I get that you're some big hot-shot and "adults shouldn't be watching shows for kids.", but it's really good when you sit down and watch it. That clown ain't too bad on the eyes either."

Zero resists the urge to snap their fingers as they air quote. "I'd rather flush my head down a toilet."

"Come on! If ya watch it, I'll leave ya alone for the rest of your sentence."

That catches their attention. Armz crossed, Zero looks at the television. The set had switched to that of a kitchen as the clown speaks

"Juno has been feeling better down today, let's cheer him up with his favorite snack! Before we begin, make sure you always ask for an adults help when handing sharp objects or using the stove. Unless you are one yourself. "

With a wink, they throw an apron and go through the steps of making homemade rice treats with the audience. After putting the tray in the oven, they discreetly pull out another one with a full sheet of the treats already made. Marshmallow fluff and melted chocolate chips ooze from their sides as the clown cuts out a heart shaped piece with a cookie cutter.

"And there you go! A simple, fun activity you can do with family and friends, and even get something taste out of it. Juno prefers chocolate, but you can add a number of things to your own and let your imagination run wild."

Great. Now they were annoyed and hungry. They couldn't stand another segment.

"I'm leaving."

4D whines. "Whaaat? That was barely anything. Hey, don't go-"

They grab Zero's sleeve, but are powerless to stop them as they leave the common area and venture up to their room. Over the guard rail of the second floor, they watch the other inmates mindlessly crowded around the television screen and unironically enjoying it. They would've spat at them had it not been for the guard by their cell. Inside the room, their roommate had left the tv on and that same damned show was playing. They go to turn it off only to be cut off by a fake cry of pain.

"Ouch!"

The clown tumbles to the ground, figure looming over them off screen. They come into frame as they grip the clown's arm and helps them to their feet.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, Juno. I know it wasn't on purpose."

The two face the screen as the clown speaks.

"Sometimes our friends do or say things that hurt our feelings. Take a breath, hear them out, but there's one important rule. Remember - forgiveness and friendship aren't always mutual. Sometimes people we may think are our friends go too far, and they believe an apology will make everything okay, but that's not always the case. The best thing you can do is forgive - and let go."

The background music is soft. The clown's smile is sincere, but an offshoot of that silly expression they had moments ago. Forgive. That weasel? There's no way in hell they could. He ruined them. Damaged their imagine. The bitterness Zero held was the only thing that pulled them forward. But what would come after they got their revenge?

"That's all for day, folks! And don't forget- you all may be my helpers, but I am here to help you the most!"

The intimate ends up watching the show until lights out. Each episode holds a new life lesson, cushioned by the silly activites prior to them and the songs the clown and their friends sings at the end. Regrettably, Zero finds their lips twitching upwards and a hushed laugh in their chest at some of the clown's jokes. When the clown visits them in their sleep, the dreams didn't seem as bad as before.

The next day Zero finds 4D in the yard. They're hesitant to speak.

"So... Why exactly do you like that clown?"

4D drops the equipment in their hand, looking flustered. "Wow, uh, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. If it's so embarrassing, I can make it worth while."

4D refuses the cigeratte they offer. "I quit. It ain't nothing serious like that, we just... talked."

Zero raises a brow. "Talked? You some kind of nutcase or something?"

"Maybe, but what I mean is I sent them a letter. After all the rush and freedom of the things I did, I was going mad in here. I got no friends, no family. At the end of every episode there's an address so I thought I'd try and send them a letter. I never expected them to respond. Hell, I thought the guards would tear it up and laugh, but neither of those predictions were true. They... helped me. More than anyone ever had in my life. Even sent me a couple things when I hadn't asked. They're all I have."

4D wipes their face with their sleeve. Zero, unsure, raises their hand to their shoulder, but falls short of a comforting touch.

"..Thanks... Take care."

Zero sits in their cell when the next show comes end. They pen down the address on the screen, wondering if they were really going to go through with this. They write out their letter and hand it off to the only guard they trust.

"What do you do, when you've lost everything."

A response comes in a week's time.

"Hey, there!

First off, I want to say thank you for sending your letter in. From the address and the others I've spoken too, I know that you're going through a really tough time. It's understandable to believe you've lost everything, but there will always be a new ladder to climb to the top so long as you try your hardest. You may be in the dark for now, but the sun will shine again for you some day."

Zero loses track of how many times they read the letter. They can see eraser marks from when the writer rewrote their lines. It was the exact same penmanship as when the clown wrote their name on a drawing they had just finished, clearing out the possibility of it being an assistant on the show. Zero crumples the envelope and throws it in the trash, but tucks the letter under their pillow.

When they are released the following month, they're found sitting in front of the community television.

"Sunshine's beautiful this time of day, isn't it?"

"B...oss, I'm sorry, please."

Zero takes another drag of their cigar as his head is dunked into the freezing waters. The silence makes the scenario one for the books, but for some reason the sun just isn't as bright as it was on those dirty screens. They exhale as the bruised male is brought out of the sea once more.

"I forgive you, and now I'm letting go." They wave to the others on the boat. "Drop him. I don't want to be late for the show."

Arriving at the studio, a whiny voice drills from behind them.

"Aw, man- you got front row seats? Switch with your ol pal. Its the least you can do since I introduced you to them."

#Clown reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere drabble

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ijustwanttoreadangst · 5 months

Text

Never forget

Summery : he will never forget and he will regret the choices he made until his last breath.

NOT EDITED

Angst

~ Aemond Targaryen x fem-OC-Reader ~

8 hours earlier

After everything we have been through why has it come to this? why wasn’t I good enough? I gave him heirs I gave him my body, my soul, my happiness, my life. Why has it come to this? Does he know even know I know if his sins does he even care? Obviously not as he got the woman pregnant.

I get out a half scoff half laugh as tears sting my lower lash line. Shaking my head I stare into the fire that warms this unnervingly cold room and wait, wait on this uncomfortable chair I had told him time and time again to get rid of but was constantly ignored. Has it always been like this? I filling his needs while he ignores mine?

I have to stop my mind from going to the past not wanting to drive myself crazy with everything that has happened. Taking a deep breath I let my tears disappear from my eyes as my face take a new form a look of nothing, void.

It was hours that I waited to hear the unmistakable roar of vhagar but eventually I did, what normally be a feeling of relief and happiness has turned into rage and dread.

It didn’t take him long to rush into our shared chamber concerned with myself and the babe I carry as I did not greet him upon his return. As soon as he set his sights on me he could tell something was wrong.

“My love, are you well? Is it the babe?” He asked concerned but was it really concern or just false pleasantries I did not know anymore. My face still voice of emotion I stood up my large belly making it a difficult but manageable.

“You call yourself a man of duty and honour correct?” I ask getting a confused ‘of course’ in reply making me let out a hmm as I whisper. “Liar.”

“What?” He asked still confused with my hostility towards him. “Alys rivers is with child, I was surprised to hear as she is a bastard but you will not believe what surprised me even more, husband.”

I finally turn to him, his eyes flashing many emotions I knew I had got my answer but I wanted him to admit it admit his infidelity. “What, my love?” His voice cracking trying to conceal his true emotions.

I let out a laugh making his eyes widen. “Oh you will not believe this my heart, a man with white long hair has been spotted numerous times entering and leaving her chamber oh and here is the part that gets me every time I think or hear it whispered that man had an eyepatch.”

My smile wild smile slowly fades into something murderous. The man who prides himself with being untouchable is now backing away from me a girl smaller than him. “Tell me husband doesn’t that discerption sound like someone I know?” I ask finally stopping in my tracks watching him open and close his mouth like the fish from the dock when they get pulled out of the water.

“My love, you must believe me that’s not me! I would never betray you like that.” He tries to convince me.

“How long?” I ask knowing it’s going to bring me heart ache. The white haired man stays silent looking at his shoes. “How fucking long.” I yell wanting the answer I deserve now.

He mumbled a reply but it was so quiet I couldn’t make out what he said. “What?” I ask. He finally looks up to meet my eyes. “From the start.” He said his voice shaking as tears began welling in his eyes.

Realisation dawned on me in that moment the missed birth and name days were because he was fucking her instead of being here with his wife and child. “I hope that when you’re finally happy with this alys rivers and ur bastard child daemon comes and takes it all away.” I said with so much hate in my voice I saw him flinch back. “Get out, go back to your whore for all I care I want you out of my sight.”

His footsteps quickly approach me and before I can pull away the taller man take my arms in his hands. “my love my life please I can fix this. Please don’t push me away. I will do anything, I won’t ever see her or meet the child please I love you.” He begged over my shouts from him to let go of me.

When I finally got free him his iron grip made my way to the chamber door before turning around looking at him. “I am daenyra Targaryen, daughter of daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce. The next time you touch me will be last time you have hands.”

And I left leaving him crumbling in the mess he had created.

4 hours earlier

“Hop up my little love. You can do it.” I encourage my son as I helped him on my dragon before getting up myself. I tightened the saddle straps around baelor and myself before I start giving commands to the black dragon under us.

“Serve me, cannibal. Fly.” I command as he descends off the grown and into the sky. “Take us to dragonstone.” He lets out a growl in acknowledgment as he flys into that direction. It was difficult getting out of the keep without being seen but surprisingly I did it.

I move try to move my body to a angle so I could see the look plastered on my sons face but it being difficult as my pregnant belly in the way but I manage to get glimpses of the wide eyes and the smile that could light up the seven kingdoms.

We weren’t far from dragonstone as the dragon let out a happy roar happy to be going home after all this time. But the happiness was short lived from the thing i have been dreading being followed.

“Daenyra stop please. This doesn’t have to be difficult.” Aemond yelled out as him and his dragon gained on us. My eyes go wide as I start commanding cannibal to fly faster and lose them. Understanding my commands the dragon lets himself drop lower in a way to get them off our tail.

But it didn’t works it made the man chasing us angry as he starts to yell making vhagar return his feeling of anger. But as we fly faster hope filled my heart thinking we lost them.

Oh how wrong I was.

Without warning vhagar flew up in front of us making baelor scream and cannibal turn away from dragonstone and closer to storms end. It felt like déjà vu. The sudden rain hitting my skin like little knives making me hold my son closer to try and keep it from hitting him.

I could tell all of this was scaring my little boy. “Close your eyes my sweet boy, you will be alright mothers got you, you don’t need to be scared while I’m here.” I whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Holding him so tightly as he lays his head back onto my chest while tears flow down my cheeks mixing themselves into the rain. “I love you my sweet boy and you my sweet girl, I will love you forever.”

It felt like forever before it was over. The cries of terror the screams.

Cannibal is a wild dragon and his rider his first rider was threatened he had to protect his rider and the children. the two dragons attacked each other Aemonds and my pleas for the dragons to stop fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t until the wrong move was made Aemond let his anger before consuming his dragon just like what he had done with the tragedy of Lucaerys.

The last thing I saw was the unforgiving sight of dragon fire before it was over. I held my child and covered his eyes not wanting the last thing he sees being so upsetting but at least I can still be with my children just not in the way I wanted.

Now

The sound of cannibals loud pained roars shook the walls of dragonstone.

Daemon stood across the field from the black dragon that is wailing at the loss of his rider and his riders children.

Daemon had never felt like this before the rage and depression that he feels as he gazes at the burnt corpses of his baby, his little girl and grandchildren wasn’t like anything he had ever felt. He knew one thing and one thing only.

Aemond Targaryen will pay and his little girl

Will be avenged

#aemond angst #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #daemon targeryan

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bluemusickid · 10 months

Note

Please write us some jealous pedro

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, a lil angst (you know me lol), feelings of jealousy, unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly kids, wrap your willy), oral sex (f receiving), 18+, minors DNI

Author's note: UFFF I have a jealousy kink (if that's even a thing). Hope you like this anon; ngl i'm a lil rusty and nervous putting out new stuff, heh. Yes ik it's a cliche plot but trust me, it is the BEST trope and I would DIE if this happened to me lmaoooo.

Jealousy. An ugly word, and an ugly emotion. No one wants to be jealous, but it just happens. And when it does, hoo boy. It can either go very right, or very wrong.

Pedro didn't consider himself to be a jealous man. He prided himself on being someone who was secure with himself and his emotions, not allowing malice and grudges to hold him back. He had to, especially in his line of work and the industry he was a part of.

That was until he met you.

You, with your beauty and grace and perfection. He had never met anybody like you, who had turned his world on it's head. Which is why the break up was a shock to him; but he knew in his heart that it was the best step. He was no good for you, and he couldn't give you the time you needed to be properly courted and loved.

But it hurt when you left, when he was told by your friends about how you were broken and hurting. And it hurt him even more when he learnt that you had moved on and begun dating. It was irrational, true, but he felt possessive towards you. You were his and his only and he would do anything to get you back.

Which is how he found himself tucked in the corner of the jam packed club you and your friends were in, partying away. It took a lot of bribing your best friend Ashley, who very reluctantly told you their whereabouts (and also the consequences of hurting you again which involved kicking his ass). At first, he couldn't recognise you at all. A seductress stood in your place, wearing a little black dress which accentuated all your luscious curves. Your eyes were ringed with kohl and your red lips, oh dear God; Pedro nearly came at the mere thought of kissing you and smudging that lipstick. He came here to try to win you back but all he could think about now was fucking you into the next week.

He was just about to set his plan into motion, when a blond haired jackass approached her, placing his hand on the small of her back. Pedro's heart sunk when he thought that it must be your new...guy. But then he saw the look of mild surprise on your face as you took in the stranger, trying to place some distance between the two.

Blond jackass was trying to pull his best moves, flashing those baby blues and grinning at you like a weirdo. He could tell that you weren't interested at all, but simply being polite. Tutting, he was about to take a swig of his drink when he saw the bastard caress your hand, trying to get closer to you.

Although he'd promised himself that he wouldn't intervene just yet and let you enjoy your night, Pedro found himself making his way through the crowd, his focus only on getting to you as fast as he could.

"Hey baby." he crooned softly in your ear, leaving a kiss on your cheek as he put an arm around your shoulder. A subtle way of saying Back off, prick.

Wide-eyed, you stared at him in confusion till it dawned on you what might have happened. You turned to look at Ashley, who wisely averted your gaze and focused on her conquest of the night.

"What are you doing here?" you asked dryly.

"I'm here to party with my girl." he grinned, his eyes sparkling with a teasing glint.

"Well I was just in the middle of talking to this VERY nice gentleman here...umm.."

"Justin." the blond stumbled, a little intimidated by Pedro who was staring daggers at him.

"Justin, of course! We were just about to hit the dance floor before...well, you already know."

Pedro was livid at the thought of you even talking to that jackass, but he couldn't let you know that you were winning at this game. He was determined to ride this out and have you come back to him.

What he hadn't anticipated was that ugly face of jealousy that would pop out of the woodwork as he saw the both of you dancing together, your bodies too close together for his liking. The last straw was when he saw that fucker Justin run his hands over your body, pulling you to him.

Pedro didn't think straight as he strode towards you, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the crowd towards the back exit. He knew that the consequences wouldn't be the best, but he simply couldn't bring himself to care. He needed you, right there, right now.

You found yourself pinned to the wall next to the back exit, his arms caging you in. Staring into his beautiful brown eyes, you see them darken with a mix of emotions. At first, you thought it was pure anger and annoyance, but then it hit you; he was scared. Of what, though? He was the one who wanted to end things in the first place.

"Why?" you softly asked.

"Why, what?" he said, huskily, his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel his eyes on you as you trained your eyes on his wonderful lips, only remembering how they felt on you and how they had the power to bring you to your very knees.

"W..why did you...go..?" you gasped as he softly kissed your cheek, the action felt in your very bones. The man hadn't even touched you properly and you were already putty in his hands.

Running his nose against yours, he left a soft kiss on the other cheek, then on your forehead, your nose, and after a beat, he crashed his lips to yours, derailing your train of thought. Hesitant at first, you found yourself drowning into the kiss, pouring all the hurt and love you felt for him into it. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss turned even more heated. You were disappointed as he pulled away, much too quickly for your liking.

"I had to." he mumbled, his lips making a path from your jawline to your neck. Sighing, you turned your head to give him better access winding your arms around his waist. Warning bells were ringing in your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. He was all you wanted, a breath of fresh air in your life. It nearly crushed you when you'd broken up, and you knew that this was a bad idea. But the way he was leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, his hands roaming over your body, lighting you up from within; it made all your trepidation evaporate as a more volatile emotion took its place: lust. It was coursing through your veins as you pulled his hips towards yours, desperate for some sort of contact.

You could feel his smile against your skin as he hitched your leg onto his hip, his erection pressing into you.

"I'm still mad at you." you grumbled, gasping as you felt him thrust against you.

"I know." he panted "I'm sorry. This is all my fault, and I am truly very sorry. It was the biggest mistake of my life, pushing you away. I want you, need you to know that I can't live another second without you. I love you."

Your heart swelled at that. That was the first time he'd properly said those words to you, and it made you feel 10 feet tall. You beamed, eyes moist with tears.

"Take me home."

--------------------------------------

Pedro was great in bed, something that was a constant in your relationship when you were dating. But a jealous Pedro? Whew.

Gone was the gentle lover who would lovingly stare into your eyes as he made sweet, slow love to you. No, this time, he made you understand the true meaning of the phrase "legs shaking".

It started off as pretty innocent, him hugging you from behind and leaving soft kisses as you tried to open the door amongst all the distractions. As soon as you entered, though, it was like a switch had flipped. You found yourself pinned to the wall next to the door, Pedro's lips crashing against yours. Lips biting, tongues meshing, teeth briefly clashing; it was pure lust in every bit of that kiss.

And now, here you were, on your bed, Pedro's lips still joined to yours as he reacquainted himself to your body, his hands smoothing over you. He had nearly torn your dress off in haste, as you pulled off his sweatshirt, hands moving to his belt. You needed to taste him, feel him on your tongue; it had been so long. But before you could do that, he pushed you back down on the bed as he moved lower, right to your core.

You held your breath as he tore off your panties, his breath quickening seeing your wet folds. To see you as turned on as him, if not more, made him want to bury himself inside you right then and there. But not yet. No, he wanted you to lose your mind. Was it a punishment? No, not really. It was more a reminder.

"Oh, my sweet girl. She's missed me, huh?" he whispered, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. You groaned, your hips canting ever so slightly. He hadn't even made proper contact and you were already sensitive.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm as his fingers circled around your swollen nub. If only you knew how much I need you, babe, he thought as he lowered his mouth to your core.

You gasped as he left a tentative lick before attaching himself to your clit, his fingers moving inside you in tandem with his mouth. You arched your back off the bed as you struggled to keep your legs open; the only thing keeping them from closing were his broad shoulders. You could feel yourself get closer to orgasm, and you were sure that it was going to be intense. And you were right; your walls constricted around nothing as you felt the dam break, a litany of his name leaving your lips as you tried to catch your breath. You looked down at him to urge him upwards, but all you saw was his mischievous grin as he lowered himself to your core yet again, not even giving you time to calm down.

"W..wait..Ped-ro..I c-can't.." you stuttered as his fingers worked their magic on you.

"Yes, baby, you can. Make me jealous again and this is the price you'll pay." he rasped wickedly as his tongue made you see literal heaven. You'd quite frankly lost track of time and the number of orgasms he had coaxed from you, your throat drying up from screaming his name and fingers yanking on his hair. You were sure that Mrs. McNally next door would be nosy and ask you a million questions, but you didn't care.

Pedro kissed his way upwards to your mouth, stroking your hair gently till you caught your breath. Staring into his eyes, you saw pure love and admiration, something you had always craved to see from him. Pulling him to yourself, you kissed him softly, pouring all your love into that one kiss.

Pulling back, he looked at you, silently asking for permission. You reached down between you, pumping him and running a thumb over his sensitive head. He groaned loudly, thrusting himself into your hands as you swept your tongue over him, the salty tang turning you on like nothing else.

Pushing you down, he took himself in his hand as he slowly sunk into you inch by inch, till he bottomed out. The feeling could only be described as out of this world, and the both of you groaned in unison as you became one. Pedro had to concentrate on not coming then and there, as your tight wet heat enveloped him in the best way possible. He began to move slowly at first, and then speeding upto a rhythm that was unlike anything you had experienced before. There was no other way to put it except that he was pounding you into the mattress. You moaned loudly, fingernails scratching his back as you bit onto his earlobe, trying to contain your feelings of extreme pleasure.

Sitting up, he pulled your hips off the bed hitching your legs over his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts. You yelped, the sudden position change making you see stars. He was hitting your g-spot square on, to the point where you couldn't even distinguish between pleasure and pain.

"This pussy is mine. This body is mine, YOU are mine, you understand?" he growled through gritted teeth. "No one gets to look at or touch what's mine."

"Seeing you in that little dress tonight; it took all of my self control not to throw you to the ground and fuck you in front of those men, just to show them who you belong to. To show that blond jackass that only I can fuck you this good."

You whined, his words going straight to your core. Your legs were shaking, and you weren't sure if you could take another orgasm, but it seemed that Pedro had different plans for you in store.

He bent forward, pushing your legs back till your knees met your chest. You yowled, yanking on his hair as you approached your peak, legs shaking and quivering. You screamed something unintelligible as you reached your apex, your walls squeezing Pedro, who grunted at the feeling.

"You feel so good, sweetheart. Like silk. Makes me never want to leave this tight pussy." he rasped.

You could sense that he was close too, as you wrapped your legs around him, urging him on. He moved urgently, his hips a blur as he reached his end explosively, pouring himself into you. He moved inside you slowly, till every last drop poured out. He collapsed on you wearily, tucked into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings.

There was nothing said as he spooned you, holding you as your body still trembled from all the stimulation. There would be lots of time to talk tomorrow. But for today, you silently thanked the green eyed monster.

-------------------------------------

A/N: EEEEEEEP I FINALLY DID IT YEAAAH BABEHHH. To say i'm nervous would be the understatement of the century, but I truly hope y'all liked this. Reblogs go a looong way, so pls do reblog if you liked this! Love and hugs to all!

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pettyprocrastination · 11 months

Text

The Deathly Devout

Pairing: Executioner!König x Nun!Reader (Medieval au)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Religious themes and settings, talk of death, religious guilt, nothing much this is pretty tame. I have very little knowledge of how catholic confessionals actually go especially in a medieval setting forgive me. probably many spelling errors im sorry.

Author’s Note: was talking to @thesadvampire about @hffhifjou fucking amazing art of the 141 as knights and now we have Executioner!König. This is mostly just a word burst from this morning but I really like this concept and wanted to share with you all

Tagging some mutuals I think might enjoy this: @sprout-fics @humanransome-note @moondirti @fnny-bnny @yeehaw-djarin @captainsamwlsn

_______________--

It was quite amusing to see the executioner in the confessional booth.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t visit often, no. If anything it’s the exact opposite, Father Montomgery sees him more than any pious banker or self-hating gambler in the city. But the man was monstrous, broad in his shoulders with thick arms and legs to match, resulting in him having to twist and fold his body to properly fit into the little wooden booth. He could see the silhouette of the poor man’s shoulders hunched in and head tucked low.

It almost made up for how absolutely aggravating he was to listen to.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

“May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you know your sins and trust in his mercy.”

König swallows.

“I killed a man this week.”

The priest, knowing this voice better than others and the hulking silhouette it belongs to, sighs.

“The thief, then?” He asks, voice dripping with indifference. “The little painter who was caught stealing?”

“Yes father.”

The “little thief” has been a blossoming apprentice under a most respected artist within the city, only for the truth to come out that he had been stealing funds from his mentor for months on end. The king had suggested König simply cut off the painter’s hands and let him live out the rest of his days in poverty. “What better punishment for an artist than a life where he cannot create?”

But the end ruling was for the artist to lose his head in the town-square and König’s hands delivered the blade to his neck.

“That was simply an act of your work, my child.”

“But-”

There is a deep sigh from the opposite side of the booth and König falls silent, like a scolded child.

The irony isn't lost on the priest, that a man who must associate himself with the macabre so often is incredibly devout in his worship. But the humor was drowned out by how astonishingly self-loathing the poor bastard was.

“My child, do you believe our king is the one true king?”

“Of course father.”

“And do you believe our God is the one, true, God?”

There’s a garbled noise that comes from the larger man, an incredulous sputtering at how the priest would ever assume he would say otherwise.

It makes the man chuckle.

“Of course father!”

“Then acting out the King’s law is acting out God’s law, is it not?”

There’s a pause, the priest can see the man shrink down into his seat even further, if that was even possible with how he contorted the bulk of his body to squeeze into the wooden booth.

“I’m not saying you cannot feel-” He waves his hand in the air, despite the fact that König cannot truly see him. “-conflicted, about your career. It’s not one that comes easily, I’m sure. But it is not one that makes you a monster, despite how many people would try to have you believe that.”

“Yes father.”

The man’s voice is a shred of what it should be- all but a trembling whisper that makes even the exhausted priest frown.

“Being an executioner isn’t an easy job. But it’s one that is needed nonetheless.”

König says something softly to himself, but the priest cannot be bothered to ask what.

“For your sins I-”

“Actually, father-” the wooden step creaked under his weight as he shifted on his knees. “There’s something else.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been having impure thoughts about a woman.”

“Oh.”

The priest blinks. He had never heard the man speak of any sin aside from the violence he acted out on the King’s word. Truth be told he had begun to think the lad was so devout such a concept was all but foreign to him.

But this?

“I’m listening, my child.”

This was far more interesting than listening to him bemoan about a town square beheading.

“She is-” König chews on the inside of his cheek, chipped teeth digging into the formed scars he has had since childhood from the nervous habit. “Promised to somebody else.”

The priest hides a snicker behind a well placed cough.

“Married?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“I haven’t…acted upon them.” The man who has killed week after week fiddles with his hands, face turning bright red as simply speaking of his attraction toward the woman. The priest couldn't help but wonder who she was. Whether it be a kind tavern girl who ignored his gaze each day he walked by or a local prostitute that urged on his affection as long as he could afford her time.

It’s no secret that few women would concern themselves with the local executioner, if not even look him in the eyes.

“She’s a good woman of proper virtue, I would not sully her name in such a way.”

This poor bastard.

“Is she beautiful?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The woman you speak of, do you find her attractive?”

König swallows. “Yes, incredibly. Her smile rivals that of the sun and-”

“That’s more than enough.” The priest grins into his hand as the airy tone the executioner’s voice took on, like a poet reciting his latest venture. The man was properly lovesick, how charming. “I do not believe you have committed any sin in appreciating a woman’s beauty.”

“I haven’t?”

“Admiring a woman’s beauty is like admiring a piece of art, is it not?” The priest offers. “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands, my child.”

Before König has a chance to respond, through the lattice he sees a flash of white through the corner of his eye. A soft voice humming a tune fills the air, echoing through the church hall like a well-respected hymn. In a panic, König begins to stand his full height before he is halted in his tracks as the top of his head slams into the confessional roof.

“My son?”

“Ah, apologies father! But I have to leave because of-”

The priest nods. “Yes, yes of course.You are absolved of your sins, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.”

The final word is drowned out by the slam of the confessional door opening the man’s thundering footsteps receding from the booth.

The executioner stands to his full height as he exits the church. He shields his eyes as he steps outside, suddenly overwhelmed by the burst of sunlight.

In his haste, he did not see the figure at his side.

“Good morning to you, König.”

The man jumps, twisting around to face you where you stand at the bottom church steps, broom in hand and a smile on your face.

“Ah! Yes! Good morning to you as well, sister.”

“A lovely day, is it not?”

Heat creeps up the back of his neck and he struggles to find the words he wished to speak to you. But you, ever patient and kind, wait without judgment.

“Yes, quite lovely.”

As König stares down at you, his heart beating as he watches the sun shine on your figure and your smile, he finds himself thinking of the Holy Father’s words.

“You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands”

What beautiful art indeed.

#executioner!König #könig x reader #König x you #König x female reader #the priest is like. super chill because König comes in EVERY WEEK and hes like YES i KNOW YOU KILLED SOMEBODY WHATEVER MAN #but also said priest is most likely corrupt and gambles and takes bribes and shit. so he doesnt really give a fuck #but anyways. konig big soft for nun gal #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x female reader

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icarustypicalfall · 5 months

Text

Hallway

Phillip Graves x Fem!Reader

MASTERPOST

Summary: Based on MW3, where you give the Arrogant Commander a cold shoulder as he teams up with your unit in the purpose of catching the bad guys.

Warnings: Cod usual violence, based on MW2 and MW3, mentions of Graves betrayal.

"Each day you rise with me , know that I'd gladly be the Icarus to your certainty."

Graves had returned.

The enthusiasm was tainted by the memories of his past actions. There was a time when he had almost taken the lives of everyone in the room. The tension was palpable during the call with General Shepard, and it lingered in the base as everyone awaited his arrival.

During his absence, you had been on a side mission. You never truly believed that Graves had died, knowing that he was not the type to go down so easily. If he were to meet his end, it would be in a more dramatic and tragic way, perhaps with a dagger piercing his heart, just as he had pierced yours when he nearly killed your teammates. Despite your disdain for the man, you couldn't help but longe for his presence. He relished in the power he held over you, ordering you around and demanding extra gym sessions to "maintain your strength".

Graves was back, "the American bastard" if you ask Gaz and an "the arsehole" as Soap added. Captain, unable to contain his contempt, had burnt half of his cigars to prevent himself from snapping the man's neck every time he opened his mouth. Ghost, true to his name, shot Graves his usual icy glares, though fortunately they were not lethal, or else Graves would already be rotting in hell.

Graves hadn't changed a bit. He still served that smug demeanor and spoke with a southern drawl that he seemed to inject into every word that fell from his lips. He smirked shamelessly, his eyes fixated on you before he confidently asked, "Missed me, darlin'? I know you did." Your heart tightened at his words, torn between wanting to slap him and kiss him senseless. However, you managed to maintain a neutral expression as he continued, "Where's my welcome back, sugar?"

Gaz, clearly unimpressed, intervened and pushed you away from Graves, dismissing his extended hand for a handshake. "Shove it up your arse," Gaz retorted, unyielding in his dislike and anger for the man.

Graves had been captivated by you ever since he joined TF141. You were a remarkable young woman, fierce and unafraid to speak your mind, earning the respect of your superiors. He couldn't help but feel drawn to you, despite his annoying smugness. His attempts to gain your attention often manifested as mockery and taunting. Deep down, he longed to hold you close and feel your touch. However, when you began to warm up to him, betrayal struck, driving a wedge between you.

He was determined to repair that breach.

"Aren't those weights a bit heavy for you, darlin'?" Graves remarked, his eyes fixed on you as you let the barbell fall to the ground. You hadn't even noticed his presence, so focused were you on your workout. Your chest tightened, reminiscing about the old days when he would taunt and annoy you. Though you had promised yourself to ignore him completely, he had broken your heart once, and you couldn't afford to let him reopen those wounds.

You ignored him, shooting him a cold glare before lifting the barbell once again. Graves smirked, amused by your icy demeanor. It was a challenge for him to see how much he could push you before you broke down and let your guard down. He relished in getting under your skin, even though it pained him not being able to approach you in any other way.

The room was thick with the scent of sweat and the heat of intense concentration. It was deathly silent, save for the sound of your shallow breaths and light paintings.

Graves stood there, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on you like a predator stalking its prey. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke with a mockingly confident tone, his southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "You're hurting your hands, sweetheart. You're meant to look pretty and keep quiet, not fight men three times your size," Graves added.

Your eyes gleamed with a surge of adrenaline. You turned to face him, dropping the heavy barbell and walking towards him with a fiery glare. You snapped, your words laced with a fiery passion, a storm threatening to consume his very existence. "Want to see what these hands can do too?"

Graves smirked, folding his arms and exuding an air of confidence and arrogance. Yet, there was something else in his gaze. He yearned for your attention, scanning your figure from head to toe, as if watching you train or work countless times wasn't enough to memorize every inch of your skin. "Yeah, I'd love to find out," he replied eagerly.

In a swift motion, you tripped him up and landed a light punch, causing him to fall to the ground. The smirk never left his face. You pressed your knee against his ribcage, applying slight pressure as a warning. "I wouldn't hesitate to knock you out if you say something like that again," you warned, your voice filled with determination.

Graves let out a sharp gasp, feeling the weight of your presence pinning him down. His body tensed, his blood racing through his veins. He couldn't help but revel in the fire burning in your eyes. "I suppose I crossed a line, darlin'," he rasped, his voice low.

As you moved away, returning to your workout, Graves took a deep breath. He couldn't help but yearn for you even more, despite the cold shoulder you gave him. His eyes followed the contours of your body as you worked on the pulldown machine. Leaning against the wall, he shamelessly continued to stare, captivated by your every move.

He made no attempt to conceal the desire burning within him as he glanced over at you. Despite the potential risks of breaking a few rules and facing the consequences, he mustered the courage to speak up.

"Wouldn't you appreciate my help, darling? You seem quite confused."

You let out a sigh, raising an eyebrow as you observed the man. His face displayed an assured smirk that hinted at a superiority complex. His lips curled slightly, forming a subtle, knowing smile that added to the smugness radiating from his countenance. Clutching your water bottle, you muttered in frustration.

"Don't you have meetings or reports to attend to instead of wasting my time?"

"It won't take me long to finish those reports and meetings. Care to swing by my office and see for yourself?" Graves added with a teasing wink.

Your attempts to ignore him only fueled the fire burning in his heart and warming his soul. He folded his arms, leaning back against the wall as he watched you gather your belongings. A slight twinge of pain coursed through him, not wanting you to leave.

"Just leaving me here like that, sweetheart? You didn't even say goodbye."

"Why would I?" you scoffed, walking past him.

The scent of your perfume tormented his senses, and he found himself staring at the open door in shock. He followed you, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over him.

Why were you so distant now?

He longed to hold you, to kiss you, to embrace the burning sensation he felt. He called out your name, trying not to let his voice betray the desperation that consumed him.

"Darling, I..." Graves spoke softly, his eyes filled with pain.

You let out a sigh, finally stopping in the middle of the hallway. You didn't turn around, ensuring he wouldn't see the fire in your chest or the pain etched all over your face.

Graves experienced a mixture of emotions. His pride yearned to command you, to force you to face him and express your emotions. But he knew it was a losing battle, considering you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks. No one had ever treated him this way. He commanded, watching your calm figure in front of him.

"Look at me," he whispered, and you could swear you heard a hint of shyness and shame in his words. "Please...?"

You faced him, the venom and pain mixing in your heart, extinguishing any other emotions that remained in your mind.

"Of course, Commander. Why wouldn't I look at the man who once betrayed us?"

Graves gritted his teeth, his emotions in turmoil as anger and guilt battled within him. He was so close yet so far away, feeling himself being pulled towards you.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Graves finally met your eyes, his blue orbs filled with both desire and pain. A bittersweet serenity enveloped you both.

"You want me to acknowledge you as if you hadn't done anything. You've lived a long life, yet you still have no clue about the consequences of your actions."

Graves took a deep breath, his anger resurfacing, accentuated by his southern drawl, making him sound even more threatening.

"That was an order from Shepard. We had to take the base to ensure we could find the terrorists and make sure there were no survivors. As for Alejandro..." Graves hesitated for a moment but decided to be as honest as he could. "We were following orders. I didn't have a choice."

"They trusted you. I thought I could trust you," you whispered, your eyes piercing him with a cold, angry gaze.

Graves fell silent for a moment, feeling the sting of your words pierce his heart like a dagger. He cleared his throat before muttering, his tone tinged with weariness.

"I had to make choices I didn't want to. I couldn't refuse, not when hundreds of lives relied on me. Refusing meant their death. Someone had to die. This is war."

"Next time he asks you to bomb our base, you'll comply, won't you?" you challenged.

Graves's heart sank as you spoke. He hesitated for a few moments, trying to find the words to answer, but he had nothing to defend himself with. He spoke in a tired, exhausted tone, the fire that once burned within him now extinguished.

"No," he paused, his tone quiet and filled with despair. "I would rather end my own life than hurt a single hair of you."

Your head snapped up, confusion evident in your eyes. "What do you mean?"

Graves couldn't bear your cold words any longer. He turned away from you, his shoulders slumped as emotions began to overwhelm him. In his mind, he replayed all the moments he was forced to hurt and kill. His past and the pain he had caused were eating away at his soul. His voice was weak when he spoke, his Southern drawl a mere echoGraves couldn't hide his burning desire as he looked at you. Despite the potential risks and consequences, he mustered the courage to speak up.

"Nothing is more precious to me than you. I requested your captain to send you for gathering intel before my mission. I knew Shepard would use you as a threat, and my soldiers would try to detain you. Dralin, you are my only weakness, and I wish for nothing more than to protect you from harm," Graves said quietly, unsure if he was speaking to himself or to you.

You were completely shocked, taken aback by his words.

Was this his confession? What had you done to cause such a reaction from the usually composed commander?

Your mere presence seemed to have pushed him to the edge. But if it meant that you will embrace him and kiss away his sorrows, he was willing to accept that fate.

Graves continued, guilt evident in the way he cupped his left elbow. "Shepard is... influential. There was no time to ask for help. Besides, it was just me and my team against that army." He turned to look at you with a solemn expression. "It was impossible to fight them and survive..."

You looked down, your hand hesitantly reaching for his calloused palm, gently cupping it in your own. You squeezed his scarred flesh, silently murmuring.

"I believe you..."

Graves' gaze remained fixed on you. The warmth in your voice and your attempts to comfort him stirred something deep within his heart. He stepped closer to you, speaking softly.

"I was afraid of losing everything... I couldn't bear to imagine what would have happened to all of you if I had chosen to side with you instead of Shepard." Graves whispered, his words sounding like a confession.

Standing before you, he felt vulnerable. The touch of your cold hand in his made shivers run down his spine, reminiscent of the feelings of young love. Graves had fallen for many women, but none had ever made him lose his mind and experience the intoxicating bliss that you brought to his life.

"I'm sorry, darlin, my decisions are never perfect... I have blood on my hands... so much blood... I just..." he murmured, his head lowered and his eyes downcast.

Summoning the little courage you had, you brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen on his face and leaned in to join your lips together. At first, he was still, shocked by the gesture, but soon his warm lips met yours, and the two of you became lost in a passionate embrace. It was enchanting, like two intertwined swans, their souls merging into one.

As you pulled away for a breath, your lips still lingering close to his, his hand cupped the back of your head, gently stroking your locks.

"I forgave you... a long time ago..." you whispered against his lips. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed a genuine smile, not the usual smug grin or fake laugh. It was a smile that only appeared when you complimented his hair or his skills.

He hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest, seeking solace in the curve of your neck. Finally, he let go of all the painful emotions that had been eating away at his soul, allowing you to embrace him and experiencing a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a long time.

You kissed until you were breathless, leaning against the wall and savoring the eternal elixir of each other's lips. It was a divine moment, shared in the empty hallway.

Graves cupped your face, a smile spreading across his flushed features, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Nothing else mattered to him now. Once a sorrowful man, believing he had lost everything, he had come back to life with you in his arms. Your sweet face smiled softly as you continued to kiss him, over and over again.

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