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jojikawa · 5 months

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Sukuna’s Vessel, Yuuji Itadori.

Your time as Sukuna’s wife was a small blip in time. Something you nearly forgot until a pink-haired boy tries to talk to you

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness) if this does well I will make multiple parts.

masterlist

Art by icebuko

Was inspired by this scene from RWBY. dividers

You have already adjusted to your life in this world. It was hard to know if this is what you enjoyed or not but there was much less violence and a lot more excitement and love…You figured the mundane life suited you better. You became interested in the culture of Japan, you taught yourself its current traditions and you learned to be an elementary school teacher. No idea of why you were resurrected in this modern age came to your mind, but all you could do was live. Although, for years upon years, you felt like something was missing, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Just when that feeling was beginning to fade, you met a particular boy. You stood in the spring rain with your transparent umbrella, dressed in business casual as you helped your young, toddler students cross the busy street. Silently, you desperately tried to shield the babies from the harsh rain and cold air. The children scattered, going on their way back home using the routes you taught them so that they could be fast.

“Um, excuse me…?”

It was the boy you had seen before. He was young, probably a teenager. You noticed him stalking you for a bit now. What could he have wanted from you?

His hair was an unnatural color, maybe dyed. His uniform wasn’t anything like you had seen before and on his feet were painfully red shoes that hurt your eyes. Truly the sense of style for a young boy in this age fashion.

“Yes?” You turned around to look at the boy. He was visibly nervous but you tried to comfort him with a welcoming smile. As you examined him, you got a sense of familiarity.

“Are you….(y/n)?”

You blinked for a moment. Could this have been an older sibling of one of your students?

“I am.” You replied. “Is there…something you want to speak to me about?” You tilted your head and he became increasingly restless under your watchful eyes. “Can we talk in private?” The boy asked politely. You looked down at your watch. It seemed you had time before you needed to go home to prepare your lesson for the next day of teaching.

You humored the boy. The two of you walked to a nearby park where he told you his name and his occupation. He told you why he was going to school. If what he was told was true, you should already know about curses and sorcerers. He also asked you questions.

Yuuji asked things like if you had a family. What have you been doing with your time? But then he asked who you were and if you loved anyone.

You found it rather inappropriate that someone so young and strange to you was asking about your personal life.

Now, the two of you sat on the bench. The rain eased to a drizzle and you began to enjoy the little time you had left with the boy. “Why does who I may love matter to a boy like you? You should be into girls your own age.” You joked, closing your umbrella and leaning it against the edge of your wooden seat. Yuuji blushed at your comment and raised his hands before shouting. “N-No, it’s not like that! I was asking f-for a friend!”

“A friend?” You repeated, raising your eyebrow slightly. You couldn’t recall anyone who wouldn’t be interested in you. “Well, I am going to need to get going.” You told him. “Dinner’s calling me and I have to grade my student’s tests.” You smiled kindly, beginning to stand before the boy suddenly stopped you. He grabbed the sleeve of your attire before uttering:

“Are you really the wife of Ryomen Sukuna?”

Your mouth opened to speak. You felt the world stop and it was like you couldn’t feel the rain on your skin anymore. That was a name you haven’t heard forever.

“Who told you that name?” Your ability to make Yuuji feel calm was soon diminishing. Yuuji didn’t reply at first. His eyes darted from you and often looked to the right as if he were in thought. He would hold his head but never made an effort to mention why he was behaving so erratically.

“I guess that means you are her.”

Your face eased. “So, I assume that you have revealed yourself to me because you plan to kill me like what happened hundreds of years ago or so?” You tilted your head before giving him a closed-eyed smile. “Huh?? Oh, N-No, of course not. My sensei doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Then…who sent you?” You sat back down by Yuuji. The boy didn’t answer you. His gaze broke from yours. “Yeah, Yeah, I’m getting to that!” He muttered but rather loudly. The boy didn’t seem to be talking to you.

He then turned his full attention to you again. “How did you meet Sukuna?” His question was innocent but it held unimaginable weight. “First,” You raised a finger. “How do you know that name?”

Yuuji shoved his hands into his pockets. “School.” He lied…half lied.

“They’re teaching you about him at your school…? Gods…” You sighed softly. “I knew Sukuna a long time ago but my story goes beyond him. I’m much older than him, you see.” You looked down at your black pumps. It was expected of you to wear this for your job. You suddenly felt the pressure of walking in them all day and kicked them off just a bit.

“Older?”

You nodded. “I was actually the first woman. I was the first wife of Adam. You know who that is?” You broke your gaze with the ground to see that the boy was staring at you rather intently. Was he even listening? He wasn’t even blinking. “Yuuji.” You called, ripping him from his daydream.

“H-Huh? Oh, Adam? Um…” He thought for a moment before shaking his head. You smiled. “It’s okay if you don’t. It’s more of a Western tale…” Your manicured nails dug into the soft wooden chair. “Adam was a jerk.” The frown you held was small but behind it was an anger that only the Gods could fathom.

The boy’s ears perked up. “Oh, like Adam and Eve! You’re Eve!” He looked as if he had hit the lottery with a guess that good. But…

You laughed again. “No. Eve came after me. She was the more obedient wife. I’m often erased from history.” Your posture eased and you leaned your back against the bench. “Ryomen Sukuna was the only man that ever loved me. And that I loved back.” Your heart rate quickened thinking of your lover. “You humans know him as a horrible threat…which is true.”

“But I was a horrible person too. We were horrible together…my Ryomen.” You said his name so breathlessly. It was so long ago but you replayed your favorite moments with him. There was no harm in talking about Sukuna, right? He was long gone so this boy’s superiors couldn’t have been targeting you for any reason. You enjoyed pretending to be a human. This wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Yuuji didn’t say a word. He hid his eyes from you, sinking further into his jacket. Without saying much of anything, you effortlessly humanized Sukuna. It didn’t make the boy feel any less hostile toward the King of Curses but it did give him insight into what kind of person he was. He had a soft spot for at least one person. Without warning, he sat up straight. “Um…would you say you still loved him?”

Normally, you would be put off by such a question, but you were already deep in this conversation. Your eyes wandered to the people entering the park here and there. They pushed their kids in strollers and walked their dogs. The sound of the cars driving behind you was painstakingly loud as you tried to think of the past. You answered. “Yes, I do.”

Suddenly, Yuuji erupted with activity. The way he pulled his hood over his head and turned away from you concerned you. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” You leaned over going to rest a hand on your shoulder when you heard muffled speaking. “Yuuji—”

“I-It’s nothing! ‘Just cold, sorry!” He blurted out, causing you to recoil back. “I see…”You replied, going back into your place. “I wonder what ever happened to Ryomen.” You looked down at your watch. It was time for you to go now.

“I know where Sukuna is.”

“What?” The corner of your mouth instinctively raised into a smirk but your eyes were wide as saucers. “I didn’t peg you as a prankster but I suppose I should’ve expected it.” Your tenseness eased, before shutting your eyes and laughing to yourself. Sukuna? Here? No, that surely wasn’t true. The world would be in ruin if he were.

“I’m serious!” Yuuji then proceeded to explain to you his unique situation that involved him swallowing your lover’s fingers and, in turn, bonding them together. You still didn’t know what to believe. It almost made you angry…you somehow felt that perhaps, sorcerers were watching you, waiting to see if you’d break your masquerade as a human if they convinced you that he was alive.

You clenched the handle of your umbrella as it lay beside you. “If Sukuna is really inside of your body, then let me speak to him.” You were….half serious. You wanted so badly to just hear his voice again, even if he were saying something vulgar or pure evil. Or to just know if this was all a trick. Yuuji rubbed the nape of his neck. “I can’t really do that. Not in public, he might—”

“He won’t.” You interrupted. “I’ll make sure he won’t do anything.”

Yuuji had no choice but to trust you. For the last day, he’s had Sukuna yelling at him so loudly and often that he wasn’t able to tune it out like always. For a moment, Yuuji stopped resisting Sukuna’s pull on him, allowing the curse to take over his body. There was a familiar set of markings that appeared on his body and face. The amount of joy, confusion, and concern that filled your body was undeniable.

Although your Ryomen Sukuna was in front of you, trapped inside the body of a boy, you felt like it was a trick. Maybe it wasn’t sorcerers casting a spell on your mind. Perhaps it was God punishing you one last time or it was Adam trying to take one last jab at you before you experienced true death.

Once you laid eyes upon Sukuna, it still looked as if Yuuji had control. His eyes were like that of a dear in headlights while his face was full of admiration.

“Ryomen?” You called his name, causing the vessel he was in to flinch. His eyes then turned serpent-like. They were eyes you knew very well.

“It seems as though you have been resurrected.” He rested his head on his palm, those same eyes wandering your body, staring shamelessly at your chest area and thighs. “But you can never be too sure. How do I know you’re real?” He fidgeted more in his seat—more than Yuuji actually. He tapped his foot on the ground, drummed his fingers on his leg, and even sank his nails into his jawline out of anticipation.

The question caused you to blink. “You’re asking me if I’m real—?”

“Hurry. You have—” His gaze shifted downward for a brief moment before it went back to you. “—less than 60 seconds. If you can’t answer me, I’ll kill you and be done with it. Tell me what I said to you the first time we met. Only I and the real (y/n) know of this.”

Your mouth curled into a pleasant smile. You turned your hips towards him. “I’m not scared of a little monster like you.” You locked eyes with him. “When I met Ryomen, the first words to me were ‘You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’ And I said, ‘I think the Gods would disagree.’ He laughed in a way I would never forget before telling me: ‘Give me a son and I’ll give you the world.’”

Sukuna was unmoving. His antics completely stopped and he listened. So silent…it was unlike him. You continued.

“I was devastated when he asked that of me. I said ‘I can not have a child. My womb is corrupt.’ And so he vowed to make—”

“Shit, it really is you.” The words pour out of his mouth like a waterfall. “It’s been so long. I thought I would never see you again. What are you doing living a mundane life with mortal scum?!” He cursed and threw out his insults, not even caring about the poor humans who walked by and were forced to listen to him. You smiled attractively. “I kinda like this ‘scum’” You replied, mimicking his voice so well you sounded like a female version of him.

“What happened to your body? Why are you burrowed away inside of a child?” Your head tilted with curiosity. His vessel was much smaller than before although, it was nice seeing what he’d be like as a human and not a monster.

Sukuna parroted the same thing Yuuji did, confirming the truth. The boy ate his finger.

“…but once I return to full power, I’ll make the Gods pay for what they did to you.” He wanted nothing more than to just reach out and touch you. It’s been so long since he’s seen you…since he’s heard your voice. Hundreds and hundreds of years of his consciousness lingered beyond his execution and his only thought was you. Even then, aspects of you had faded in his memory. Where were your horns and claws? Did you even have either of those? You had a sword too? No? Oh, he couldn’t remember but one thing that did stick with him was your presence. Sukuna could track you like a bloodhound and find you at every corner of the earth.

“The Gods wouldn’t care about you, Ryo.” A dry laugh left your lips at his awestruck face. “They don’t even care about me…but Adam—will return. You’ll be good to me and kill him, right?” Your sweet smile turned into a smirk, your eyes turned warm and filled with lust. Sukuna picked up on your subtle cues, his mouth going from slightly agape to a twisted, toothy grin. “I’ll bring you his head, I swear!”

“Hm.” Your eyes lit up with enthusiasm. You couldn’t help but rest your palm on his cheek. Yuuji’s skin was much smoother and softer than Sukuna’s monstrous features. “…and if you objectify me again, I’ll obliterate you.” Your manicured nails grazed his skin, threatening to pierce the vessel’s skin at any moment.

Sukuna was confused—not afraid. He hasn’t wronged you so why are you threatening him? It was then that he noticed your eyes. They glowed red.

That’s right, you were rather observant. His hungry eyes were already sexualizing in every way possible.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sukuna replied, his wide demonic grin returning to his soft features. “Ya know, if you want, you can have me right now.”

Your eyes softened before you exhaled. “In that body?” You chuckled. “Maybe when it matures a little.” Your words made his smile fade and his nose scrunch up in disgust. “Who cares how old this vessel is?! It’s ME!”

“And you’re a bit short for my liking.” You fake pouted before letting go of his face. Upon instinct, he rubbed the claw markings you left behind. “I’m still taller than your small ass. You women are so picky with your size kinks.” he spat, rolling his eyes. “Next, you’ll ask me to put the world in your hands. And what do you bring to the table, huh?”

“Myself.” You replied before placing an innocent kiss on his cheek.

“Then, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stick around.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #Sukuna x demon reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff

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calisources · 2 months

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𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

Sentences were taken from different sources of literature that depict dark romance, these include possessive language, jealousy, power trips, some kinks, innuendos. Some sentences are tamer than others, please use wisely. Change names, pronouns and locations as you see fit. This meme is not safe for all audiences, as it contains adult themes.

Cara is mine, and only mine.

You didn’t seem to be in any danger when you were being my good, little girl.

A crush? I had consumed at least three of that woman’s bodily fluids, as she had mine.

I worship you.

Very, very bad girl.

So you admit it, I make you scream.

See, my sweet gift? I knew you’d f/cking come around.

My beautiful, sweet gift. I am forever lost in you.

Let me heal those wounds and soothe that ache.

I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this.

In this fucked up world of ours, we're meant for each other.

I may have broken you, but know that you've broken me just the same.

Let me free you of the constraints of virtue. Better yet, free yourself.

You're supposedly protected by god, but here you are fucking the devil.

Like this you are powerful. Learn what it is to command the attention of a god.

I need you to take me the way you want me.

I hope you never forget about me and that the thought of me haunts you for eternity.

I was born to be your god, born with the power to make you do what I want.

You've captivated my soul and breathe life into me.

No escaping. I told you I'd never let you go.

I am a poison that all of humanity must fear.

You ruined me and I can’t be bothered about it.

I forgot how good you taste.

Real men get their girls nice and ready first.

This girl. She’s living, walking art. And she’s mine.

Do you want me on my knees?

You’re a bad man and you do bad things. You will always do bad things. But not to me.

You are painfully beautiful, do you know that?

Every time you look at me, it feels as if you start a wildfire inside my heart

Such a perfect girl you are, put on this world just for me.

I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop.

You forgot I was a siren.

I just wanted to keep you forever.

I have missed you for so long. And now you are in front of me, but you’re afraid to touch me.

There can never be anything in the world that would hurt me more than when you left me.

I don’t know if I want to cry or if I want to scream or if I want to fucking kiss you.

Christ, I wish you could see yourself. You look otherworldly.

I used to smell your dirty shirts when you weren’t looking.

In order for me to fuck you, I’m going to need you to be healed first.

How I’ve missed that filthy mouth.

What else did I teach you?

You taught me how to be a good girl for you.

How to let you ravage me so badly that I feel like I’m on the brink of death.

I'm a simple man who's been reduced to his base instincts to hunt, capture, keep.

If she is my devil, then I will gladly burn.

If you don’t protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later, it belongs to someone else.

The power he holds over me―

You like to be owned by me? Knowing that I will kill anyone that ever tries to steal you away?

You want passion. A love that completely devours every inch of you.

I know that you long for a little danger, too. I saw how you thrived on it.

It only hurts because I want you so much.

if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I chose you.

You taste like sin.

You're doing so good, Handsome.

No one touches what's mine.

And you are mine. Whether you agree is irrelevant.

I caught you, so now I get to ravish you.

Let’s do something about that mouth of yours, hm?

Be my woman, Ana. Allow me to call myself yours.

I want you to know that you can’t hide from me.

Play nicely, little lamb. Or else, I won’t.

I will do with you as I please.

Show me how much you want me.

You haven’t been getting what you need, have you?

Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?

You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness.

I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul.

Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet.

The flesh wants what it wants.

If you continue to behave like this, I'll actually start to believe you don't hate me.

Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes Power.

And I will break you. I will make it so you can't breathe without me.

What happened to the thrill of the chase?

I just like the way wrong feels.

I swear I won't touch you even with a finger until you ask me yourself.

I need to hear a yes, sir.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #usft tw #usft meme #smut meme #suggestive tw

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oncomingnight · 9 months

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yandere! Scientist

Hello everyone, thank you so much for all of your support on my previous stories. I was extremely excited about writing this specific piece because it's sort of based on movie that's set to come out real soon. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send requests/speak to me in my ask box.

You met Seán while you were both freshmen in highschool. you noticed he was relatively quieter than everybody else in the classroom. He was the most knowledgeable student in that damned classroom, he was just stealthy about it. The two of you really got to know each other when you were selected as partners, selected based on the similarity of your scores, percentages and your ability to learn certain subjects.

Even after the project was finished and graded, the two of you still kept speaking to each other. The reason for that was because he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you. It took awhile for it to click into your head that he was attracted to you, but when you finally realized, you couldn't be more ecstatic.

He confessed to you at the beginning of your sophomore year. Whilst you were putting some of your belongings into your locker, he showed up behind you with blood red roses in his hand, along with a comically large basket of gifts. A tea-stained letter was nestled into the folds of one of the roses, inside of it was him expressing just how happy you've made him for the past year. How he wants your love reserved for him and him alone.

"Hello, Y/n, I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. You don't have to say anything until after I'm done talking but I have to tell you now because it'll do no good to either of us to just have this rot within me. You've been the subject of my love and utter adoration for...oh, dear...it's been so long I've now forgotten. But, I'll have you believe that I have never and will never forget how sublime you make me feel. Every time I think of you, I can't help but smile and think of our potential future together. Y/n, I wish so desperately to take care of you, touch you, kiss you, to hear my name on your lips for the rest of time, only if you'll let me. Now I'm ready, what do you think?"

You were absolutely stunned to hear such profound declarations of love fall from his lips, even more so when the declarations were about you.

You stood there with your bouquet of prickly roses, woven basket full of all you took joy in. You opened your dry mouth and said, "I can't believe you said all that about me. All of this is so beautiful, Seán. So, what do I think? I'm not sure what I think but I know I want to be your girlfriend."

After high school, he immediately got down on one knee to ask you if you'd be forever his woman. His wife. Of course, your answer was a tearful 'yes' as you blubbered about how much you loved him and about how so happy you were.

Highschool sweethearts!

You've always known about his appreciation for science and his interest to pursue a career in that topic. You can only imagine just how thrilled he was when he got a position in a government facility with the job he's always fought for. He picked you up and swirled you around, causing you to become temporarily dizzy as you giggled at his enthusiasm. Seán doused your hot and flustered cheeks with kisses as he smiled at your precious laugh.

He was so glad he'd managed to get a PhD and job in something that would make him enough money to take care of the both of you, but, mostly you. He was so appreciative to you for staying with him for all these years, always his perfect girl, always so supportive, always giving him beyond helpful ideas + advice. You were perfect.

Eventually, the world was struck with a variety of struggles, mainly caused by powerful political figures that simply did not agree with each other. Many people were caught in the crossfire, protests began being organized, riots ensuing right outside of government buildings. What followed all of these events? Well, the only reasonable answer. War.

Because of this, your husband was called into office and put into a group of other physics scientists. They claimed they needed a defense weapon in case of everyone being put into a harmful and treacherous situation. Seán was made the head man of the project.

This worried you to the fullest extent, maybe you were being dramatic but your husband's position in the project could make him a direct target. When you shared your thoughts with him he couldn't help but give you a small endearing smile.

"you've always been a worrisome woman, haven't you? Nothing will happen to you or to us. I'll make sure of it, I'm benefiting them by building this damned thing, they wouldn't dare let anything disrupt our life, m'kay?"

"Seán, I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Yes, you're benefiting them which is exactly why you'd be in danger."

"I can take care of myself, mo mhuirnín dílis. You've witnessed it, no? Don't worry yourself any longer."

Now, you may be wondering what he's talkin' about. Well, don't worry I'll tell you.

Seán had taken you with him to visit the small fishing town he had grown up in. After eating a delicious meal with your in-laws, Seán was invited by some old friends to go out and drink at an old and creaky pub. They have been asking to meet you and this was a chance for him to show you off to everyone in town, so, he accepted.

The night remained still and calm, despite the occasional roar of laughter that would occur at the table. It was fun, you were so glad Seán took you out to see where he was gifted with life.

But then

As you headed towards the friendly barmaid to make an order of crisps for everyone seated at the table. As you waited to be handed your order, a ragged young man that looked incredibly haggard for his age due to all of the alcohol approached you. You were sure he was just going to request assistance in catching a cab as he looked far too intoxicated to do it on his own. But no. He just wanted some action.

He pushed himself onto you with his flirtatious words but after you rejected him, you had angered him to an extreme point. He gripped your arm hard enough to bruise and spoke into your face with a horrid stench on his tongue.

"Now why won't you just shut your little mouth and please a man, hm?" He grinned maliciously.

Suddenly, you saw a quick flash of a fist show in your vision, not expecting it to be Seán punching the man with all the force he had in his slim yet firm body. All it took was one hit for the man to be on the ground, passed out. Yet, Seán didn't stop there and he wouldn't have stopped if his friend hadn't yanked him off the man. He was slamming his knuckles onto the man's pale face until it was almost fully covered in a crimson red.

You'd never seen him act in such a rabid way but you weren't angry at him. He was just protecting you. In an extremely visceral and self incriminating way. He didn't care, he's done far worse in defense of you but those were things he'd done in secret.

You were already far aware of how protective he could get and how emotional he was when it came to you. Someone could say something harmful about you and he'd mutter under his breath in anger, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, and eventually kiss your forehead before leaving the house to go do what he knew needed to be done.

When the two of you were intimate he'd cry at times while expressing his incredibly deep affection for you. He loved seeing you like this, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, your huffs and puffs when he teased you. "I'd kill for you, y-you know that, yeah? Oh, A mhuirnín, I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything."

There comes a lot of stress with his job, at times he'd return from work and burrow his head into your tummy, wrapping his firm arms around your waist. No matter how many times he messages you during work, no matter how many times he re-reads the letter you left him in his lunch, no matter how many times he calls you, he'll always yearn for your touch.

You lift his face from your stomach and remove his glasses, ruffling his dark curls after doing so. Your thumb gently swipes over his cheek, before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss. He melts into your touch and gives you a love-drunk smile.

His perfect girl.

The both of you would go on the loveliest getaway trips when he was able to take a break from work. You'd go to a restaurant and he'd hold your chin as he gently fed you pieces from the pasta you'd ordered, giving you time to chew and swallow.

When in clothing stores, he'd wait outside of the changing room on a cushioned seat, waiting to see his wife's lovely face and figure. He would never let you look at the price tags as that would discourage you from buying what you'd like, he didn't want that.

Seán has a habit of overworking himself to sketch out the building plans for the project he was assigned, he needed it to be perfect. This could change the future and if there even was a possibility that there'd be a future. You'd walk into his office, seeing his hooked nose being beautifully lit by the candle on his desk. He took a sip of his Bushmills whiskey before turning to look at you with eyes full of admiration. "You have to eat something, surely you know that. Plus, I made it so you have to eat it or else I'll get upset."

He's obviously very well known in the science world, I mean, his creation will determine the outcome of society. He's bound to get some recognition. People have come to be obsessed with the relationship the two of you have and the story of your love. Every photograph people see of the two of you, Seán is turned towards you with the most love sick look of them all. In photographs where he's alone, he may as well be the most stoic man in the world.

People would post slideshows of the two of you together and caption it with something along the lines of:

'me and him'

Others in the comments would practically point and laugh at the person with responses of:

'you wish.' 'y'all aren't that important ' 'try again' 'interesting 🧐.' 'Can you be serious...?'

This man is the most serious man in the entire universe when he's at work and surrounded with his partners. But, when he's alone with you? He's nuzzling his cheek into your chest, kissing all over you, kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS.

Seán is the type of husband to pick up your coffee + bakery order to wake you up with, leaves you gifts and notes to find around the house, takes you to the most wonderful places anyone could ever go to.

He's so glad he made someone like you his wife.

Forever :).

#yandere oneshot #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere #obsessive yandere #obsessive love #yandere oc x y/n #oc x yn #oc x reader #oc x canon #oc x oc #oc x character #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere smut

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year

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One of the issues you run into when you're not allowed to express anger as a child, is that you're no longer able to get angry. When you're in a situation that should evoke rage, you instead feel fear, anxiety, panic, or grief, emotional hurt and helplessness. You end up operating a body that cannot feel or express anger. The only times you do feel angry is when you're directing it at yourself, it comes as a form of self hatred, and desire to cause pain and injury to yourself. Because this is the only way you would have been allowed to be angry, only way it was safe, to direct it at yourself, same as everyone else is doing constantly, teaching you that it's normal and expected.

Growing up like this means that all of the anger from your childhood keeps getting stored into your body instead of externalized, and you still cannot get angry when the situation demands it. Instead, when you're being disrespected and injustice is served in your face, you can either feel helpless and lost, or the frustration you feel irritates you so much you cannot stand it. Your body is not used to feeling anger and doesn't know how to process it. Instead it feels like you're going to explode, restless, endlessly irritated and at a complete loss on how to handle it. Because you never learned how to handle anger, except to take it out on yourself, and you might be driven to just keep doing that, forever.

Taking a stand for yourself and confronting whoever deserved your anger might still feel terrifying and all of the insane things that happened to you as a result of childhood anger might get triggered. You might feel too frightened to confront them because you can imagine all sorts of ways it could come back to hurt you - this person could try to get you fired, for example. They might smear campaign you and get you evicted, they could threaten you with something or blackmail you, they could destroy something of yours, spread rumors, hold a grudge and do thousand times worse to you. Those are thoughts evoked by memories of childhood, where abusive parents threatened and did any or all of these things, including torture, in order to keep you from expressing anger.

However this person is hurting you right now, unprovoked, and getting no resistance. From that, they're learning that they can keep doing it, with zero consequences, because you've already been broken and cannot fight back. That is a dangerous situation to be in too, even if it is impossible to predict whether this person is insane like your parents and will try to get revenge for any bit of resistance for their abuse.

I had situations where I would be pushed over the edge and allowed my anger to come out at someone - and people would sometimes complain about it, but they would usually back off, and I would regain my peace of mind because I created a consequence for disturbing it. Anger, however, doesn't feel good. My body is not used to it so it makes me incredibly tense, stressed, frustrated and upset, and it doesn't go away for several days, even weeks sometimes. Because scratching the surface of it evokes the repressed childhood anger which is almost unbearable with how giant it is.

Human body can learn to process anger, it can feel better, more powerful and more in control because of it. It can protect you without inflicting damage to others. It doesn't make you anything like your abusers, who let their anger out at someone who wasn't their equal, had no way to fight back, and did not deserve any of it. Your anger creates boundaries that keep you safe, it doesn't exist to torture others for existing.

It's easy to fall back into the place where you don't want to be angry, and try to be accommodating and allowing of injustice, just so you don't have to feel frustrated and afraid. I often fall back on it too, just wanting to live and have peace. But life around other people often doesn't allow it, and sometimes anger is necessary to send a message of what boundaries will not be crossed without a consequence. Anger is not a bad feeling, it is an act of self love. It comes out to let you know that you've been treated unfairly and it's there because it's telling you that you matter. That treating you unfairly is something to get mad about.

#anger #rage #anger issues #cptsd #abused child #abuse symptoms #trauma symptoms #repressed anger #processing anger #anger builds boundaries #ptsd #traumatic anger #internalized anger #anger directed at self #not being allowed to bring angry creates self hatred #self love #abuse recovery #trauma recovery

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bunnibaby-love · 4 months

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hear me out...possessive dom neuvillette...power imbalance......

🧁 Neuvillette x F!Reader 🧁

♡ female reader + kinda non con + barely smut + corruption + manipulation + power imbalance + dumblification

Iudex Neuvillette has been admiring you ever since you offered an umbrella to him. It was a simple gesture that even Wriothesley did but he thinks it might be what humans called love at first sight

It saddened him when he found out you move to Sumeru to pursue your education. He won't be able to admire you while you walk thru streets or watch on the opera house every once in awhile

Once he found out you are graduating, he didn't think twice to offer you the position of being his secretary. He made sure you are only coming to him by blocking any possible work that would want you or what you want

You of couse, accepted the position of being his secratary. I mean what's better position than being the secretary of Monsieur Neuvillette?! It's a high paying job too!

You wish to learn alot from this work experience but you don't feel doing a professional work. It's always the melusine that do paperworks while you just do Neuvillette schedule and make his meals. It makes you feel more of a maid and this is somewhere you didn't wish to pursue

"A resignation?" Neuvillette raise his eyebrows at you "Pardon me but care to explain? i don't understand you leaving such an important and high position? do you think other place would take in you easily like this?"

He always intimidate you but now it's a very scary feeling and you are sweating cold although you tried hard to be brave infront of him "Yes Monsieur i...i rather work with somewhere i can show my skills"

Neuvillette chuckles at that. He is making your life easier now then you actually want it hard? "And you think your skills are that good?" he smirk when he saw you get pale "Leaving a position like this? only well stupid people would" he cross his legs while enjoying your scared expression. "I'll gave you a better..position then"

He stands up to tuck your hair behind your blushing ears "Kneel" you quickly kneeled, scared to angered the iudex

Neuvillette is a cruel man. You perceive him as cold and intimidating man but just know how cruel he is too you.

He won't let you leave the palais mermonia anymore unless he is with you, with his arms around your waist. The people of fontaine just think of it a cute couple and how great you are for taking the heart of the iudex

When it is the opposite.

You are still his secretary by name but, you did anything but that. When the doors of his office closed, you have to sit down on his lap while he does his loads of paper work "Behave or do you want me to leave you at the floor with that tiny vibrator mhm?" you shake your head. The last time he did that to you, you were in that position for 6hours

When a trial is ongoing, you are secretly under his table and sucking his cock with whatever paced he wanted. He makes you fully naked with the thrill of getting caught

You should hate it. He is making you do all of this because of how powerful he is. He knows you have your debts still and can't even pay it if you left because he is blocking everything from you

But, is really living on surviving better than this? sure Neuvillette treats you like how the toy you are but he is also caring. He would gave you aftercare no matter how much he torment you.

"So pretty like this...at your perfect place" you don't want to think about it anymore.

You now enjoy being on the iudex knees and sucking his cock like it's the only meal you need "Good girl" You happily shows off your tongue full of his cum and swallows it

"Im very proud of you dear...especially now that the test says you are pregnant..." he kiss your lips passionately "my wife....mine forever..."

#genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette smut

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crystaldivination · 7 months

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𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃. 𝗕𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 🖤♠️🗝️♟️🕷️⛓️

"Boss bitch" - Doja Cat playing

"I’m a bitch, I’m a boss. I’m a bitch and a boss, I'ma shine like gloss."

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭

♥︎ ♥︎

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 · 𝐚 · 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 ♱ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 ♱ 🚬

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝐎𝐍𝐄

sweeties you’re a force to be reckoned with! You don’t know challenges. You don’t know the word “STOP” — in fact, there’s no stop sign for you. Giving up is not an option for you. You know your strength and you persist. Once you laid your eyes on something or someone you want, the only thing that you can see is “i’m gonna get it” as if you’re the hunter who has found its prey. People are fearful of your drive, honey. You’re the definition and embodiment of -unstoppable-. A task too hard for you? —impossible. With that brain of yours, no one can outdo and that’s for a fact. Witty at the start and improvisation at play when necessary though nothing without a plan. Master at creativity. ideas that don’t seem to lack and a presence marked by charm enough to fascinate anyone. Visage looking fine as hell but on top of that ease is your second name. You never seem to stress ‘cause everything is just effortless for you. You’re a natural. Humble and unpretentious all the time yet not to be underestimated at all time. You never let them get a hold of you. Mind game on point while you just inevitably happen to unable to be read. so foolish of anyone to believe in the blank face you present ‘cause that poker face skills is not to be played with yet every time they get trapped by not able to learn from it. How come you make it so hard for anyone to know your next move without even intending to do so? maybe, it’s a talent. Quiet confidence and letting the result speak for itself might be the strategy. The secret to your power? —well after all, isn’t it obvious? Winning by being just oneself. No one is you and that’s your power. No one can even come near that. Uniqueness prevails. disrespect will be punished. You need to know your place!

bonita perra! 💸

𝐓𝐖𝐎

queens & kings, there’s not much to say if I’m being honest. Never have I seen so much calmness and control in someone like you. You won the idgaf game! All the inner knowing that everything will turn out in your favour anyway is hot. Your energy shows it all. You trust and believe in yourself like that’s the only thing you’ve ever known — you finessed it to say the least. Indeed it was you alone who has built yourself up to who you’re now, isn’t that true? you decided and did. Dropped all the bullshit to focus on you and what matters most to you. Your wisdom comes from letting go of what hurt you and the things that no longer serve you. You make yourself your top priority. Let go of the past and now you know that you’re that bitch who is not to be messed with. You didn’t cross over that bridge for nothing, I hear you. Self love so unbreakable no one can ever shake. Greatest asset your worth that’s expensive like diamonds. You make yourself shine like stars in the sky, your light would never ever able to go out. Life is what you make it and you made yours a paradise. No one dares and is able to disturb your peace ‘cause you’re out of reach. Not even a firestorm can sway or fade you. You’re in your own lanes moving without them knowing. Too swift to be able to be caught. Exclusivity at its finest. Mind blowing values that accompany and define you forever. This is someone who knows how to stand out from the crowd by doing NOTHING — absolutely nothing but to observe. You have the eyes that speak through the soul. No need to say thousand words and be loud. People get drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You enjoy the attention but know deep down nothing beats a golden heart.

hasta la vista, baby!🍸

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

fierce like a lion, sharp like a knife. Your words cut and sting but they are nothing but the truth. Independent since birth but that’s a given. You’re your own boss. You don’t give anyone the chance to play — not when it comes to you. You know what you want. You know how to get whatever that you yet want and still not have. You know your stand and you stand your ground —something that should be obvious but not always so evident in everyone. No fear is ever greater than your own. they say “no one is your enemy, you might be your own worst enemy” —and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from functioning at your greatest. why? because you know yourself best. You wouldn’t let yourself be your own enemy. you’ve worked on yourself relentlessly —for what it’s worth it seems like. you deserve the acknowledgment. pff as if you don’t know it. this is someone who is and acts proudly of themselves. rightfully so! you have every right to do that! always willing to learn more, never stop being curious. this is what you are. you want to be the best so you have to put in the work, darling. Hard work and hustle life is not a challenge for you. To reach the peak of the mountain is not a dream for you. You have big dreams and you won’t wait for it. You don’t sit around when you know you can climb. you’re nobody's baby and possess an individuality so strong it’s called impeccability. You do it yourself because you know you can master it yourself. An immaculate mind that can turn heads so why searching for ways to prove it or impress anyone when all you need to do is to do it for yourself, right? You don’t want to be king of the so called fixed “class”. You want to be yourself. Now your life can only get better but you’re not one to be satisfied easily so you keep moving until you realized every desires of yours. Feral is what you are and one of your trademark.

xoxo, badass 📞🖤

stay bad & on fleek, lil baddies !

—crystal

#crystaldivination #pac #pick a card #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarot community #tarotblr #tarot reading #intuitive readings #free readings #free tarot readings #free intuitive readings #pick a pile

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gentil-minou · 6 months

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can't we do smth for palestine like we did for ukraine like miraculers for palestine? i just think it'd help.

Monetary aid is useless in Gaza right now because Israel has the entire area under siege. We could raise a million dollars for them, and in fact many have, but it will rot in trucks trapped at the border because Israel refuses to let them in. They don't even have fuel or medical supplies or electricity or water or anything, not because there isn't anyone donating but because Israel refuses to let it in.

Their goal is to slowly starve and kill them all, or push them out of their homeland forever and steal more land for themselves

BUT YOU CAN HELP

WE NEED A CEASEFIRE

The majority of countries and citizens all throughout the world agree that we need an immediate and permanent ceasefire. (Not a humanitarian pause the US keeps trying to push like letting them have 5 days to breathe before Israel slaughters them all).

The majority agrees but a handful of countries, primarily the USA, Canada, and the UK have refused. And because the UN is a joke because the US gets whatever it wants even when it's the only one who wants it, a ceasefire is impossible.

So what can you do?

Easy

Contact your representatives and government

Flood their lines. Call them everyday. Fax them. Email them. Send them written letters. Join a protest. Disrupt the system

Make it clear you will not vote for them if they do not listen to you. Make it clear you want a ceasefire

Here are a few sites to get you started (these are US based but there are plenty of resources for other countries around)

This is just the link I have on hand there are COUNTLESS ones there are ones that will make the call for you, like this one that I used

Physical mail is better. Faxzero is a website that let's you send faxes for free. There are even pdfs and premade letters

Let's say you're not from one of these evil countries, what can you do?

There are protests around the world. Find them and join. Show the world Gaza is bleeding and Palestinians are screaming and that their screams are being heard. Show the world that you refuse to plug your ears and lie silent. Be their voice.

Educate yourself

Read books by Palestinians watch movies and documentaries. Follow their journalists, give them a voice especially now when the rich and powerful are trying so desperately to smother them.

Israel and the western powers want you to be ignorant.

DONT LET THEM

And whatever you do: don't stay silent. Don't treat this like a trend. Do not stop fighting

Even after a ceasefire, we need to keep going. There needs to be a complete dismantling of the Israel terrorist state. We have to keep fighting so Palestinians can live in Palestine the way they have for centuries. We need to show the corrupt governments in this world that we are not going to live under their tyranny

So be LOUD

#palestine #gaza #israel #free palestine #free gaza #Jerusalem #social justice #ceasefire now #gaza strip #palestinian #israeli apartheid #terrorism #jews of tumblr #jewsforpalestine #jumblr #asked and answered #miraculous ladybug

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 6 months

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a solace in the dark

kinktober 2023 masterlist

scarlet witch x reader

18+: mentions of murder and corrupted wanda, smut; wanda has a magic penis teehee, daddy kink, slight dumbification and degradation, restraints, edging, oral, breeding kink, overstimulation, fingering, choking, dom!wanda

wc: 1.4k

You told Wanda from the beginning that you’d be with her until the end. You promised her with each grain of earnestness you could find that whatever she may do, you’ll stay at her side. She’s glad you’re true to your word, that despite the decline into the darkness that took hold of her and dragged her down and down, you stayed with her.

Each life she takes for her own benefit, she dedicates to you. Her sweetest love, the only good part of her heart she has left. The witch adores you more than anything. Even more than the feeling of her magic strengthening with each power she drains, leaving a trail of destruction behind the pair of you that grew with each passing day.

People leave, she knows that fact all too well; chaos magic may fade, but you - her perfect little accomplice - will be with her forever.

She cupped your cheek with a smile reserved for you, towering over your body in nothing but her underwear.

“You were so good for me today,” she murmured along the skin of your throat, dipping her face into the crook of your neck to heat up your skin with her breath. “You know just how to please your witch.”

With each mission she sets the pair of you out on, you prove your loyalty - the Scarlet Witch has taught you well. Death and destruction are a second nature to you now, all too familiar with the way life fades from somebody’s eyes. She’s never loved you more.

Black tipped fingers trailed over your chest, pulling a pert nipple to be rewarded with the small whine at the back of your throat. They wandered over your body as her lips moved with yours, until they found a place around your neck, pushing the breath out of your lungs until your head grew fuzzy.

“Now, be a good girl and take what I give you.”

Her voice was tinged with that darkness that fills you with anticipation, the kind that lets you know she has frustrations to take out on you.

Your hands that had once lay upon her waist were soon above your head, encased in red tendrils that allowed zero movement. No amount of fidgeting got them to give way and the pain that surrounded your wrists with each fight against the restraints made you hungry for her touch.

“Have you not learned by now, sweet girl?” she tutted. “There’s no escape. Even a dumb little whore like you should’ve worked that out.”

She knows you don’t want reprieve but she also knows the forceful promise of having no choice in the matter makes your cunt throb for her; with your naked body in front of her she can see the soaked mess between your legs.

“Or is that all you are, hm?” the woman mused, peppering kisses across every part of your exposed body she could reach. “A stupid little fucktoy. Needy and pathetic, completely dependent on me.”

“Daddy, please,” you breathed out in frustration, only making her smirk at your writhing desperation. “I want you - I need you - please. I’m all yours.”

The woman knows she practically owns you but hearing it from your lips is nothing short of divine.

Your hips lifted into her on their own accord when her tongue licked a swipe through your pussy, grunting into you at your taste. Hands tainted with darkness crawled up your body, nails scraping over your flesh as her tongue worshiped your cunt like drinking from a holy altar.

The peripherals of your vision took in the sight as much as you could in your held down position; the head between your thighs and the lusting eyes that peered up at you, the stygian digits that clawed at your body and toyed with your nipples.

Each flick of her tongue was as perfect as ever, teasingly poking at your entrance and her lips that sucked your swollen bud made your legs threaten to clamp around her head.

Your pulse raced with the fast approaching orgasm readying itself to wash over you and that’s what made it that much more aggravating when she pulled away with glistening lips. She merely chuckled at the pointed glare you shot her way as she wiped her chin clean of your juices and with a flick of her wrist your arms were free and she was on top of you again.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into this pretty belly of yours,” she rasped, her lips ghosting yours with her words as the cock she’d fashioned herself with nudged at your hole. Her soaked pussy had been transformed into a dick that throbbed with ravenous hunger for your body. “You want that? You want daddy to fill you up?”

Your head swam at the mere concept, your body grew painfully hot and any words you tried to muster didn’t seem enough to verbalise your enthusiasm. Instead, you settled on a grasp of fingers around her length, guiding it into you with symmetrical moans from the both of you at the feeling of her sliding into the warmth of your sex.

You clenched around her as she stretched you open, pushing deeply into you until you’d taken it all. With one hand pulling her face to yours for a kiss filled with utter electric fervour, and the other grabbing at the plush of her thigh, you encouraged the snapping of her hips into you.

The gentle pace she set out on contrasted the fierce roughness that surrounded any other part of her life that didn’t involve this. Her and you. This bubble of solace that serves as the only comforting escape either of you can fall into. With all of the loss the both of you have endured, the stability of having each other eternally was sacred.

And to know this all powerful witch could have moans pulled out of her by you only made you love her more. The feeling of your greedy pussy pulling her into you made her groan into your mouth, feeling the throbbing of her cock with each time she bottomed out into you.

The hand that wasn’t holding her body up settled around your neck, stealing the breaths you tried to take whilst she sunk her teeth into your collarbone.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my baby,” she uttered, quickening her rhythm with the soon nearing releases creeping up on you.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you stuttered out, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her into you as much as you could, grabbing at her back with streaks of pink decorating her skin from your nails.

“Me too, honey,” she returned with a choked moan falling into the plane of flesh between your breasts.

With her cock filling you up, and the tightening of your cunt around her it didn’t take much for the both of you to cum; the room was filled with the lewd sounds of skin hitting into skin, groans of pleasure accompanying the audible sound of her filling you up.

You felt the warmth of her seed painting your pussy, overcome with pleasurable sensations as she fucked her cum into you, milking herself of all she could with slow glides of her hips into you; her new position on her knees allowed her to watch your shaking body bathe in the moment. She watched hungrily how she disappeared into you, how your chest rose and fell to catch your breath.

Wanda watched the perfect way you whimpered at the emptiness when she pulled out of you, and how you squirmed at the fingers she thrust into your leaking hole. The cum filled cunt soaked her fingers when they buried themselves into you and the woman couldn’t deny the sadistic amusement she entertained herself with whilst your dazed body begged for reprieve when her thumb rubbed over your sensitive clit.

“One more,” she whispered. “For me.”

You couldn’t even form a half-amused, snarky comeback at her faux innocent tone, too overstimulated by it all as she quickly worked you into another orgasm with the attentive assault she forced onto you.

Tears filled your eyes at the bordering painful ache but you let her pull you over the edge and took the fingers she nudged at your lips, slackening your jaw to suck them into your mouth. Her cum coated your tongue as you licked her digits clean, basking in the taste, distinctly hers and faultlessly sublime.

And when she pulled you into her side whilst your heart still thrummed in your chest, you smiled into the soft kiss she pressed to your lips, knowing that it beat for her and hers beat just for you.

#wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader

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aphroditesmoon · 8 months

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children of the empire

king!jacaerys valeryon x reader

summary: the tale of the king and the slave.

warnings: slave!reader, infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst, childbirth, grief, death, inspired by paul and chani from dune book series.

A/N: just jace and reader being wholly devoted to eachother

wc: 1.4k

----

HE KNEW THE two of you were destined to be together from the moment he laid his eyes on you. After the coronation held for him as King, multiple houses that had changed the course of their loyalty at the last minute had begun to seek the now young King Jacaerys’ favor. And so began the parade of gifts from ornaments, jewels and women were presented. Exotic slaves from colonized lands were brought forth to the king. He had sat on the throne as if it was made just for him. The throne his mother had not been given the privilege to sit on for even a whole year.

By his side, was his once betrothed and now Queen Baela. Their union was celebrated the way their parents would have wanted, and the two tried their hardest to uphold all the traditions and rulings to make worth of the sacrifices and bloodshed in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen.

In everyone’s eyes, the pair was unstoppable, a united front with grudging respect for the other. A pair not only blessed with deserving power, but also with love.

But no one knew what really lied behind closed doors. The King Jacaerys and Queen Baela Targaryen had not loved one another. They might’ve liked each other in a way, back then. But the war and deaths have changed them both forever. They could not find any semblance of romantic attraction or comfort in the other. They had mourned their families in such a similar way, yet somehow still jarringly different. To find intimacy with the other was to face unspoken grief.

Jacaerys had thought that the loveless marriage would be the end of him ever experiencing a pure, tender bond with anyone. But he had seen you in a line of tired looking, plain and pretty girls, and he had sworn he’d seen you in a dream before.

If his mother was alive, she would be cursing him off his head. In fact, sometimes he hears her too. Yelling, and calling him a failure of a son, as he’s holding your thighs open, plunging himself deeper inside of you. An affair had by kings wasn’t uncommon, but he wondered how many of them were of love and not lust. He knew he would love you like his mother loved his father. But no matter how much of him is his mother’s son, he would not let you suffer the same end as his father.

He learned quickly that you weren’t as docile as you looked. Ask the wrong question and you’ll snap back. And yet, you were also not as hostile as you make yourself to be. You scold him like no one dares to do to the King, and you call him names on days he’s being particularly irritating, receiving a rising reaction from his shocked and baffled advisor and guards. But he knew that you were harmless. And you knew that a man like him can take a few jabs. And as much as the insults keep on coming, you advise him like no one does either.

You run your fingers through his hair like you’d give up everything you have to be able to touch him. And he looks up to your standing figure through his mussed-up hair as he kneels down with his arms circling your waist, like no one could ever look to even the greatest of kings.

“You will carry my children.” He had once told you.

The late-night silence where only the wind was able to speak louder than either of you, making anything he was saying sound possible. “Your queen will hold a knife to my throat.” You responded, feeling him pull you closer to his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “I would not let any other woman be the mother to my children except you.”

You let out a hoarse laugh that sounded almost too cynical to his liking. “I am not your woman, even if I am your property. Any child you have with me is a child destined for a life of suffering.” Had he not been so tired, he would have presented a stronger case after seeing you argue with much more fire even in such an hour. But instead, he only shook his head hard enough for you to feel his disagreement. “You are not my property.” You hummed with your ear to his heart. “I would be yours if you’ll have me, and I’d let you rob me naked if that be your heart’s desire.” You let out a scoff you always do when you’re finding him ridiculous and drunk. Only soft kings dare to dream, a reminder you bring up constantly to him. All because you knew what usually happens to those kinds of rulers, and even if you wouldn’t say it out loud, you cared for him too much to see him resigned to such a fate.

Three months later, you were with child. Brimmed with joy, Jacaerys had vowed to legalize the babe as soon as it comes out. And even with his queen’s relentless challenging to his title and responsibility, he refuses to send you away. He asks her forgiveness for the disrespect the child’s birth would be to her, but his mind was set.

An illegitimate royal child was not unheard of, and Jacaerys’ fortunate case of being a man helps lessen the cacophony of riots and disagreement within the council. But when it had been confirmed that the child would be legalized and appointed as his heir. How can a scion of the Targaryen family be a bastard made by bastards.

And yet with every voice raised against him, his assurance only becomes stronger. Every drink you take and every meal you eat will be tested first for poison. And every move you make would be supervised and followed by personal guards that were starting to make you regret being with him. 6 months into the pregnancy, you had relented into staying in your chambers, his overprotectiveness had become more obvious. Not even the Queen was granted to visit you, in fear of bad intentions.

His actions had hurt Baela, for she expected him to know better what kind of person she is in terms of morality.

When your water finally broke, he was 20 minutes late. When a guard had run to him in the throne room to announce the birth, he didn’t need to be told twice to get himself off the iron throne, running to you as fast as he could. You had given birth to a set of twins. A girl, and a boy. He had made it to you in the last few seconds before you let out your final breath. You had whispered his name as he squeezes your hand in a fist while apologizing profusely. “I couldn’t have belonged to anyone else, even if I wanted to.” He had cried by your side. You responded with a confession you’ve never uttered aloud, though both of you already knew what it was. You had breathed out so quietly, words only meant for his ears, “I love you.” The lights in his eyes died out the second you were announced deceased.

He sat by your cold body for hours before he could be convinced to let his grip on your dead arms off. He held both of his babes for the first and last time in his arms that day before spending the next 2 days locked and isolated in his chambers. Rhaenyra and Lucerys Targaryen. A storm brewed in the sky of Kings Landing. Wild winds and lightning as devastating as his own heart. The people stayed inside as the weather rips off wooden houses and floods the streets in every corner that is

Baela had tried speaking to him, as gentle as she could, reminding him of his children. But he was non-verbal. And so, she gave up.

On the third day, Rhaena Targaryen had rushed to her Queen sister, screaming in pure terror as she held up a folded and opened envelope of a letter. The doors to the King’s chambers were slammed open, only to find the place empty. The King hadleft. He had exited the castle to the storms.

And in his letter contained his want for his wife to rule in his stead until his daughter Rhaenyra reaches the age of 10 and 8, old enough to be wed to her brother, and then after, she’d take her rightful place as Queen.

A legitimate claim to the throne.

The only other thing written besides his will, was a sentence among the lines, ‘Only a soft king dares to dream. And I am as weak and soft as it can be.’

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #jace velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #jace targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #hotd #jacaerys targaryen

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deepouterspacecandy · 3 months

Text

Ink and Paper Hearts

I wanted to write something for Valentine's Day, and wound up with over 8k words. Sheesh! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being here! Be kind to yourself and others. 18+ only. Violence and sexual themes. Angst, fluff, etc.

Raised on a cattle ranch, you spent your early days on horseback tending to the farm and living off the land. When disaster left you orphaned, a ragtag group of survivors embraced you as one of their own. Over time, they had become your family, and together, you’d endure natural disasters, famine, and hordes of infected.

It only took one sweep of malevolent raiders to destroy your home and turn everything you’d ever known to dust. You escaped the attack within an inch of your life.

Isaac was the one who discovered you withering away in an old diner off the freeway, fending off the infected with nothing but your integrity and a baseball bat. His medical team, which accompanied him as they moved between compounds, took care of your recovery, and nursed you back to health.

The leader of the Washington Liberation Front admired any person who possessed the strength to fight and the compassion to care for animals simultaneously, and in exchange for a safe place to lay your head, you promised to do just that.

It was a relinquishment of power; you learned early on. Anything involving Isaac came at a cost. Your bond with him was duty-bound, but he offered you another chance at having a family and a purpose. After being all alone in that desolate place, you’d been more than willing to fall in line.

Still, you were a different person when you first arrived in Seattle.

Some would say naïve. You saw yourself as a practical optimist. Now, you’re not so sure.

It’s truly astonishing how a year of unrelenting conflicts with the Scars can diminish the brightness of your silver lining.

The ability to find distraction in your work is a double-edged sword.

A jack of all trades, you spend most of your time working with the four-legged soldiers of the WLF. You have extremely limited patience for the human variety, on both sides of the fence. You tolerate a handful of your comrades, but between assignments, you’re happiest with your nose in a book, savouring the quiet and escaping into distant realms.

The drive for escapism hasn’t been a difficult undertaking lately.

A group of thirty soldiers left the grounds on assignment last month, and only two returned.

It left the stadium halls quieter, heads hanging lower than what you’d ever witnessed. Interactions that would otherwise leave you with a sunny lilt, instead left you carrying a heaviness that you couldn’t quite shake.

Few civilians choose to dive into surface level banter like they used to and the collective fear and sadness shrouding the compound has kept it that way for some time.

It serves as a reminder that even with extensive training and the most advanced military equipment, tragedy can strike without discrimination.

Unchecked and alone, the infected will forever wander through the shadows, driven by an unending quest to find their next victim. Maybe the same idea is true for all adversaries.

Your primary objective is to ensure the community remains united and intact. If you manage to stay sane, that’s a plus.

“How are you today, my little sunflower?” Manny asks, mischievously tugging your jacket.

“You better be talking to the dogs.”

“And if I’m not?” he asks, kneeling to offer unlimited ear scratches to the newest litter.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to refer you to every other time you’ve ever asked,” you say, giving the bottom of his boot a kick. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes, he does!”

A woman’s voice booms from the other side of the unit, and Manny forces a smile.

“The bane of my existence.”

You chuckle at his misery, knowing little about his relationship with Abby outside of the kinship they portray in combat and their supposed insufferable roommate arrangement. Something you’re only privy to after running into her after hours at the library as she was trying to catch some shuteye on the couch there.

“Will you quit harassing pretty girls and grab a damn dog already?”

As she approaches, tails of all shapes and sizes wag with incredible speed, exuding pure happiness. You wonder how much time she has spent in the kennels when you’re not around. Isaac has her spearheading every mission from here to Chicago, so you rarely see her. But the dogs never forget a kind face.

You exchange a few pleasantries with Abby before she drags her unenthusiastic partner to work. Manny’s womanizing ways at the stadium serve as a constant reminder of your boundaries in relationships.

You’re safer by yourself.

Abby does seem like a sweetheart, though.

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

“We ship out tomorrow morning,” Abby says, handing you an empty canteen and a backpack, a clipboard braced to her side by her white knuckled grasp.

Her abrupt tone makes you jump when it normally wouldn’t. She’s struggling to keep her voice steady, but you suspect she has more important things to worry her mind about.

“Right,” you nod. “Any idea how long?”

As she’s rushing to complete the next task, your query hits her at the worst possible second, adding to her already teetering stress load. You recognize it a moment too late and your teeth ache at the back of your jaw when she spins on her heel, pinning you with a glare.

“Do you expect a serious answer, or are you just trying to piss me off?”

“No, I—”

“Promises around here are as worthless as the ETA themselves, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Promises? What did that have to do with anything?

“I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”

“Anything else I can assist you with, soldier? Or can we finish wasting my time?” Abby bellows.

You knew it would be a mistake to leave the K9 unit, but circumstances with the Seraphites have forced your hand. They not only invaded WLF territory, causing destruction and casualties among your people, but they’ve also been blocking your teams from conducting supply runs, leading to a rather grim situation in the reserves.

“You don’t have to bite my head off,” you say, feeling the tension rise as you widen your stance against her more imposing one. “We’re all stuck in this mess.”

“Oh, really?” she seethes. “Good to know. I’ll be sure to hand you a shovel next time our people turn up in body bags. Give you a break from scooping dog crap to help us grownups with the actual shit.”

Abby is your superior and you know better than to test the hierarchy. The moment you denied Isaac’s advances, you tumbled from the top spot. But you’re no chump.

“What’s your problem?”

In a split second, Abby’s body looms over you as she detonates, “You’re my problem,” her breath hot against your face.

She flinches when you lose your balance and stumble backward, narrowly catching yourself. If her instinct was to rescue you, she restrained herself just in time, her hand frozen in mid-air. A twitch nags at the corners of her tired eyes.

“You’re no different from the rest,” you say, walking backward, chest heaving. “It’s all the fucking same.”

You’re down the hall and veiled by the four walls of your room before the opportunity to fumble your conversation further buries you in shame.

It’s going to be a long night.

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

Manny runs through his roll call sheet twice, inspecting each soldier with every measure but a squat and cough. If he thought he’d catch you on a minor clothing infraction, hell, a mismatched pair of socks, he’s sadly mistaken. You wouldn’t give Abby the satisfaction and besides, you hadn’t slept a wink preparing for this assignment.

“Where’s Anderson?” Manny asks under his breath. The team surrounding him dip their heads and you try to avert your attention. Brush it off like you had been too busy inspecting your gear to overhear him.

“We’re not going blind, are we, Alvarez?” Abby says, shouldering through the group to drop her bag on the tailgate of the Humvee.

When her arm brushes yours, you recoil, your fist hitting your stomach with a muffled thud. Her head snaps in your direction, but her gaze is less volatile than before. You make a point not to place too much trust in that emotional assessment, finding solace in the familiar sensation of your twisting hands.

“Alright,” she shouts above the murmurs of your unit, the quiet chatter falling into silence. “You will work in pairs, at all times, even when we are in proximity to each other. This is unnegotiable, so don’t ask me if you have to bring a friend to the pisser. The answer is yes.”

The group’s attention is undeterred, even as a faint chuckle escapes them, their eroded black boots facing her commanding presence.

“If you hear something, say something,” she continues, her chin bowing slightly. “It may save a life.”

You swallow thickly and lean against the armed vehicle, its cold steel biting into your back. It’s possible that your sleepless night will affect your performance, but you decide not to emphasize it and hoist yourself upright before anyone notices.

“Our destination is approximately sixty miles from here, and we will cross into Scar territory temporarily, so we’ll need to be cautious. Eyes on rooftops, balconies, you know the drill.”

The group divides between the Humvee and a military truck, and it’s only after twenty minutes of driving that you realize Abby has chosen you as her combat partner for the time being. You feel the weight of her thigh against yours, as she adjusts her legs to accommodate her backpack, and you’re left pondering her decision.

There is a clear sense of trust between her and Manny, making him not only her closest friend, but a lifeline in warfare. Does she think you’re weak and in need of a stronger match? You gnaw on your bottom lip at the notion, focusing on the greenery flitting past your window.

“Come on, Anderson, your balls aren’t that big,” Manny teases, gesturing to her outstretched posture, particularly the way her legs take up enough room for two. You shift toward the door to free up some real estate between you and concentrate back on the road.

As their banter fades into background noise, your attention shifts to observing the deserted surroundings, vigilant for any indication of danger. Apart from a pair of rabbits hopping around, the streets are completely motionless.

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

The cavalry parks outside a derelict warehouse, its craggy roof adorned by a lush carpet of moss. Rust-bitten chain link fencing surrounds an expansive lot at the rear, cube vans with faded labels scattered throughout. It’s a tempting location to scavenge, but the prospect makes your stomach lurch.

The presence of tall grass and the lack of windows on each vehicle creates ample opportunity for trouble. A lurking enemy, dead or alive, is something you’d like to avoid. It’s possible that someone has already searched the vans, despite their undisturbed appearance.

“Let’s break this down into teams and tackle it all at once,” Abby announces, nodding at the parking lot and the adjoining building. “Six outside, inspecting the trucks, and six inside. We’ll scour the property first, and then we can set up for the night.”

“Wait,” you say.

She blows out a frustrated breath.

“This better be good.”

The temptation to tell her to fuck all the way off is intense.

“Maybe we should put a couple scouts up high, search the grounds together,” you say, pointing to the safest vantage points. “Eyes in the sky.”

“Any other suggestions?” she asks.

“I mean, no—but,” you begin.

Abby interrupts, holding her hand up. “Like I said. Six and six. We don’t need to be out here longer than necessary.”

“Fine.”

She guides you toward the building, her palm on your lower back, and you jerk away from her grasp. She may have the authority to call the shots, but you decide where you place your neck on the chopping block.

“I’m with them,” you say, trudging toward the trucks.

“Hey!” Abby says.

“Oh, Jesus Christ. What?”

She gives you a once over, gritting her teeth.

You throw your hands up and let them slap against your sides, waiting for her to hurl her discontent at your head, clearly eager to tear a strip off you in front of your squad. With a distant gaze, she fixates on the hollow space behind you before heading towards the warehouse.

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

It took several hours to secure the perimeter and set up camp inside.

Your heavy eyelids rejoice at the promise of rest. The team in charge of the mail trucks uncovered a mother lode of undelivered packages, chock full of useful supplies. It was almost as impressive as the haul the WLF brought back from the airport a few months back.

Within the building, soldiers set up their bedrolls among a labyrinth of cluttered offices. It’s quite comical to overhear the entertainment value of some dusty, redundant telephones and keyboards. You catch snippets of the amusing conversations while rearranging your own space, the sound of playful jabbering rising from the ashes, finally allowing you to release a deeply trapped breath.

Abby eases up on her protocols to make the rounds and ensure everyone is okay. You make use of the time alone to freshen up and explore, gathering candles from various boxes to arrange in your shared office, the wax and wicks a rare, comforting find.

Abby spots them as soon as she returns.

“Nighttime always feels darker away from home,” you explain, worried she might find them frivolous.

She doesn’t.

“Candles are good,” she says, picking one up to roll in her hands. She scrapes her thumbnail along the wax base and shifts on her feet. “I like them.”

“Alright,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

You try to ignore the intensity of her gaze as it grazes over you, but beads of sweat build along your lower back. It might be time to crack a window. Occupying yourself with that activity, you grow increasingly frustrated as the most accessible ones refuse to budge.

“Let me try,” she offers.

“I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” she huffs, and you glimpse her crossing her arms over her broad chest.

You reckon Abby isn’t used to being turned down, and it sours your stomach a little to be the outlier.

By climbing the desk closest to the wall, you gain some leverage and drive your palms into the ridge of the window. You feel the sharp edge digging painfully into your flesh, your back muscles tightening to an impossible degree.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grunt, putting all your might into another attempt, the image of a bottle smashing through the pane something you’d seriously consider acting upon if you were alone.

“Stop being stubborn and let me help.”

“I don’t need your help,” you groan, the tickle of sweat now threatening to break into a full stream down your spine.

“Sure seems like you do,” she says, the arrogance in her tone combined with the weight of her gaze on your back, sending your lid rocking chaotically over a burgeoning boil.

You suck in a rigid breath and ignore her remark.

“Look, if you just—”

“Abby!” you say, jolted by your own shout.

Manny must overhear the commotion, slinking against the door frame to clear his throat. As they murmur behind you, you bow your head and brace your hand against the glass, waiting to be reprimanded.

When you twist your body to offer an apology, the room is empty.

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

Even as the sun disappears below the horizon, the air in your office, as well as the rest of the building, becomes oppressively warm. You dig through your bag for a less cumbersome shirt but resort to stripping down to your sports bra and a pair of boxers. Abby hasn’t come knocking for a while, long enough for a clicker to obliterate you ten times over, but you temper your outrage.

Downstairs, there’s a treasure trove of unopened loot piled on racks, beckoning your interest. Abby abandoned her rule of two and frankly, you couldn’t care less.

Truthfully, she never wanders too far from her pack.

It’s possible she’s unaware of your whereabouts while you gather boxes from the metal racks downstairs in your underwear.

But it’s also possible she has eyes on you wherever you go.

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

“What’s all this?” Abby asks, lingering in the doorway.

Lost mail spills from the bins surrounding you. You’re captivated by the untold stories inside them. A peek into a world you’d never known.

“Letters, mostly,” you say.

Just inside the entryway, Abby slouches against the wall, absentmindedly playing with the fibers of the carpet using her socked feet.

“What kind?”

You’ve torn through dozens of envelopes, the contents of each one wildly different. It’s almost disturbing to imagine how many people had an entire universe they experienced through their eyes only.

You’ve already envisioned yourself journeying from one post office to another, gathering historical accounts and breathing new life into forgotten tales.

“I’m a bit lost with most of them,” you say, credit card debt and bank statements flying straight over your head. “Structures before the outbreak are a lot different from ours.”

Abby clicks her tongue, moving further into the room to sit across from you. She’s careful not to encroach on your space and a twinge of remorse worms into your belly. You offer an olive branch, handing her a photograph.

“But then there’s stuff like this,” you continue.

Abby’s eyes widen at the provocative image of a woman, her slender figure draped across a pristine silk sheet, the vibrant red of her lace panties and sharp stilettos creating a striking contrast. Attached to it is a note that reads:

When you’re alone, close your eyes, and I’ll be whispering your name.

Abby puffs a quiet laugh as a flush of pink creeps along the high points of her cheekbones.

“Who’s it addressed to?” she asks.

You search for the envelope among a sea of scribbled addresses and realize it’s a futile endeavour.

“I’m honestly not sure,” you admit. “I think I lost it.”

“Damn,” Abby smirks, running her thumb over the curled edges of the polaroid. “Lost in transit twice.”

You give a half shrug, noticing how enraptured she is with the picture. Her blonde lashes catch the candlelight at an angle that cast long shadows across her freckled skin.

“Manny would lose his mind,” Abby says, rolling her eyes. “He’s obsessed with shit like this—women in general, really. Horny bastard.”

You can feel the giggles bubbling up inside you, and you clamp your lips together to keep them from escaping. Abby Anderson, the most revered soldier of the Washington Liberation Front, sitting criss-cross applesauce talking smack about her best friend.

It is about the funniest thing you’ve seen in weeks.

“Have you—ever sent one?” you ask, treading dangerous waters and bracing yourself.

She blows out a ragged breath, pocketing the evidence.

You wonder if it’ll be a gift for Manny or something she keeps for herself. The notion causes vicious heat to rise across your forehead and down the bridge of your nose.

“Not a chance. It’s not really my thing.”

The mountain of mail between you becomes a welcomed distraction, and you make use of having a focal point to stare at.

When she tosses the question back your way, it throws your stuttering heart into a full gallop.

“Have you?” she whispers, leaning back to study you with a leg outstretched. The heel of her foot rocks to a slow tune only she can hear.

Her muscular arms bulge as she balances herself and you do your level best to pretend you don’t care. You expect her to wriggle uncomfortably or try to change the subject, but she doesn’t. Instead, she waits on you to bounce the ball she has rolled onto your court.

It’s you who can’t stop squirming.

“I haven’t found anyone worth the effort,” you say, and it feels a little embarrassing, maybe, but you figure honesty goes a lot further with Abby. “People suck.”

“Would you?” she asks. “If you found someone.”

Your racing heart leaves you dizzy.

It’s too goddamn hot in this office. You crane your neck to fire silent vitriolic arrows toward the stubborn windows, desperate for a fresh gust of air to grace the back of your damp shoulders. Abby stumbles to her feet, stepping over you to solve your problem once and for all.

With a soft click, the lock releases, and the window glides open, allowing the cool evening breeze to sweep through the space.

You squeeze your eyes shut and groan.

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Abby smirks, dropping back down to her spot on the floor. This time, she lies on her side, head propped up by her arm. “You almost had it.”

The crooked smile quirking up on her mouth hits you like a flashbang.

“I kind of hate you right now,” you say without venom. “But I should probably say thank you, huh?”

“Probably,” she grins, teeth raking slowly over the pout of her bottom lip.

She has freckles there too, and you’re suddenly envious of them.

“I won’t,” you blurt, tearing open another envelope. “Say thank you.”

“I wouldn’t either,” she laughs, and it’s a deep, warm cadence. A laugh meant only for your ears. She gestures to the letter in your hand. “What’s that one?”

The grin you’re desperately trying to hide causes your face to ache.

The brash woman you’re hardly accustomed to sharing a home with at the stadium is full of surprises, it seems. There’s a side to her that isn’t militant and melancholy, but rather the opposite.

She’s playful and witty. Her eyes, a staggering blue lake, are gentle and kind.

You could fall madly, painfully in love with a woman like Abby.

Abby herself, even. If she wasn’t an unstable box of dynamite.

You skim the handwritten letter with the tip of your finger, and another wash of warmth blooms inside you at the bulk of the sentiment.

“It’s a confession,” you explain, fixing your attention on the last paragraph. “He’s been in love with her for a long time, since they were kids.”

“Will you read it to me?”

Her gentle query sends a shiver of sunshine down your spine. Her eyelids are heavy like yours, and the shadows beneath hers speak volumes about the burden she carries. The weight of the world.

“Only if you promise to read the next one.”

“Deal,” she murmurs, sliding your bag over to use as a pillow. She snuggles into it and your whole body vibrates.

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

The trip home is lighter, despite the nearly crippling load. Clothing, toys, garden seeds, tools, home goods, toiletry items — the list is a mile long. You couldn’t take everything, but the mass of what hadn’t deteriorated or spoiled made it through the gates.

It’s a hopeful thing, not only to witness your group returning home unharmed, but with enough supplies to ease the strain taken from a new fruitful avenue.

The moment you and your squad walk into the chow hall together, you’re met with a chorus of cheers and applause. As Abby vanishes amidst the swarm of people, you exchange a few handshakes before seeking escape from the cacophony.

Your sleeping quarters are the chaotic aftermath of hurried packing and abandoned reading material, with your mattress being the only semblance of order in the disarray. It was Manny who taught you how to make your bed to military standards and perhaps his goal was to inspire more in you than routine, but either way, the habit stuck.

Gratitude simmers for it now more than ever, the crisp, clean sheets offering respite. Freshly showered and dead on your feet, you crawl into your cozy bed and drift away.

A thunderous crash shocks you awake.

You blink against the abyss, immediately comforted by the stadium lights leaking through your curtains. It drives other citizens insane, the absence of darkness, but you’re thankful for it.

Someone appears to be banging your door down.

“Cool it, already,” you say, scrambling for your cotton robe. The brutal assault on your sleep at this hour deserves to be outlawed—prohibited by the laws of the WLF. “Holy hell, are you trying to wake the whole neighbourhood?”

You tear open the door and any visceral anger coursing through you evaporates at the sight. Tall, fierce, and devastatingly gorgeous, all blended with the rich spice of amber liquor.

Loose tendrils of hair cascade along her shoulders and collarbone in protest of her braid.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have something for you. Can I come in?” Abby asks, and it’s not a question.

Before you can even request a moment to compose yourself, she unceremoniously dumps a heavy grey bin on your living room floor, adding to the chaos, before collapsing onto your couch.

“What’s going on, Abby?”

She may be a delightful, luminous drink of water when she wants to be. But damn, can she ever snore the walls down in record time.

You plop yourself onto the bin beside her and try to make sense of her unexpected visit. Should you venture down the hall to wake her roommate? There’s likely a sock hanging from the doorknob by now, but it’s an option.

“Anderson?”

The sound of your hands drumming on the sides of the plastic container fills the room, while you contemplate the amount of bourbon your crew has consumed from lunchtime until now. An indulgence that landed on your doorstep all the same.

When Abby whimpers and curls in on herself, you resolve to drape her in your heaviest blanket, hoping to help her tackle the unsteady beats of her sleep cycle and a looming hangover. She bundles the fabric in her fists and clenches it underneath her chin.

Captivated by her klutzy aura, you nearly trip on the forgotten bin.

The lid doesn’t want to come apart from its secured spot and you have the presence of mind to check for a locking device, just to be sure. There isn’t one, of course, but you’ll never let yourself live down the office window debacle.

It’s going to require elbow grease and a hefty tug. You hiss as it separates in several loud pops. Luckily, the noise only costs the weary girl on your couch a flinch or two.

Letters fill it to the brim, and you’re enthralled by Abby’s decision to bring them back with her. Your instinct is to open each one, but it doesn’t feel right without her there to chirp commentary at you.

“I don’t get it,” you breathe in disbelief, expecting your words to meld with the shadows and disappear.

Her ghost-quiet voice turns the thermostat up a thousand degrees.

“I was mean,” she stammers. “You didn’t deserve it.”

It appears that you’re tapping into her guilt-ridden subconscious, which feels so delicate you consider shaking her awake. You doubt she’d want to lay it all bare.

Does she always talk in her sleep?

“No, it’s okay,” you say. “Water under the bridge.”

Your response seems to placate her overworked brain. You can relate, as your own tries to lure you back to the land of lonely slumber.

You notice her face doesn’t relax, even when her breathing slows, the lines in her forehead streaked with dirt. To never find peace, even during sleep, must be exhausting beyond what most can fathom. It seems cruel to disturb her, even if she’s restless. You settle for leaving a glass of water on the side table for her before settling in at the end of the couch. If she startles awake, you’d rather she doesn’t do it alone.

Cramped onto the only slice of cushion she hasn’t claimed, you let the commotion of the day pull you under.

As morning greets you, you find yourself back in your bed.

The familiar scent of Abby drenches your blanket, but she’s long gone.

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

It’s your first day off in months, but you check the work assignment list to confirm. On your way back from the bulletin board, the classrooms are abuzz with joyful energy. Children eagerly play with the toys and delve into the books your squad brought home, and it gives you a sense of belonging. A goal beyond surviving.

Until now, you have thought little about your life beyond protecting the community. It always made sense to put your neck on the line for the greater good. While casually strolling past the gym, not in search of a certain soldier, you can’t help but wonder if there might be other adventures awaiting you.

Abby’s breath tickles your ear, and you leap a mile out of your skin.

“Looking for me?”

“Son of a bitch,” you wheeze.

She doubles over with laughter, imitating the strangled noise you make when you’re caught off guard. She takes a minute to catch her breath before she gives you a generous shove.

“You’ve got quite a potty mouth,” she teases, wrinkling her nose impishly at a passing group of young ones. “There are little ears around here, you know.”

“Yeah, well, they probably know better than to sneak up on a person,” you say, finding Abby’s laughter rather infectious. You bite back a grin. “Who does that? Is an apocalypse not enough for you people?”

Abby breaks into another bout of giggles, seeming to enjoy your newfound passion for merging the old world with the new one.

“Is it our apocalypse though, if we were born into it?”

“Yes, Abby, it is,” you huff, eager for your heart rate to return to baseline. “We’re in an active apocalypse and you’re awful.”

As she leans against the large window you’d been peering through, the sounds of the gym fade into the background. She tilts her head at you, eyes sparkling with intrigue. Clad in workout gear that accentuates her sculpted body, she doesn’t appear sweaty.

You must’ve caught her on her way in.

“Are you busy later?”

“Not really,” you say, fidgeting with a frayed string on your sleeve. “Are you?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Okay,” you say, staring at a scuff on your sneaker before catching her gaze.

“Okay,” she mimics, directing her nose scrunch at you this time, turning your mouth dry. “Feel like being busy later?”

It’s not as if her tone is explicit or even her language, but this woman is a supernatural force. So, tingles rise into gooseflesh from your head to your toes, regardless.

“What do you have in mind?” you ask.

The roars of a lively group of soldiers reverberate through the gym, their spirited chants urging their champion to hurry her ass up. They beckon to her as if they are a part of the kindergarten cohort, causing both of you to snicker and shake your heads. One of them wolf-whistles, the rise and fall of the pitch echoing into the hallway. Abby wastes no time throwing up her middle finger in response.

“I can come by around seven. Does that work?” she asks, reaching for your wrist. She gives it a quick squeeze and slowly pulls away, her fingers sliding to the tip of your pinky.

Her simple touch is unexpected, and it electrifies you.

“Works for me.”

She beams, walking backwards through the gym doors, brows jumping at your frozen form.

You amuse her. This much is obvious.

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

A rhythmic tap grabs your attention, a stark difference from the first time Abby came knocking. But to keep with tradition, she doesn’t arrive empty-handed.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, gesturing to the dishes balanced precariously in her arms.

“I wanted to.”

She sets the meal fit for an army battalion down onto the counter and searches your kitchen cupboards for something to drink from.

With a single, forceful movement of her forearm, she clears space by shoving your knick-knacks aside to make room.

“Juice cool?”

The way she effortlessly makes herself at home in your space leaves you speechless. You nod.

“Good,” she says, a repentant grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Pretty sure I’m off booze for the rest of my life.”

With the same delicate touch she used to tidy your countertop, she pours the freshly squeezed liquid, causing both glasses to hover on the verge of spilling. Abby takes a step back to assess the situation before bending over the rims, producing the most obnoxious slurping noise. It nearly sends you into hysterics as she levels out both glasses.

She hands one to you with droplets of orange decorating her chin and the collar of her shirt.

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Quality service right here. Plus, I love germs.”

Balancing the glass to the best of your ability in your right hand, you pull your sleeve over your left and use it to pat her face dry. Abby snorts, her normally lively body becoming static under your ministrations. She swallows heavily, and a calmness settles over you.

“I don’t have germs,” she pouts. Her eyes drop to your mouth for a split-second before her cheeks erupt in swaths of vibrant pink. “I swear.”

“You’re a mess,” you scoff, enamoured by this clumsy woman, blazing a path directly into the pit of your stomach. “Did you know that?”

As she nods, her broad shoulders relax, and her frenetic breathing begins to slow.

“Nobody else sees it,” she says, her words hanging heavy in the air.

The pressure of that emotional cargo would cause any person to buckle under the weight sometimes. It’s a strenuous life for everyone on base, but the expectations placed on her are especially burdensome.

“I see it.”

Your confession doesn’t offend her; instead, it seems to liberate her.

She sighs an exhale of relief, and it makes your heart squeeze.

“I can live with that,” she whispers.

The food was prepared with love as is anything set aside for Abby, and she tells you all about the cook who put it together. An original member of the Salt Lake crew, and a phenomenal chef, he got them through their bleakest days.

When the WLF opened their arms, he committed fully to helping Abby achieve her goals, working tirelessly to support her training and keep himself on the straight and narrow after their tragic end with the Fireflies.

She doesn’t go into detail about what happened, and your instinct is to let that be okay. The heart-wrenching rumours are more than enough to go on for now.

“He’s stoked for me to have a little downtime,” she says, waving her fork at the spread now spilling onto your coffee table across various plates. “Hence the whole smorgasbord situation. As soon as I told him—”

She pauses, letting out a little whimper of embarrassment, seeming to scold herself for being so open.

“Told him what?” you press, detecting a subtle grin playing at the edges of her eyes.

“He wanted to make an impression on my friend, I guess.”

Your neck tickles with heat and you attempt to ventilate by pulling the collar of your shirt away from your collarbone for a moment.

“The man can cook,” you say with your mouth full. It comes out funnier than you expected, muffled by chewing. “Sorry.”

“You’re quite a mess yourself,” she smirks, leaning to drape her arms along the back of your couch, scanning the state of your apartment. “Your poor books.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my books!”

She hauls herself off the couch to make an example of you, crouching at a cluttered stack. So, an earthquake must’ve hit only your room—what of it?

“I mean, this is just sad.”

“We can’t all have bookshelves and organizational skills, Anderson.”

“Says who?” she chuckles, her attention diverted by a novel that has piqued her curiosity. “This isn’t a lack of skill, either. Where’s your discipline, girl?”

Maybe it’s crouched in front of you, a blonde bombshell waiting to go off and properly reduce you to human rubble.

“I’m plenty disciplined, thank you very much.”

“Yeah?” she says, tongue tucked behind her teeth in challenge.

The audacity, when you’re currently over the moon about this delicious meal, you’ll likely never get to enjoy twice.

“Yeah,” you retort, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve like a feral beast. You strip off your shirt and toss it into the abyss, grabbing a clean one from its home on a toppling lamp.

Her bright bursts of laughter make you giddy, a woman who never finds time to play, sitting on your carpet waiting for you to join her.

“Who even are you?” she asks, and it’s so gentle it stops you midway through redressing to ponder her question.

The cotton tank top falls past your hips and you smooth it out, sensitive to the wrinkles in a way you haven’t previously been.

“It looks good,” Abby blurts, reading you like the sea of books strewn about. “You’re—good.”

There’s something about the fortitude of her honesty that helps you decipher between barbs and a genuine fondness for your idiosyncrasies.

Maybe she’s someone you can trust after all.

She shuffles across the floor to the bin filled with letters and lifts it above her head with ease.

“What on earth are you doing?”

As her brows jump mischievously, she dumps the skeletal remains of a past life onto your floor, filling the room with a waterfall of bones. It ignites a fierce desire to protect this girl—create a time capsule of this moment for the next generation to build upon.

A reminder that not all broken things are hopeless things.

“Well, now you’ve gone and ruined my tidy apartment.”

“My bad,” she giggles.

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

Each passing moment feels like tiny punctures in an hourglass, causing time to trickle away. You’re both aware of it, trying to stretch the night. Abby leaves for a spell to hunt down her chef, in pursuit of caffeine. She returns flushed and sleepy, the bitter aroma wafting through the door alongside her soothing presence.

Curiosity and exhaustion get the best of you, and you ask about her friend. His thoughts on your late-night rendezvous with history. She does a goofy impression that makes you want to wrap your arms around her, and you watch her in fascination like an old cowboy reel, projected onto your heart.

“He says you’re a bad influence.”

“Bullshit,” you snicker, tossing her another envelope.

“Okay, so he didn’t say that. But he did tell me to give him a heads up if I decide to run away with you.”

You try to push that thought aside.

“Really, now? And why does he think that’s in the cards?”

“He thinks you’re my dream girl.”

She speaks as if she’s describing weather patterns to you, and you’re bewildered. The blunt force of her words mixed with the softness of her tone leaves you shell-shocked. You search for a tether; silently categorize every reason it can’t be true.

“What did you tell him?” you ask, busying yourself with a letter you read while Abby was away.

A tale of woe between two quarrelling families. It reminds you of Romeo and Juliet, some less violent, modern-day version, and based on the contents of their struggle, you gather at least one of them was grateful for the pandemic.

“Do you really want to know?” she asks, pinning you with her gaze.

You nod, a buzz of energy flitting through you.

“Yes,” you say.

“I told him to go fuck himself.”

Cackles burst from your chest, finding her candour rather precious. Of course, Abby told the guy off. But she doesn’t look away after she tells you; doesn’t shrug or scoff. She studies your reaction and holds her breath until a tiny smile breaks her anxious expression.

You forget where you are in proximity to the earth for a second.

“I guess I’ll debrief you on that situation at a later date,” you say.

“I hope so.”

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

The sound of her steady breathing is peaceful as the light of early morning whispers through the fog. She idly sips at her coffee and takes her time, setting each letter into their respective piles. It’s engrained in her to keep things orderly, an obvious clash with your paper heap. Unlike you, she finds the government letters intriguing, even the boring ass mortgage and debt related ones, and reads them all thoroughly.

Your hand catches on an envelope shaped differently from the rest. Inside is a card, with a dozen raised hearts adorning the front in varying shades of red. When you flip it open, it reads:

With you by my side, every day feels like Valentine’s Day. Thank you for being my rock, my love, and my everything.

Your family never spoke of this while you were growing up.

“Valentine’s Day?” you yawn. “What’s that all about?”

You show her the card, and she rubs her eyes, nursing the tail end of her own yawn with the back of her hand.

“Give it here, woman.”

She looks it over to confirm her suspicions, and with a knowing smile, sits up straight. She taps the card against her knee.

“My dad told me about this.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s um—it’s a tradition people celebrated near the end of winter. A day to do things for the ones you love, I guess.”

“Like a holiday or something?”

“Sort of,” Abby says, fumbling a bit with her own understanding of it. “Romantic stuff, mostly.”

She rubs her neck, mulling something over while you try to wrap your head around this new information. One day out of the year to do what exactly? Who was supposed to do the things—both people? Did the traditions start after breakfast or were you meant to wait until suppertime? Was it an endeavour meant to last the entire day?

“My dad didn’t really make time to celebrate it,” Abby continues. “He was always too busy at the hospital and then my mom—well, she worked there too, so.”

The veil of exhaustion lifts when you realize she’s peeling back a wound right before your eyes. You suck in a breath and hope she doesn’t mistake it for anything but your desire to let her speak. She drops the card on her lap and wrings her hands.

“They did these small things instead, you know? On regular days,” Abby explains. Her body droops as she seems to pick through her retention of their conversations.

“Like what?” you ask, your voice just a hair above a whisper.

“Like—okay. My dad loved to dance,” Abby says, leaning forward with a sad smile, the slouch of her shoulders regaining composure at the happier memory. “He was fucking terrible at it,” she puffs a laugh. “But he was a music buff and when he met my mom, he said it was the best excuse he could find to get close to her.”

You ache for her to have them here to tell the story, instead.

“So, they danced together a lot?”

“All the time, according to him,” Abby says, her face lighting up. “He told me that my mom was super shy, so she’d always give him hell about it. But he’d ask her to dance pretty much anywhere. Parking lots, gas stations, one time they danced in the middle of the grocery store.”

You try to imagine what Abby’s mom looks like, but your mind can’t seem to conjure up anything beyond Abby’s own image, a showcase of strength and grit.

“Do you remember much about her?” you ask.

“Not really. She died when I was a baby,” Abby explains, adjusting the cuffs of her shirt. “She loved being pregnant with me, though, apparently.”

“Well, duh,” you murmur.

Abby crinkles her nose at you and bites the edge of her smile.

“Dad said her stomach got so big that he started dancing with her from behind. She’d rest her head on his shoulder, and they’d just sway back and forth.”

“I love that,” you say.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, fondness heavy on her breath.

Abby’s speech becomes slurred as the birds on your balcony greet the dawn.

“Every time they danced, the scent of her reminded him of a cabin in the woods, surrounded by these giant pine trees he used to pass on his way to work. He’d dream up this elaborate plan for them to quit their careers and live off-grid. I think he promised it to her about a thousand times.”

“That sounds kind of amazing, actually.”

“Yeah,” she says, tapping her nose with the Valentine’s card, her sleepy gaze drifting to yours. “He was a sap.”

She finishes with the most outrageously loud, cavernous yawn and you’re too tired to do much more than giggle at her larger-than-life spirit.

“You can crash on my couch again, if you want,” you offer.

She wobbles to her feet, reaching for your hand to help pull you up.

“I’m on assignment in a couple of hours anyway,” she says, supporting your elbows while you try not to slip on the paper graveyard below. “I’ll be MIA for a while, but let’s meet up when I’m back, if you’re up for it.”

“Totally.”

“Cool,” she whispers, her fingers tracing patterns on the tips of yours before reluctantly letting go.

As she turns to walk away, her steps falter, and she abruptly spins around to face you.

“Can I hug you goodbye?” she asks.

“Of course.”

Before you can blink, Abby’s arms wrap around you, and you’re a puzzle piece, snug in her embrace. She melts you from the inside out, the comforting rhythm of her heartbeat thrumming against your body. The heat of her chest against your cheek lifts blissful sleepiness from the edges of your resolve and a part of you wants to ask her to stay.

As she gently moves to cup your head and support the back of your neck with her warm hands, you instinctively wrap your arms around her waist, afraid she might drift away.

“I feel so safe right now,” you whisper into her shoulder, and she nuzzles closer, squeezing you tight. Your feet are nearly off the ground before she relaxes her grip.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

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

Two weeks have passed since your visit with Abby and it’s hard to think about much else. It’s a pleasant distraction, even when the memory of her makes your insides flutter as if she tipped a bucket of butterflies between your ribs and set them free.

An unusually large number of soldiers from different stations have packed the grounds, and you’re grateful to have a unique job to keep you relatively separate from the chaos.

Dogs are coming home, but not all of them, and it shatters your heart to toss out their registration papers. You understand the nature of your contribution to this war machine, but it never gets easier. If you could, you’d gather up all the puppies and take them to the same cabin in the woods Abby’s father always dreamed about. Let them bask in the warm sunlight and frolic together amidst a maze of towering trees.

It’s a lovely thought followed closely by the sobering reality before you.

“You’ve done well.”

You drop the leash you were holding, and it clatters on the concrete.

“Isaac. You scared me.”

If Abby is a rare sight at the stadium, Isaac is a ghost. You haven’t seen him in months. He has expanded the WLF across several locations along the west coast and the number is only growing. Reports of a nearby prison piquing his interest have been swirling for a while now.

You’re not sure where he rests his head at night, but it’s almost never here.

“It’s nice to see you too,” he says, inspecting the four-legged fleet without getting close enough to pet them. “I hear your training program is working wonders.”

“I try. They make it easy,” you say, noticing that many puppies have tucked their tails between their legs. “What brings you to the stadium?”

“I’m—restructuring,” he explains, his footsteps echoing as he paces the unit, meticulously inspecting the facility.

Your heart sinks.

“What does this have to do with me?”

He exaggerates a smile, and it sets you on edge.

“You always ask the right questions,” he drawls, heavy hands landing on your shoulders. “I respect that about you. There’s never any fat to trim, just straight to the point.”

It’s more than you can say about him, frankly.

“I suspect you’ve heard about the prison.”

“I have,” you say, bending to pick back up the leash. A narrow excuse to put space between the two of you.

Isaac is still standing uncomfortably close, so you wrap the nylon around your wrist as an act of self soothing.

“Well, it’s proving to be an integral training facility. It’s both secure and unaffected by the flooding, which has been my biggest obstacle up to this point.”

You’d never seen the inside of a prison before, but you’ve read about them. A cold cement cage without access to sunlight, its surface striped with iron. It offered zero curb appeal. You made it a priority to give your dogs a comfortable enclosure for that very reason.

“They need me here,” you say, desperate to get ahead of his plan. “This is where I’ll be most effective.”

“I disagree.”

Your arms tingle with an icy chill as he turns to walk in the opposite direction.

“You said I’ve done well here,” you call out.

“It’s true,” he says over his shoulder. “And your expertise will be crucial. Transport leaves at oh-six hundred.”

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

You should pack to leave, but you’re frozen.

Isaac isn’t one to sugarcoat things and for once, you wish he would’ve.

You curl up in a plastic chair on your balcony and take in the fields below. Neatly organized rows of vibrant crops bordered by fruit trees, bursting with hues of orange and red. Berries snaking through walls of trellis, sweet and ripe. People milling about with baskets of laundry and boxes of produce, keeping society peaceful.

“You should’ve married him,” Manny sighs, dropping beside you. His hand rests on your knee. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you admit, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “All these fresh faces, and I’m the only one leaving.”

Manny moves his hand to your arm, offering a kind squeeze.

“You are not the only one,” he says, handing you a clipboard.

It’s a short list of dogs you’ll be taking with you, and you’re caught between wanting to laugh at Manny’s ridiculous disposition or sob at your utter misfortune. You wish the dogs could stay behind. They love when the little ones throw the ball for them in the afternoon.

“I have a life here,” you say, and it’s a plea to the universe. “This is supposed to be my home.”

Manny offers you a freshly picked apple and you roll the waxy surface between your palms. The image of Abby’s face flashes in your mind. Maybe it’s silly to feel so much, but you can’t stop it. The weight of never seeing her again makes you nauseous.

“I’m fucked,” you groan.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you in.

“Keep your chin up, Hermosa. Something tells me you won’t be gone long.”

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

Hey you,

I’ve tried to write this about a dozen times, and I still don’t know where to start. Fuck it, right?

I barely know you and somehow you made me miss you so fucking much while I was away. When I got home and you weren’t there, it felt like someone shot me in the chest.

Manny brought me your bin of letters and I swear I cried for the first time in years.

How did you get under my skin so fast?

I hear you were sad when you left, and that breaks my heart. It kills me thinking of you being unhappy. I hate that you’re somewhere I know nothing about.

What is it like over there? Are you safe?

I check in on the kennels every day. You’re missed around here a lot.

Keep your head up for me. I’m going to make this right.

Please write me back,

A.A.

You’re busy fixing the fence with a skeleton crew when a delivery truck arrives, and someone throws a letter at you. The thrill of it causes your heart to pound in your throat, a rush of adrenaline washing over you. It takes every ounce of self control to keep from disappearing to read it somewhere private.

Trucks come and go regularly, as they divide resources between stations. Isaac seems to prioritize the prison, especially on the artillery front.

You finish reinforcing the fence and race to your cell to lose yourself in your first piece of mail.

You can’t wait to steal a pen to write her back.

Abby,

I read your letter every day.

Okay, maybe more like three times a day, but who’s counting? Seriously… this place has no concept of time and I’m pretty sure there isn’t a single clock to be found.

It makes me sad you were sad. I feel like we’re on a carousel of sadness! We should change that. (Have you seen a carousel before?)

The dogs aren’t doing too bad. They like the open fields here and they’re allowed to sleep in bed with these smelly ass soldiers, which I think is more for us than them, truly.

Thanks for checking in on my crew there. Means a lot.

My bed feels like a hard slab of steel because it is, but at least I don’t have to make it every day. Don’t tell Manny.

It’s nothing like the stadium here. We don’t have gardens and schools and we definitely don’t have a gym. I know, devastating! How will I ever beat you in an arm wrestle now?

The hot water is a work in progress, so I’m learning how to not die during cold showers. That’s also a work in progress, but I squeal less now. Which is something, right?

Try not to worry your beautiful head. I’m tough. I miss your face, though. There’s so much I want to ask you.

Please tell me something about you that nobody else knows. I promise I’m the best secret keeper, ever.

P.S.

If you find any letters from actual prisoners, be sure to fill me in. I feel like they’d have some great tips!

Yours truly,

You hope she lights up as much as you did when her letter arrives. It’s all you can hope for, aside from her safety and possibly a warmer blanket.

To: My Favourite Inmate,

You sure know how to make a girl laugh.

It’s good you don’t have clocks. That way, you can’t obsess over how long you’ve been gone the way I do.

Shit, I should send Manny over there for one of those cold showers. I gave him that polaroid we found, and he hasn’t come up for air in weeks.

It helps a bit to know those pups are there to keep you warm at night. I hope I can be that for you soon. I considered writing another letter because I was afraid to say it, but I think I want you to know. You belong in my arms.

Something I haven’t told anyone before…

Sometimes I miss being a Firefly, especially since things around here are getting worse by the day—but sometimes I guess I don’t want to be anything.

Maybe I’d like to try being just Abby for a while, you know? I’ve never tried that before. What do you think that would look like? Would you want to be a part of it?

I wish you were here beside me.

I’ve made it my mission.

A.A.

P.S.

When you wrapped your arms around me, it felt like lightning.

#abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #abby anderson #lesbian

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iamasaddie · 5 months

Text

webcam for beginners

paring: Dave York x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 3,7k~ warnings: power imbalance (boss/employee); age gap (reader mid to late 20s, Dave 45); mutual pining; f and m masturbation; a hint of voyeurism; dirty talk; not proof/beta read sorry; no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything a/n: a very special thank you to @noxturnalpascal for helping fellow sulking writers get out of the writing slump with this prompt/excersise! It definitely helped because i was stuck for more than two weeks unable to put out anything but a couple of fruitless ideas, but this I banged out in a day and now i feel so much motivation to continue writing it's insane! thank you hottie ily and you're honestly the purest gem of a human being <3

PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak). PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW)

*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum (yeh that one went splendid)

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

“Would you mind if I get a side job, Mr. York?”

You had been meaning to start this conversation earlier, like a month ago and definitely not when your employer and the father of two adorable baby girls David York was running late after dealing with burnt toast and spilled coffee courtesy of his eldest daughter. You stopped him right as he was about to leave his house, his hand frozen halfway to the keys laying on the shelf.

“Why? Don’t I pay you enough?”

“No, no of course not.” You shook your head. The last thing you wanted was to appear greedy when he already was paying you more than any family on the upper-middle class filled street would. "It’s not about that. It’s just…” You tried to gather your thoughts together, every line that you rehearsed in front of the mirror abandoning your head. “You know, I wasn’t going to make babysitting my whole profession, and since this is the last summer before I graduate, I’d love to have something remote so I could save up and take care of myself further on… I understand if that’s not something you… I just, it’s not even a job right now, I’d just take courses to get into the job and I can take those when the kids are asleep so it won’t affect them at all! You know I wouldn’t let anything affect them.”

“Jesus, dear, relax.” Dave listened to you patiently, finally placing both of his big hands on your shoulders, grounding you. He laughed merrily, and you felt a wave of embarrassment, hiding your eyes from his prying browns. “I can’t even get a word in. And I’d really like to because the word is yes, of course. You’ve been nothing but helpful these past months, and I am very appreciative of the fact that you warn me beforehand. Not that I thought you’d stay our babysitter forever, however pleasant the prospect is.”

Your eyes widened, surprise and happiness fighting for a place in the depth of them. "Really? You don’t mind?” You never thought Mr. York would full on refuse or fire you, but the fact that he let you do this freely without cutting your salary or suggesting you find a different time for this made your heart swell with joy. This man was a treasure, and he reminded you about that once again.

“No, I don’t. As long as girls get the same amount of your attention, you have the green light from me.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you Mr. York!” You didn’t even try to stop the urge to throw your arms around that man, jumping a little and almost squealing how grateful you were, chills erupting under your skin when you felt him return the innocent gesture and engulf your body with his arms and fresh smell.

He came back early that day, knowing that the girls were probably having their daytime nap, but excited at the prospect of spending his first evening in weeks with them together, as a family. Maybe he could even persuade you to stay for dinner. He scratched his chin, thinking if you’d be more inclined to stay if he ordered Chinese or Mexican, when he stumbled over one of the toys girls must have dropped. In an attempt to not fall, Dave spread his arms, grabbing the coat rack and steadying himself, but letting the rucksack that was hanging from it fall. He cursed under his breath, hoping that the noise didn’t wake his daughters, and crouched down to gather all the things that spilled from obviously your bag. He recognized the familiar items from your bag and held up a lipstick, smiling at the memory of Alice begging you to put it on her. You agreed, and he went to work with a tiny lipstick stain his baby girl left on his cheek when she said goodbye. He shoved most of the things inside, still reminiscing, when a bright book cover caught his attention. The title on the book cover read “Webcam for Beginners: A Step-by-Step Guide” . Confused about why you might have bought a book about webcams, Dave felt a pang of unease. Before he could go any further with his assumptions, he decided to open a seemingly boring guide book. Your rucksack fell back to the floor when he saw the contents of the thing. Right in front of his eyes there were dozens of tips, graphs with specific angles, various body parts all to make this the best guide book for future cam girls.

Fuck.

His back was covered with sticky sweat as he put the book on the key shelf, the one that was too high for his girls to try and play with his keys. His steps were slow, as Dave was still thinking what he was supposed to do with it, if he was supposed to do anything at all. After all, you were a free woman with her body autonomy, and he was just a single dad with a shady job and an ex-wife who spent all her waking hours trying to ruin his life.

On autopilot, he walked up the stairs, opening his daughters’ bedroom without making any noise. They were sleeping peacefully, trading two separate beds to sleep hugging each other in one, Alice’s. Dave smiled, softly, his heart soaring with love for his girls, when he heard loud breathing. He wasn’t dumb, so he didn’t even wonder what those noises were or where they were coming from. He strode to the end of the hall to where the guest room was located. The door was just slightly ajar and he shook his head, disapproving both you and himself but for very different reasons.

Damn, you were beautiful. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong, but once he got a first look at the beautiful expanse of your back, at the curve of your ass that he saw you tried to twist awkwardly this way and that so it looked better on the old laptop screen, he couldn’t be bothered with guilt.

Your attention was fully on the picture of yourself on the screen, and he couldn’t blame you, he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you either. Dave felt his pants become tighter, his blue shirt most likely sported a big damp stain on his back both from the august heat and the unbearable strain of his arousal. He saw you lean back from the camera, opening your naked thighs and trying to lift them up to see if it looked better that way, but that meant that the mic would barely pick your beautiful breathy moans that you tried to keep on the quieter side for the sake of the girls, Dave figured. Your left hand supported your weight as your right were busy between your thighs.

“You should move your camera closer if you want them to hear and see what you sell.”

The speed with which you covered your bare body was so fast that Dave thought he glitched for a moment.

“Mr. York!” Your eyes were as wide as they could physically be, horror written all over your face. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Dave let out a chuckle, striding into the room confidently and closing the door behind. “Aren’t you supposed to study for your new work?”

“I… Well, I,” you had nothing to tell him, no quick reply that could at least soften the blow. Nothing. And you were still very aware of your nakedness, even though you covered your front as much as you could, your back that faced the wall was still visible. Your old laptop created steady brown noise as the hard drive fought for its life with the editing and video recording app still going.

“You already were, weren’t you?” Dave slowly approached and sat down on a comfortable chair right in front of the bed. His dick was painfully hard for the last ten minutes since he had found that stupid book and imagined what you did with it.

“I’m sorry, I know how it looks, but I’m…”

He interrupted you with a hand gesture, “I don’t care what you choose to do with your body, dear. It’s yours for a reason, and I have no say. I’m no one to you.”

You felt both a relief and a sense of disappointment washing over you. Mr. York was right, he was no one to you, just a man with two adorable little daughters who paid you to look after them. He didn’t have to take the responsibility for your little crush on him. You smiled still, a warm happiness spreading all over your insides because you were right, and he wasn’t one of those conservative bastards. He respected your choice and he… Wait, why was he still in the room, his eyes not leaving your body, lips wet with a fresh coat of saliva from his tongue.

“Mr. York…”

“I’d like it very much if you called me Dave.”

You nodded, and started over.

“Dave, why are you still…” you finished your sentence by pointing your finger around the room.

“I thought I could help you,” he stated nonchalantly, manspreading his legs wide and letting you see the stiff outline of his cock even through the material. “I saw your little book,—”

"You what?”

“- on accident. Thought I might help you, since you did nothing but help me all these past weeks. I do know how a good cam girl can sell herself, from a buyer’s point of view.”

You felt another wave of heat washing over your body, but this time it was of a different origin. This man - this gorgeous, smart man - suggested you to help with… what exactly? You didn’t let yourself ponder about it too much, just agreeing to whatever he wanted to give you. Anything, even just a hungry gaze from him spiked your arousal harder than any porn you’d ever watched. Dave’s face twisted in a cocky smile, the one he gave you instead of saying ‘I told you so’, whenever he was right and you were wrong. The one that made you wanna kiss it off his face.

“How are you going to… help?” Embarrassment wasn’t a feeling you’ve experienced a lot, otherwise the choice of what you were about to do would’ve been the wrongest one ever, but somehow with him you felt like a virgin schoolgirl, despite being ten years older than one, and a dozen dicks more experienced.

“Well, for starters, I guess you’ll need to drop that blanket.”

Your throat bobbed, a thick glob of saliva barely passing down with how tense you were. There was nothing to be ashamed of, or shy about, but Dave… Goddamnit, it would be so much easier if you didn’t have a crush on him.

As if reading your hesitation right from your face, he put his wide palm on his crotch, pressing down a little.

“Would it be easier for you to show me yours if I showed you mine?”

You choked on air from his proposition, you wanted to see that man naked for as long as you can remember, sizing him up in his tight slacks and crisp shirts every time he went away for work. Going as far as coming thirty minutes earlier in hopes to see that man leaving the shower in a towel. God, you were such a creep, you cringed at yourself. Dave interpreted your face differently, his own coming from a hungry excitement to confusion and embarrassment?

“We don’t have to…” He placed both his hands on the arms of the chair preparing to stand up and leave, but you didn’t let him, dropping the material that covered your body and exposing yourself to him.

“No, no, no! I want to.” You hurried to give him the most pleading face you could manage, “I really want to. I wanted for a while, actually.”

The smirk returned in his face as quickly as it went away, and he was back in the role of the leader, someone with control. “Really?”

Instead of replying, you spread your legs, showing off your bare glistening pussy, that was now more wet than after you played with it.

“Oh, fuck. Well, that’s a good start, baby.”

You almost moaned as you heard him calling you baby. You’d had dreams in which he would pound into your pussy with abandon and call you baby, his baby. Your hand traveled from the column of your neck to the valley between your breasts, sliding left and pinching the hard bud of your nipple.

Dave didn’t go down on his promise, making a quick work of his pants and reaching out to pull his cock through the slit on his boxers.

Oh, how fucking gorgeous his cock was. You felt your mouth competing with your pussy over who would produce more wetness at the sight of his beautiful thick shaft topped with a fat tip that was just a little grittier than the rest of him. The red color of the head as well as the precum pooling in his slit told you that he’d been hard for a while now, and you felt proud for making him this aroused. Dave took his cock between the tips of his thumb and two fingers, bobbing it up and down and watching your eyes follow the movement, hypnotized by it. Emboldened by his openness, you felt every bit of hesitation drain from you. In that moment you were nobody but two beautiful bodies that desired pleasure, there was no room for shame.

“So what would sell me for you, Dave?”

His gaze darkened, brown of his eyes matching the wet stain of arousal that you left on the simple sheets. Dave licked his lips, his tongue slowing down on the plush lower one, and tightened the gip on his cock, not yet moving.

“Make sure that the camera catches how wet your pretty cunt is, and don’t be shy. At least, not too shy.”

“Doesn’t innocence sell?”

“Innocence in your voice and looks, not your actions, baby.” While the words settled in your brain, you tried to keep your hands away from your cunt, your entrance pulsing around emptiness, trying to suck anything in to fill you up. “Move the laptop, after all we’re learning the tricks of the trade here.”

You moved your old Lenovo from the edge of the bed to sit between your spread legs. You saw the reflection of your glistening folds on the screen, but made sure that you weren’t obscuring the view for Dave.

“Now touch her,” Dave’s command was barely audible, his voice hoarse and a bit strained. “Tell me how good she feels. I need to practically feel her on my fingers.”

“You can,” you whispered, transfixed on the image of your fingers trying to spread the slick lips of your pussy.

You didn’t see him nod, telling you that he understood your implication, “I can, but they can’t.”

Fuck, your head snapped up to look at Dave’s face, but stopped at his dick, his head almost purple with how violently he was choking it. You returned your gaze to the screen, thinking that you could come just from the image of Dave getting himself off.

“My pussy,” you started hesitantly, closing your eyes for a moment and letting yourself just feel through your fingertips. “She feels really, really good. So soft and,” your index and middle fingers started tracing the outer lips, sometimes slipping inside, teasing you, “and so wet.” Your fingers slipped on your wetness proving your words, and slid lower, where you felt desperately empty. “So wet my fingers just want to slip inside.”

You heard a distinct spitting sound, and lifted your eyes once again just in time to see Dave’s palm, wet with his saliva, close around the throbbing shaft of his cock. You bit your lip hard, like you were the one feeling Dave’s relief. The sting of the bite piercing your lip helped you return to reality, which was in no way worse than a dream. Your fingers slowly caressed your pussy, thumb circling your clit in long-learned movements that sent jolts of pleasure up your spine. The lewd sounds of you spreading your slick all around your lips and Dave’s hand stroking up and down his cock combined together, as your rapid breaths tried to tie up with them in a unique symphony.

Dave’s eyes never left your pussy. The angle wasn’t perfect, but he could see your dripping core illuminated by the light of the computer screen like it was the star of the show. No, it was the star of the show. Your beautiful, shining lips puffy and swollen with your teasing, your fingers slippery and your clit throbbing, begging. Dave’s eyes went dry and he forced himself to blink.

“Come on, baby, fuck yourself on those little fingers. I need to know how good she feels inside.”

You simply nodded, surprised to realize that this was exactly what you were waiting for, for him to tell you. Your fingers eagerly slipped inside, two at the same time, and your whimpers made you sound pathetic but pleased.

“Good girl,” Dave all but growled, his hand tightening around his head to stave off the embedding orgasm. He wasn’t romantic enough to calculate for you to come together, but he wanted you to come first at least. “Is she tight, baby? Is that pretty cunt hungry? I see her just sucking your fingers in like it’s nothing.”

You felt your body cover with a sheen of sweat like it was your second skin. You should’ve chosen a different position, or at least lean on the bedpost, but now there was no way you’d move so you had to keep your body up with one hand while letting the other one fuck into your pussy, with your legs spread as wide as the fucking horizon. Dave was right, your pussy welcomed your fingers with ease, it wasn’t the first time you filled her today, but you felt the disappointing lack of girth mentally comparing your slender digits with Dave’s meatier ones. Your brows knitted in frustration as you continued fucking your fingers into your squelching entrance.

“She’s so hot, and wet,” your words were interrupted by your own carefully quiet moans but you didn’t stop speaking. “So tight, but she would be tighter around yours.”

“Good job, baby,” David nodded, resuming the stroking of his cock, gentler this time. “Tell them, make them want to be there with you.”

“Fuck them, oh” you tried to push your fingers deeper and deeper, touch that exquisite spot, something you just knew Dave would do easily, but your fingers were not fit for that, “I’m talking about your fingers, Dave. They would feel so good inside me.” You almost cried, sweat from extortion and a single tear mixing together on your cheeks.

You saw York’s jaw clench as if he was physically in pain, “do you think you can handle these fat fingers, little thing?”

As soon as he said it, your eyes were glued to two of his fingers - index and middle - that he put up, holding them next to his lips and then giving them a slow wet suck.

Your body shuddered in a pre-orgasmic convulsion and you squeezed your eyes shut the image of him imprinted on your eyelids. “Yes, yes, I can, she can. She’d be so tight and wet for you, you’d spread her so wide with your fat fingers.”

“Show me,” he ordered, and you didn’t even think before falling on your back and squeezing two fingers of your other hand inside your pussy, spreading it apart and showing him the most hidden, and intimate part of yourself shamelessly. The air hit your heated core with cruel coldness, but you just accepted the wild contrast, making it excite your burning skin even more.

“Oh God, you perfect little thing, fuck yourself,” he prompted, his voice hurried and feverish, just like his movements, “fuck your wet little pussy with your fingers, come on.”

You would never be tired of obeying him, you thought, keeping just two of your fingers inside and letting the other hand caress your abandoned clit. Your movements became synchronized, no way to know who adjusted to who, but creating an illusion of something both of you silently wanted for some time now. You forced your eyes to open, moving your head so you could see Dave in the armchair looking back at you. All the words have been forgotten in the desperate chase for pleasure. Your eyes roamed each other dripping like raindrops from the disheveled hair, to furrowed in concentration brows, from wet lips to the dip in beneath the column of the neck, filling up with sweat; low low low to the moving hands, jealous of each other’s limbs and digits, internally begging to be their replacements. You wanted your whole body to become a vessel of Dave’s pleasure; he wanted to dive inside your cunt and suffocate in its wetness and warmth.

“Come on, baby,” he gritted through his teeth, “come for me, give it to me, come on.”

Both your hands sped up in an attempt to finally reach that peak, and no matter how unromantic David thought himself to be, your orgasms spilled out of you with less than a second of difference.

Your body convulsed with after-shocks while Dave hissed, letting go of his cock and closing his eyes for the first time this evening.

“The book was more helpful, but it was more fun with you.” You quipped joyfully, and Dave lifted his head that felt like it weighed at least a thousand pounds from the back of the chair, looking at you.

The smile that you directed at the ceiling was radiant, and he couldn’t contain one of his. Dave looked at your wasted body, and suddenly it was his turn to feel hesitant and shy. Still, he gathered the leftover composure and stood up, moving towards the bed where you still laid with your eyes closed and lips stretched with joy.

“Maybe we could put some of the tips to use, to see if they work?”

You opened your eyes, immediately finding his.

“I wouldn’t say no to that.”

please leave a comment if you liked what you read

#Dave York x reader #dave york x female reader #dave york x you #Dave York x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #iamasaddie fic

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soft-for-them · 1 year

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Palm readings and tulips - Roman Godfrey x plus size reader

Summary: You and Roman are close, best friends even. You think he doesn't love you despite everything pointing to him loving you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Before writing this I hadn't watched Hemlock Grove since I was like fourteen so at this point in time I've only re-watched the first few episodes so the characters are probably way ooc. Not proof read.

Since turning eighteen, aka a legal adult, you’ve realised that you still don’t have the power to do much at all. You’re still learning to drive despite knowing that you won’t be able to afford the cost of a car on your own. You’re working part time and you’re still somehow waking up every morning to go to school which seems to never end.

Then there’s Roman.

Best friends since your family moved to Hemlock Grove when you were twelve, the promise of a job at the steel mill shattered as soon as you arrived, Roman has always been generous with his disposable wealth when it comes to you.

Roman Godfrey with his fancy little red car always filled with fuel, his house always open to you when you don’t feel safe at home, his disregard for the price of anything him choosing to always pay for your shopping the rare time he stalks around a shop with you when he’s not busy bedding other people. With a flick of a wrist he can get anything he wants no fake ID or drop of his prestigious name needed, though he does the latter one regardless, Roman Godfrey has the world at his feet.

Maybe that’s why you’re forever thinking up reasons why he’s still friends with you.

As you bang you head on your dull green locker, no one around the hallways to stop you for most if not all the students have been killed in gruesome bloody ways only leaving the younger students and the less than savoury upper-classmen left. To think, if you didn’t have someone like Roman following you around like a shadow then you’d probably be mauled to death in a ditch somewhere.

What a lovely thought that is indeed.

Raising you head you look down the hall, only small clumps of people mulling around, a larger group of tall teens clad in baggy clothes huddled around some lockers probably looking at something indecent catching you attention.

“I am an adult for crying out loud.” you mutter to yourself as you check you book bag filled with heavy textbooks and you large novelty pencil case, “I should be out of this fucking town.”

Then a loud obnoxious laugh, one that sounds more like some exclaiming ‘HA!’ than a proper laugh echoes down the hallway reminding you that nothing good ever comes from such fake laugh.

So with a reluctant sigh you mosey over to the group of boys, not caring that you look half dead in your oversized baseballs jersey and baggy mom jeans, your bag clutched in your hands ready to use it as a weapon.

“Alright fuckers what you looking at now?” you holler as you squish in between two towering boys who smell like B.O and dress like nul metal band rejects.

The best outcome is that they’re all ogling at a magazine of scantily clad women or huddled around a small screen of a phone looking at social media but no, sitting against a locker looking horrified is none other than Shelley Godfrey.

Her long faux hair droops over her entire face as she tries to look as small as possible, her long grey cardigan pooling on the dirtied checked floor of the hallway, her arms holding onto her speaking tablet with an inhuman clutch.

Your face turns stern, tired eyes showing how pissed off you are, the very small amount of power you have in this supernatural town bubbling up.

Most all the boys huddled around you both are way taller, a couple of the shorter ones plus size like you, so really you are outnumbered in every way including size. However, somehow the remaining gaggle of teenage boys who roam the school have an odd resect for you. Much like how Roman, when he’s not fucking someone or completely gone like he was never alive, they follow you around school like lost puppies finding you entertaining, your straightforward and sarcastic wit making you ‘one of the boys’.

That and you’re one of the very few teens who Roman hasn’t bedded, some of your classmates almost seeing you like a challenge for surely soon enough Roman will fuck you too. You’ve overheard them talk about you like this many times, too many for your liking and you have mixed feeling about how they see you. On one hand some people see this plum young woman who must be next on Roman’s conquest of fucking every person he can whilst others see you as just ‘the fat girl’ and nothing else.

For once in your life you’d like to be seen as more than a piece of meat but I digress, you’d much rather have the respect of these teenagers than have their ogling eyes look you up and down like your either their next fuck or next bullying target.

“What? Her wing was falling off, it’s funny (y/n).” one smiles thinking that you’re going to happily chuckle alone with them.

Honestly you feel too much like a mother goose sometimes, these greasy teenagers your rebellious children who think you’d laugh along with them at such cruelty.

“Oh! FUNNY LIKE BREAKING YOUR DICK!” you shout at the top of your lungs, everyone is a five mile radius knowing it’s you shouting out your secret knowledge.

No one other than you and the gaggle of lanky teens surrounding you know who you’re exactly talking about however everyone else will have a fun time trying to guess who ‘broke’ their dick and hopefully the humiliation with hammer into their head not to mess with Shelley Godfrey again.

“Come on (y/n)!” one scoffs whilst another gives you a “not cool bro.” to no avail.

“Where’s your brother?” you ask in you softest voice as you crouch down to Shelley’s height ignoring the scattering boys who try to do damage control now that everyone, which isn’t a lot compared to the beginning of the year, has heard what you shouted.

Speak of the devil Roman appears out of nowhere crouching down beside you as you talk softly to Shelley.

“Where the fuck have you been rich boy?” you scoff as you turn your head to look at your childhood befriend.

“How did you know Tyler broke his dick?” Roman retorts back with a handsome smile.

You ignore him, instead you help Shelley up.

“I’m not a blushing virgin Rom-“ you smile up to Shelley silently nodding asking is she’s ok which gets you a smile back before looking back to Roman, “- me and his brother was in the middle of some things when that idiot fell in the shower screaming bloody murder ‘My dick’s broken, my dick’s broken!’.”

You were having fun too, it’s not that often that a hot guy genuinely takes an interest in you let alone a hot college type who can take you wondering mind off Roman Godfrey, but then his idiot younger brother had slipped whilst belting out pop tunes in the shower making everyone in the house hold privy to the fact he hurt his member.

It was quite easy sneaking out whilst his family crowded around the bathroom, though your thoughts where quickly back of Roman.

As of late all you’ve been thinking about is Roman, that and escaping Pennsylvania but mostly of Roman’s stupidly handsome face.

Him looking at you now with eyes so filled with emotion, most of which you can’t decipher makes you almost blush and fumble. However before you can blurt out your feelings for the guy who used to follow you around town whilst you caught bugs or explored the library instead of going home you offer your arm to Shelley stating that you’re going to take her to her class.

Shelley takes your arm with a small smile, a faint glow of blue like a firefly radiating from under her fringe. Roman follows closely behind you protectively, his heart filling up with an emotion he hasn’t properly felt in his life.

Love.

Roman Godfrey, the most powerful person in school, the man who is your shadow, in love with you.

“He’s not happy with you (y/n).” Peter says between puffs of his cigarette the two of you sat at the front of his static home.

He offers the cigarette to you but you refuse it.

“He’s never happy with me lately.” you say not believing a word that comes from your lips, you don’t think Roman has ever be properly angry or disappointed in you.

“You know that’s a lie.” Peter says nudging your arm as you stare off into the distance to the house upon the hill.

“Peter, don’t contradict yourself.” you hit his arm back.

Ever since Peter Rumancek moved here you’ve been spending more and more time with him, well not as much as Roman has but you’ve been spending more time with the shaggy haired man then at home.

“What I mean is that annoyed at you.” as Peter talks you lean you head down on his shoulder, the late afternoon slowly fading into sunset, the air around going cold.

“How so?” you ask looking up at him.

“Something about a brother and you helping his sister.”

“Ah, that.”

Sighing, nuzzling your face into Peter’s bicep you try to figure out how to explain to him the situation that you hadn’t even realised was a situation until now.

So you explain it to him. In as little words as possible you recount the story of having a one night stand with a classmate’s older brother and the ensuing hilarity that you used as leverage to help Shelley.

“He really likes you.” Peter says bringing his hand up to pat your head as you slump down more into his arm like it was a pillow on your bed.

“Of course he does Peter, we’ve been friends since I was twelve.”

You don’t want to really explain anything more to Peter because you know exactly what he’s trying to get out but surely someone like Roman can’t like you back, right?

And from that conversation sometime later the next week you find yourself sat awkwardly on a throw covered blue sofa, a decorative pillow on your lap and Peter by your side fully relaxed.

Destiny has been kind to you the half an hour you’ve been here, she’s offered you tea, told you embarrassing stories about Peter and genially been hospitable and nice however as she breaches the subject of who you’re hear you start to feel nervous.

It was Peter’s idea, he had been the one to bring up Destiny’s palm readings curtsey of Peter you’re getting the palm reading for free. You’re not some naive little girl any more so you can take whatever Destiny gives you. Unlike the bigots of the town who think Destiny is scamming people out of their money because she is Romani you’re hopeful that she can give you a good reading and get Peter off you back to boot for he has been trying to tell you that Peter like likes you all week.

But still you’re nervous and jittery.

Destiny asks for your hands which you reluctantly hold out.

“I know you’re probably really good at this-“ you begin as she cradles your hands, your palm upward facing, Destiny leaning over to look at them, “-but I don’t need you tell me if I’m going to have kids or if I’m going to rich.”

Your eyes flicker between her and Peter.

“That’s no entirely how this works.” Destiny grins as Peter touches your arms to try to calm you down, “Anyway from what Peter has told me we may only need to look at your heart line.”

“Heart line?”

“Love.”

“Oh! Yeah, love…” your face scrunches up in worry, “Sorry, I’m not saying you’re a fake or anything but I, well, I already know who I love already, I just haven’t done anything about it so I don’t need a reading for that.”

She smiles, the dimpled lines either side of her mouth appearing as she does, her eye sparkling with curiosity.

“Peter you should have brought her over sooner.” she says eyes trained on you, “Shall we begin then?”

You nod a quick yes.

She begins tracing your palms, her fingers light but slow as she figures out both your past and your future form just the curved line of your hands.

“This hand-” Destiny begins cradling your non dominant hand, “- this one show your past.”

Her manicured finger traces a long line slightly jagged and curved.

“You’ve been through a lot.” she states, not trying to get anything out of you but allowing you to speak if you want to, “I assume it’s to do with your family.”

Two hours later Peter is leading you out of Destiny’s flat, a promise to visit again as a friend promised to her, tear soaked tissues stuffed up your sleeves and Peter holding you hand as he leads you onto the street now bathed in yellowing streetlamp light.

“That was a lot.” you try to upbeat but all that comes from you lips is a solemn exhale, “Promise you won’t tell anyone about all that?”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand squeezing yours in a silent ‘yes’.

“Not even the bit about twelve year old you falling in love with Roman?”

“Shut up.” you laugh as you knock your shoulder into his back playfully, “Now walk me home.”

The next day after Destiny’s palm reading you’re overthinking too much so much so you get a headache that can only be cured by taking a long mid-morning nap.

Thankfully it’s the weekend and you don’t have work but unthankfully as you groggily wake up from your impromptu nap you hear the tell tell signs of one Roman Godfrey lowering himself down on top of your crowded double bed, his nicely dressed frame clashing with the teddy bears and old granny floral sheets of the bed.

“You climb through my window or something?” you ask as you drag yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring the fact your face comes dangerously close to Roman’s.

“No one’s here (y/n) so I used the key underneath the front door mat.”

“Liar-” you joke as your rearrange your twisted t-shirt on your plush body, “-the key is under the pot Rom, you know, the one with the dead tulips.”

You both maybe siting side by side, you under the covers and him fully clothed, but you can see his growing smile on his smug face from the side of his face, mischief soon to come.

“What, stop smiling like that and spit it out.”

His smile grows into a clown like grin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He bends down to the side to pick something off the floor. On hand latches onto your leg anchoring him down as he bends down hanging his other arm off the bed, warmth rising in your face at the rather forward action.

He rises bringing, what at first you think is a wad of paper, up but as you look closer you see the paper is combined with translucent pink plastic in a cone shape holding flowers in place.

Flowers.

Now just any flowers but blood red tulips, much more vivid and alive than the ones that used to live by your front door. And they’re not some supermarket type flowers either, there’s no barcode stuck to the plastic or creasing on the paper from where they’ve been sitting in a pot with other bouquets of flowers. No, they’re big, new and most certainly handmade, so perfectly arranged that they must have cost too much, well too much for you anyway.

For Roman it probably was nothing at all, his wallet still filled with too much money.

You must be frozen in place for Roman, one hand still on your leg, passes over the bouquet of tulips.

“Why you got these for?” you ask.

“I don’t like seeing you sad.” he says leaning closer so your noses almost touch.

“I’m not sad.” you try to smile, your eyes flickering between the blood petals and his sharp mesmerising eyes.

“I saw you yesterday with Peter, you were crying.”

Despite there being a thin blanket separating your bare legs from his hands you can feel him stroke patterns near your knee.

“Then why didn’t you come over then? You know I’ll always have you.” you words come out wrong for you were trying to say that he’s always welcome in your home though I guess the growing bubbling feeling of love has impaired your mind just a bit.

As your eyes look at the flowers you miss the hungry, almost monstrous look flash in Roman’s eyes, his pupils going large. It takes all his strength not to grab you and kiss you all over making you his.

He won’t even tell you either that last night another classmate died, that he was trying to investigate it.

“I’m taking you out.” he demands.

“Ok.” you say feeling that you can't decline, the thought of it being a date pushed out your mind for Roman always seems to be spending money on you, “Let me get dressed first Rom.”

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey x plus size reader #hemlock grove #hemlock grove x reader #hemlock grove x plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader

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riniworld · 2 months

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A BOND LAST FOREVER

yandere!knight oc x princess reader

warnings// mention of killing? i don't think there's anything more

reference// you,m'lady,your highness-majesty,y/n.

a/n// I'm kinda satisfied with that-

edit// okay i overthink, i didn't want to do it like that in first but then it's just hit me that if i made him just want power and starts to slowly falling for the reader it'd be better-now i guess I'm kind of regret it.

It is the third day of the death of the queen and your sister,no one knew the murderer and you didn't dare to say it was senor maybe out of fear from the look that was on his eyes that day or maybe because he's the only one who treated you right....and you still love him.

either way here he is free and became your personal knight,you can't even look at him without shivering you still see the blood on his hands, your relationship became tense or for you at least,he's acting all normal not like he killed the ruler of the kingdom herself!,he did apologize a few times to you but it wasn't a realistic apologising he don't feel guilty you can see it in his eyes.

despite all of this you have now a new anxiety,the court and privy council are discussing if you're suitable to be the next ruler, few of the servants knew about you being an Illegitimate daughter of the king and the old ones only and the council as well of course.

you never wanted the throne nor you dreamt about it,you know how hard it is to rule a whole kingdom and you don't know anything about ruling,but also The people need a ruler and the queen didn't have any relative the only one was her daughter and they two had gone..now you're the only one in the line.

the cup of tea in your hands has become cold a while ago,you're sitting in your garden lost in thought,snapping out of your thoughts when someone take the cup out of your hands,it's senor.

"what are you thinking about,m'lady?" he ask and put the cup on the table

you look at him for a minute before you replay "about everything happening now." you look at the ground not able to keep the eye contact.

he put his hand on your shoulder "don't worry too much,you're capable of it." he smile at you, a smile made your heart warm.

you exhale "i hope so." you say unsurely.

senor pause for a second before he kneel at your feet,cupping your hands in his "You were born to be a ruler,there's nothing to be anxious about you've got everything to rule a kingdom the right way....just like your father."

His words made you feel at ease knowing someone is there to support you in any time,for a second you forget what senor had did and he's the one who put you in this situation.

before you replay you two hear a footsteps coming your way and with last squeeze to your hands senor stand up to stand behind you,your relationship is still a secret after all.

a maid approach you and bows a little before speaking "your highness,the council has arrived and they're waiting for you in the guest room." right one of the benefits from the queen's death is that everyone stopped ignoring you.

you nod "I'll head to them right away,thank you for telling me."

the maid bow again before she head to her work.

you stand from your chair nearly knocking it off but luckily senor was there to catch it,as long as he's here everything going to be perfect, just keep relying on him.

you walk to the guest room million of thoughts running in your head,when you stand in front of the big door you take a deep breath and buff your chest high,making a steady face one of the things you learn from your father is that maintain a steady posture even if you're about to cry,when you try to open the door a hand stop you.

"let me,m'lady" senor opens the door for you.

all the members of the council stand up and bow,you also bow your head a bit, senor kept standing in the door and you sit down.

"good evening,your highness" one of them speak first.

"first we're really sorry for your lose,the queen was a good person to the entire kingdom be sure we all are sad to lose her and her daughter" a man seems to be old enough to have even meet your father in his young age speaks like he's really in the verge of tears.

"thank you for your kind words i appreciate it." you say politely.

senor's hand tighten around the hilt of his sword, there's no need for all the long talk is there? it's already difficult enough for him to see you give attention to another!

"yes, it is indeed a misery for the kingdom, but as you know your highness The people need someone to rule them and there is no one on the suggestion list but you...unfortunately." the last one speak in a stern tone..rude.

"yes, i understand." you try hard to not show the anxiety in your voice.

"After we discussed this several times...Due to the lack of suggestions to rule the kingdom, we unanimously decided to give you the rule as you're the only suitable person available" the one who greeted you say with a small smile and the others nod.

you stayed silent don't know what to say, is that really right? will you be capable on ruling the kingdom like the queen was? You clasp your hands together and squeeze them tight.

"don't worry,your highness we won't let you alone in this, someone will come and teach you everything you need to know about ruling a kingdom as he is an expert on the history of the kingdom and his father studied your father when he was going to become the next king so you'll be familiar with him beside he's near your age." The person who consoled you about the queen's death speak.He seemed to have noticed your anxiety.

You gathered your strength to speak, you can't seem weak now "it-s an honor for me to know that you see me as suitable for such a great position. I will do my best not to disappoint you and to rule this kingdom as my parents did before."

"we hope so too, as you know that too risky because no one ruled this kingdom except those of royal blood before, so we hope our decision not wrong" the rude one say.

another one clear his throat "if you'll excuse us now,your highness we have to go, it was an honor talking to you,we expect the tutor to arrive in the next week." when he finish everyone stand up,and you as well.

"I'll be waiting,thank you for your visit."

you shake hands with all three of them and asked some servants to escort them.

when they left,you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding "oh god that was exhausting"

"how about we go to your room to take a rest,m'lady?" senor suggest as he come to your side.

"yes,that would be good"

as soon as you enter the room you throw yourself in your bed and bury your face in your pillow,senor close the door behind him and sit on the edge of the bed.

he reaches his hand for yours,you flinch when he take it but let him anyway,he start kissing it all over,You move your head to the side fighting a giggle threatened to escape "what got into you?" you couldn't hold your smile back.

he say between the kisses "you gave-alot of attention to them-i want some too."

now you can't hold your giggles anymore "you big baby." you tease.

he moves all the way to your neck,it's ticklesh "come on now stop,i want to sleep."

senor lift his head up and look into your eyes before he sigh and sit straight "fine."

you give a final smile and close your eyes,it's not even a minute before you hear metal hit the ground when you open your eyes you see senor taking his armor off left with a plain white pajama,you sit straight nearly choking on the air.

"what are you doing?!" you whisper shouted afraid someone will come in any time.

senor look at you with innocent look and sit beside you covering you both in th blanket "isn't it obvious,m'lady? taking a nap with you." he say like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"what if-what if someone came in and saw you?!"

"no one will come in without your permission." before you can respond he covers your heads under the blanket and lie down before he pulls you in his chest. "now sleep well,m'lady." then he close his eyes pretending to sleep

you sigh not able to complain,finally you let yourself drift to dream land,not knowing that someone won't sleep staring at you.

after two days(Note: the coronation ceremony does not happen like this in reality it's just my au!!)

It's your coronation ceremony day, today you will officially become queen of the kingdom and rule it.

the maids are doing your makeup and your hair,you've never been the senter of attention,always sitting in the corner on the masquerades and balls,so you're extra anxious,especially must of the nobles will be here tonight.

the maids put the last touches,you asked them to leave you alone for a minute to prepare and they did.

when they left you hear a knock on the door and immediately knew it was senor so you give permission to enter as you need someone to calm you down.

senor enter and closed the door quickly,when he laid his eyes on you he become speechless.

oh god his heart beat quickly like it's gonna ripe through his chest...his face flush red and his breath quicken,he want to run away to not ruin you right here and there,he don't know why he's feeling like that,that's not his goal!.

when you feel like he's staring too much you panic,maybe out of nervousness "isthereanythingwrongwithmyfaceisitmyhairorismydresstoorevealing?!" you talked fast to the point you didn't understand yourself.

"no-no you're perfect-beyond perfect i don't know if I'm willing to let you set your foot out this door" senor said while he was still far away from you.

"i don't know how this supposed to make me feel" you sit down and put your head between your hands "ugh! I'm so nervous i don't know what to do!" you look at senor without lifting your head up "why are you even standing there? sit."

senor kept standing in his place "believe me it's better for the two of us,m'lady."

you look at him weirdly before you hear your name called from the other side of the door.

you walk down the aisle all the eyes on you,senor is holding you arm 'just for safety'.

you've meet people for the first time,some who was your sister friend some who knew the queen and even some who knew your father very well.

senor was glued to you side the entire time,and you swear you've seen the danger in his eyes again.

"tell me if someone made you uncomfortable so I'll have a word with them" "senor no-"

After the coronation, all the required ceremonies, and the oath of loyalty,now everyone just enjoy they're time,dancing,drinking and eating.

you were taking a drink to ease your mind when someone approaches you.

he take your hand and bow "may i,have the honor to dance with your majesty?"

he seems to be son of a duke you think you've seen him before,you were about to accept when someone snatched you hand from his....right,senor.

the man look offended "the audacity!,who do you think yourself?"

"your majesty i need to talk to you for a bit,may we go somewhere more...private?" senor whispered in your ear,but it was enough for the man to hear.

you look at senor before nodding,you excuse yourself and go with him.

giggles echo the garden as senor take you running to somewhere,you ran difficulty because of your dress and your shoes but you won't deny it was fun,the last time you ran like that was when you were a kid.

senor stopped at the end of the garden, close to the fence where no one would get there,he catch his breath and speak "have your nervousness ease a bit,m'lady?" he asked between his panting.

and you weren't any better as the garden was very large "was that your goal from all of this?"

senor shrug "part of"

"well,what is so important that you had to kidnap the queen herself from the ceremony?" you say jokingly

senor laugh but cut it shortly and look at you with serious expressions "y/n..you know that i love you" he say carefully

you look at him confused "i..do,what is your point?"

"and i'm very serious about you and I don't care if our state are completely different"

"why you say that all of a sudden?"

"well.." senor take a deep breath Before he kneels one one knee,your breath stops as you know where this is going to "I've thought about that for a long time.." He took a ring out of his pocket "will you marry me,y/n?...not as a knight but just as senor will y/n marry senor?"

for a minute you thought about it all and if it was a good choice but you couldn't contain yourself and it slipped "yes,yes i will"

senor put the ring on your finger immediately before he hold you and swing you around,he put you on the ground and hug you tightly.

"you don't know how happy i am now!" he almost shouted

you didn't say anything, just buried your face in his neck smiling like an idiot.

after some minute you lift your head up,"don't take me wrong but can we keep this a secret untill we're officially married? just because you know...the people and their gossip and i just became a queen so it's not really a smart move to reveal this all of a sudden"

"of course,anything will make you comfortable,m'lady."

you smile widely and kiss him on his cheek

Oh,you poor girl,you've fallen into his web and soon enough the throne will be his.

i hope you like it:)

have a good day/night♡

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you

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transparentbeardmentality · 1 year

Text

People on twitter finally figuring out what @dekacchannn has been saying forever:

Bakugo is connected to OFA.

Yah! He can see All Might's vestige! He has OFA stars in his eyes!!!

....

Now for my interpretation and speculation that I don't see anyone talking about...

Bakugo freaking KNEW he was tapping bits of OFA WAY before the battle. That's why he's not at all surprised to see the AM vestige, and just says "Oh. Right.."

It perfectly explains why at UA again, he is looking so uncomfortable, sweating bullets, explaining his new (saving Izuku unlocked) move to Izuku/Deku. He's not just sweating because that's his thing. He never just sweats in battle like that!

Sweating bullets gets used a lot to convey intense/awkward discomfort. I think he was panicked about breaching the topic of OFA power up! But Izuku totally blanked him... Bakugo didn't really wanna have this confusing conversation to start with (but I believe he was trying to broach it anyway). So when Izuku doesn't respond openly, he drops it immediately.

Like Deku, he withheld important information about how he unlocked it -and what it means- because their relationship feels like a fragile, intense mess. It's way too important for him to jeapordise.

Bakugo was very insecure and afraid here!

And I don't think Bakugo knows what to make of the OFA thing, or do about it. Izuku clearly has no idea, or he'd say something, right? He had an opening, and nothing?

He knows his feelings for Izuku are intense.. Everybody does. But the well goes deeper, or he wouldn't be afraid to talk about something so important, involving feelings he's already revealed.

I totally agree with theories that it's a love connection, not a reminant of a non-manga movie -even if some crossover characters appear. There's no way Horikoshi doesn't want his beloved manga to stand on its own.

And his beloved manga talks about people being in love, what's in their hearts, feeling like dying without their person, overwhelming emotions bending rules, and Deku's control your heart (over Bakugo) plotline.

I also wonder if the reason Bakugo reacted so strongly to Deku holding his hand out to Aoyama is because it was symbolic of Deku lending his strength (and compassion) to him. Bakugo may have worked out that his OFA connection works, because in some way, honorable Deku has had his hand extended to him -for as long as he can remember. Because that's what Deku does. Deku is a saint. And maybe OFA is an extension of that for him.

I think that OFA connection strengthened too, when Bakugo learned how DEEP that part of Deku went for him.

He cannot dismiss Deku's feelings as him being a bleeding heart over every person when Shigaraki is telling him that for Deku, he is 'The' person -and is bent on killing him because of it! That's shocking (also terrifying) information.

Remember Bakugo said he didn't expect the apology to change anything between them, but Shig knowing about 💚Bakugo💚 means he was unmistakeably Deku's closest person, before he even apologised!

Bakugo feels so much for Izuku, but thought he had to start mending things to even be considered a real friend... Especially since Deku has so many friends and close people! He just saw them all pour out their deep affections to bring him home to UA. He does not think he is special.

But Izuku has a secret! (At least from Bakugo, no one else could possibly be confused at this point.)

So Shigaraki taunts Bakugo for falling behind Deku. He's just a minnow. But all he can focus on is something to the effect of -'Holy shit. He loves me. He loves me.. I need him to know that I-.. I need to live up to him! Izuku...'

The secret feelings reveal made him brave and honest with his own heart. There's nothing left but longing to be worthy of him, and be with him. He makes his last stand for him. And in the end, he reaches out for Izuku too -even though Izuku is not there with his own hand this time.

And this is when we first see the AFO stars are in his eyes. He does reach him. Or at least their connection. And that's why we see All Might, and why Bakugo is not surprised. But Bakugo seems resigned as though it's too late. He's already reminiscing.. But I believe All Might is going tell him it's not over. That he has to save Young Midoriya, and how.

What else could he possibly be there to say?

I can't wait for Izuku to find about Kacchan being OFA love-bonded to him.

#bkdk #bakudeku #thoughts #speculation #ofa

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twstwinnie · 1 year

Note

Oh gosh I just stumbled on your writings your writing is so nice!, and I loved in a relationship with jamil and floyd they were so good 😭,im sorry if your getting a buncha these now may I request in a relationship with azul if thats ok?

✎ With You ~ Azul Ashengrotto

summary: the highly requested in a relationship with Azul! usual three categories! crushing, confession, and dating!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: I adore azul— this just took me forever bc of writer’s block! but!! here he is! i’ll probably spin a wheel for who I do next, but if you’re curious, the current requested are: jack, epel, sebek, kalim, riddle, jade, and vil! so if you were looking out for them, they’re coming soon! also, i‘ve been considering making a tag list, so yeah! anyway, enjoy azul!! — winnie <3

✎ starry - eyed !

» Azul is the type to vehemently deny any feelings he may have towards you. When you first met, he assumed that his interest in you was nothing more than seeing you as a potential business prospect. He kept a close eye on you, but as time went on, his excuses became feeble in the face of what he felt.

» He’d keep insisting that your meetups are “business research,” even going as far as taking notes after every meeting in hopes to convince himself that that’s all it was. However, as time goes on, he finds that he doesn’t even think about finances or his business when he’s with you. He becomes entirely invested in conversations with you and the happenings of your life.

» Upon realizing that he isn’t doing the “research” he foolishly told himself he was doing, his avoidant tactics only increase in strength. He didn’t like you— he couldn’t.

» He wants to convince himself that it’s bad business to get emotionally involved— that there’s no room for romance in his world, but deep down, he knows it’s all an excuse. Truth be told, Azul is terrified at the prospect of liking you.

» With his history of bullying, Azul doesn’t have much of a positive self-image. The people close to him know that his confidence is fragile, and the bravado he hides behind is built on a foundation of power. However, when it comes to the romance world, Azul is playing on an even field with everyone else that may like you.

» In such a world, Azul fears that he has nothing to offer you.

» You’re kind and generous in a way no one else is. Azul’s underhanded tactics aren’t a suitable offering for you. And if power and money doesn’t appeal to you— what then? What can Azul possibly offer to you? What did he have that made him the most suitable option out of the countless people vying for your hand?

» Nothing. That’s what. That’s why Azul cannot like you. Because if he did, it’d be futile.

» There is no contract. He’d be giving his whole heart to you with no guarantee that you’d give anything in return. He’d leave himself vulnerable to being positively crushed by rejection. He could handle losing in business— such losses came with the field, but in love? Tell him— what proven strategies can be put in place to prevent pain or heartbreak? What insurance is there when your heart is tattered with the pain of rejection?

» There is none, and Azul knows this for certain. However, as time goes on, he finds himself unable to deny his feelings any longer as he spends more time with you.

» You happily listen to his business ramblings, propose event ideas for the Lounge, and you’ve even mastered the art of reigning in the Leech Twins. You fit in so perfectly into his life, but that only terrifies him more. He finds himself scared of losing you, but unable to commit himself to the idea of being infatuated by you.

» In response to this standstill, he draws away from you. This way, he becomes used to your absence instead of your presence. Then, should you learn of his feelings, the rejection won’t feel as harsh.

» What he doesn’t anticipate, however, is that you take notice. You recognize this behavior almost immediately. Not only that, you call him out on it.

» “Azul, why are you avoiding me?” you ask as you walk into the VIP room. Azul pauses, surprised at your sudden presence.

» “I— well… What gave you such an idea?” he questions, attempting to play oblivious. You roll your eyes.

» “Ashengrotto. I know you better than most. I can see through that farce of yours. I’m not mad or anything, I’m just worried,” you say as you sit in front of him. “Is it the lounge? Studying? Do you need my help with something?”

» The gentleness in your tone warms his heart. His face flushes red involuntarily. “What would you want in return?” he questions. You laugh.

» “This again? Nothing, Azul. I just want to help you because I like seeing you happy. So? Did something happen?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. Azul looks away, biting back a fond smile.

» He supposes that, if you’re offering, he might as well get clarification on his situation. Of course, he does so without telling you it’s about you.

» After he explains everything, you hum a bit.

» “Well, why are you so hung up on what you bring to the table?” you inquire. Azul halts.

» “Pardon?” Azul tilts his head.

» “Well, what I mean is that a relationship isn’t transactional, y’know? It’s not about if you can bring ‘power’ or ‘money’ to a relationship. In fact, I’d say that that’s useless,” you insist. Azul hums.

» “Then, what do you suppose is the most important quality?” he asks.

» You smile softly. “Aside from being a decent person? Whether or not the person you like likes you back. I know you don’t like things being out of your control, but that’s the truth. I mean— you like this person because you simply enjoy their company, right? Not because they bring anything to you,” you explain. Azul nods.

» “That… is correct,” he mumbles.

» “Exactly. So, who’s to say it’s any different for them? If they like your company, that’s more than enough. They won’t need power, fame, money, or any of that. In a relationship, you and your effort are enough, Azul.”

» Azul’s eyes go wide as you explain that to him. While yes, it’s a simple concept, it’s something an over thinker like him easily forgets. He can’t help but smile softly and thank you for your advice.

» It’s then and there that he decides he must confess to you. Not only did he already like you, but the way you approached his problem with a level head and a kind demeanor only solidified to him that you completed him. When he approached a situation with logic, you reminded him that sometimes, it was better to be emotional. And when he got too emotional, you grounded him with logic. Above all else, though, you support him through so much.

» And Azul is nothing if not competitive. He refused to lose to someone else. He had to show initiative and confess to you first. If he does, you’d know how serious he is about you.

» With that, he quickly starts drafting up a few ideas.

✎ say the words !

» In the journey to come up with the perfect confession to win your affections, Azul faces many obstacles. The biggest one being his competition.

» Azul tasked Jade and Floyd to keep tabs on people who also sought your companionship. This resulted in the knowledge that, apparently, you were getting confessed to on a near weekly basis. Jade mentioned a few names, but they were all faceless students that he didn’t quite remember.

» While Floyd, with a strangely giddy expression, would always report that you rejected the potential suitor, Azul still became nervous. Would the next confession be a rejection, or would you accept? How would his confession stand out amid so many others? Were you even interested in romance, or did you already have someone else in mind?

» Eventually, Azul decides that collaboration is the best way to go about it. Attempting to find an idea himself is like talking into an echo chamber— it results in no progress. Initially, he turns to the twins for assistance, but they both give him eerie smiles. Instead of helping, they insist that it’s “fun to watch him figure things out,” thus denying any assistance.

» Azul knows he won’t be able to convince them otherwise, so he seeks help elsewhere. He considers a few options: Jamil, Riddle, and Ruggie, but ultimately decides that those are people he’d rather not be open and vulnerable with. Eventually, he settles on discussing the matter with Idia during their club hours. While he was certain the other lacked romantic knowledge, he at least knew that he’d receive brutal honesty in regards to the situation.

» “Idia. I have an inquiry regarding a personal matter,” Azul starts. Idia narrows his eyes at him.

» “Uh… I have no interest in your shady dealings,” he mumbles. Azul huffs.

» “It has nothing to do with my perfectly sound business practices!” Azul shakes his head. “Actually, it has to do with romance.”

» “Huh?! Romance?! Whaaat… so even a shady antagonist can have a heart,” Idia mumbles before continuing. “Uhhh my knowledge doesn’t extend beyond video games. Why bother asking me?”

» “Because I know you’ll be impartial. Anyway, I have a… friend that I’m rather fond of,” Azul starts, but Idia quickly cuts him off.

» “Not to ruin your moment, but I know who you’re talking about. You’ve got low-tier stealth stats. It’s obvious you like them,” Idia mentions with a sigh. “I mean, they’re oblivious to it, but still. I’m guessing you want some s-rank confession to woo them?”

» Azul pauses, shutting his mouth and huffing. “Yes, I want to… ‘woo’ them. I have no idea how, though. I’ve drafted countless ideas, but all of them seem plain. During lunch hardly seems romantic, and the beach seems cliche. I’m at a loss,” Azul admits. Idia stares at him for a few moments.

» “Please tell me this is some weird joke. Are you being real right now?” Idia deadpans.

» “What? I’m hardly joking! I’m truly at a loss. Why else would I request assistance?” Azul mutters. Idia groans.

» “This is like grinding hours for a total OP secret weapon, then not even using it in the final battle,” Idia mumbles. “You have your glitzy lounge, right? Close it for a day and confess there. Seriously, I’m a newbie in romance and I could even think of that.”

» Azul goes silent as he thinks about it. He’d always viewed the Monstro Lounge as nothing more than a business prospect. Though, the atmosphere was certainly ideal. He made sure of it himself. You did quite enjoy studying there, too.

» Azul let out a long sigh. It was so obvious that he almost wanted to slap himself for not seeing it sooner.

» “That is a great idea, Idia. Thank you. I’ll close it down early Friday night, then. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have many preparations to make. And a lifetime of embarrassment to work through for not realizing such a simple solution,” Azul insists, quickly leaving the club room.

» With that, his plan is in motion. Jade and Floyd, while not willing to help him previously, are now willing to help put his plan into motion. They ensure that the Lounge is fully closed that night and pass on the invitation to you. Floyd cooks a specialized menu Azul put together, and Jade helps decorate for the occasion.

» After everything is ready, Azul awaits your arrival nervously. Floyd and Jade keep him company, though mostly tease him for being so clearly anxious.

» “Azul. At this rate, I’m afraid you’ll break the seat with how tightly you’re gripping it,” Jade mentions. Azul straightens, pulling his hands away from the chair he’d been leaning on.

» “Eh? To be fair his nervousness could be faaaaar worse. Imagine if we told him what we saw earlier~” Floyd teases. Azul tenses.

» “Oya, Floyd. We said we wouldn’t mention that to him. Now look at him. He’s even more fearful than before.” Jade smiles simply. Floyd laughs a bit.

» “Ah, well. Too late~ You know, they got confessed to earlier. It was another random bottom feeder, but~ figured it’d be better that you knew,” Floyd sings, smirking. Jade chuckles.

» “It shouldn’t be an issue. I’m certain,” Jade says. Before Azul can pry for details, footsteps echo through the lounge. “Oh? Seems our guest of honor is here. Good luck, Azul.”

» With that, Jade leaves, Floyd following him out. Azul lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you, putting on his usual expression as you walk over, eyes wide as you take in the decor. Dainty lights were strung overhead and gentle flowers decorated the tables.

» “Wow, this is pretty. I knew you were closing early today, but I had no idea it was for this. What’s the occasion?” you ask with a bright grin. Azul smiles, pulling out your chair for you.

» “There’s no occasion. It’s simply a gift to you,” Azul states, seating himself after you. You give him a teasing smirk.

» “What’s this? Azul Ashengrotto giving me a gift with no strings attached? Color me surprised~” you hum. Azul blushes and rolls his eyes playfully.

» “You're speaking as if this is a one-time occasion. I’ve gifted you plenty in the past, you know. Or have you forgotten my generosity already?” Azul asks, faking a pout. You laugh gently.

» “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I could never forget the generosity and kindness that rivals that of the Sea Witch. I dunno… I guess it almost makes me feel special!” you mention. Azul pauses for a moment before looking at you.

» “It’s because you are special,” he blurts out suddenly. Your eyes widen and you go speechless. For a moment, the silence weighs heavy between you both before he clears his throat.

» “Forgive me… I know you’ve already leant your ear to another for a confession today, but could you listen to one more?” Azul asks softly, vulnerability lacing his tone. You wordlessly nod, keeping your eyes on him. Azul shifts a bit under your gaze but persists.

» “I’ve felt this strong affinity for you for quite some time now. At first, I thought it was just a mutually beneficial friendship, but then… I realized it was more than that. I tried to distance myself out of fear, but you managed to stop me before I could get far. You’ve always been good at recognizing when something’s troubling me.” Azul gives you a fond smile before continuing.

» “You reminded me that relationships don’t need to be transactional. That I’m enough. I greatly enjoy your company. I know you don’t want my money or my power, but it feels wrong to confess empty-handed. So, instead, in this verbal contract, I’d like to offer you two things.

» “First, a promise. I promise to do all in my power to make you happy, and to be a suitable partner. But more importantly, I’d like to offer you my heart. I cherish you more than any other. All I ask for in return… is an answer. Will you accept my confession, and the terms of my verbal contract?” Azul looks at you with bated breath. The air is tense and you don’t say a word, but soon, a few tears slip down your cheeks. Azul’s eyes widen and he rushes to your side.

» Before he can inquire about your well-being, you wrap your arms tightly around him, nuzzling your face in his neck.

» “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for that? Great Seven, I’ve rejected so many people just hoping that you might eventually say something. Yes. Of course I’ll accept. I’d love to be with you, Azul,” you express happily. Azul lets out a relieved sigh, embracing you and reveling in the feeling.

» “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. You have my sincerest apologies,” Azul mumbles. You shake your head, pulling back to smile at him.

» “You’ll always be worth the wait, Azul.”

✎ at last , with you !

» Unsurprisingly, given that they were eavesdropping the entire time, the Leech twins are the first to learn about you and Azul’s relationship. Now that you two are together, they reveal that they’ve known the feeling was mutual the entire time.

» Azul gapes at them, angrily asking why they hadn’t said anything sooner. Naturally, they respond that it’s far more interesting to let these things play out without interference. As irritated as he is at the notion, Azul feels grateful. He feels much more sound in his decision since he had time to truly think it over.

» However, that brings up more curious questions to him. How long have you liked him? Who else knew of your feelings? Was he the only one kept in the dark?

» With a laugh, you express that you’ve liked him for quite some time now. This shocks Azul beyond words, but it also makes him feel elated and secure in his relationship with you. He can’t help but feel just a tad cocky. All of these people were confessing to you, yet you still chose him? It’s quite the phenomenon!

» Of course, as usual, you insist that he’s the phenomenal one. You waited for him because you loved him, and that’s a fact he should never doubt. Azul knows it’ll be a struggle to get past his insecurities fully, but when he’s with you, it feels like that goal is far more manageable.

» As your relationship develops, you two eventually find a nice balance. Azul is still running a business in tandem with his studies, so he gets incredibly busy, but you have your own obligations, too. You’d think that you’d have no time to spend together, but Azul goes out of his way to make time for you.

» Whether you’re silently reading in his office while he works, or he’s going over paperwork in your room while you’re studying, you two always find ways to spend time together. Even if it’s just being together in silence while you’re both working, Azul feels at home. Being in your presence is enough to soothe him.

» However, every so often, your schedules align and you’re able to go on a proper date together. Azul plans these as far in advance as he possibly can. The moment he notices that your free time lines up, he’s planning a proper date with you.

» Azul is (secretly) a hopeless romantic, so he adores having romantic dates with you. When caught up in a cold world filled with emotionless business decisions, it feels nice for him to be able to step away into the warmth of your company. So, his dates reflect that accordingly. Whether it be a private dinner or a stroll beneath the stars, he makes sure every date is one to remember.

» You allow Azul to be himself when he’s with you. He isn’t trying to run a business, make deals, or keep his grades up. There is no facade for him to upkeep when with you. He’s the same, sensitive octomer that he's always been ever since he was young.

» At first, Azul is still weary of being vulnerable around you. After all, you’re his beloved partner! He can’t stand to show a shameless side of himself to you. He wants you to think highly of him. He wants to show you his best. He can’t imagine what you might think of him if he were to show you that younger, weaker side of himself, let alone his merform!

» This all changes after his overblot, though. You easily notice the build-up of stress and the increase in contracts, given that you’re always by Azul’s side. In the beginning, you turn a blind eye to it all, but once your friends get involved, it’s hard for you to play clueless much longer.

» You assist in the plan to take him down, fully expecting Azul to hate you for it. Azul expects much of the same. He took things too far, and he hurt you. When you tried to get him to stop on your own, he didn’t listen. Instead, he pushed himself beyond what he was capable of and showcased the ugliest parts of himself to you.

» When he wakes up, you expect him to be angry. Instead, you’re met with a look of sorrowful shame. Azul can’t meet your gaze, face flushed red and eyes glossy with tears.

» “I-I’m sorry… I’ve shown you something so unsightly and I nearly hurt you,” he mumbles. He mentally braces himself for the breakup— for you to turn away and leave him behind. The worst part about it? He’s powerless to stop you. He’s lost all of his contracts, but he doesn’t care about that anymore if it means losing you, too.

» However, he’s surprised to find that you don’t leave. You let out a relieved sigh, smiling at him warmly.

» “Azul. I’m hurt that you went that far, but I’m more hurt that you didn’t tell me you were struggling so much. I love you. All parts of you. You didn’t show me anything strange. In fact, I’m glad I saw everything,” you explain gently, leaning your head against his.

» Azul regards you with a fragile expression, eyes wide. “You… aren’t leaving? Why? Why stay?” Azul questions. You hum gently, running your fingers through his hair.

» “Because one mistake doesn’t define who you are as a person. You’re still my Azul, even with your past, present, and future mistakes. I love you as is, good and bad. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you mumble. Finally, in such an intimate moment, Azul fully lets his guard down and allows tears to slip.

» “I thought I lost you, too. I don’t care for those petty contracts if it means you’ll no longer love me,” Azul’s voice cracks as he speaks. You gently wipe his tears away, smiling as you pepper his face with gentle kisses.

» “You could never lose me, Azul. My heart is yours. Nothing will change that. Now, come on. You still need to heal, so rest. I’ll be here when you awaken again.”

» Throughout his recovery, you remain dutifully by Azul’s side. He feels incredibly grateful to you for it. You saw the things he tried so hard to erase and accepted him in his entirety. His true form, his pain, his past— none of it phased you. If anything, it gave you a better understanding of him.

» Azul gradually returns to his usual, slightly arrogant self, but you can see the change clear as day. He still uses his usual dealings and business practices, but he no longer uses it as a means of coping with his perceived weakness. Instead, when he does feel that lingering doubt, he turns to you for support.

» And when he’s resting in your arms after a hard day of managing the lounge, he knows that he has no need to hoard power for the sake of protecting himself.

» After all, his heart is in the most capable hands possible.

» He’s yours. And that’s all he’ll ever need.

— fin.

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