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brandyllyn · 3 years

Text

Corroboration

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x f!Reader [no use of y/n]

Summary: Celebrating a new job and trying to keep your relationship a secret from Frankie. Maybe you two should have just stayed in - you always had more fun there.

Theoretically Part 2 of Validation but can be read as a standalone.

My Masterlist

Word count: 5600 (Again. Jesus Christ.) Read it on AO3.

Rating: NC17 (Explicit)

Warnings: language. alcohol. bondage. smut. PiV sex. Oral (m receiving). toys / masturbation.

Awesome gif credit to @nickblaine [please let me know if you’d rather I not use! I’m still learning gif etiquette.]

Santiago was not going to make it through tonight.

It was supposed to be a night to let loose. You had just gotten a job offer and your sister wanted to celebrate. Of course that meant that her husband was there which is how Santi found himself on the other end of Frankie’s assessing gaze on the outdoor patio of a local taqueria. Santi did not know how to properly convey 'I absolutely have not been fucking your sister-in-law' with his face, but he was pretty sure he was doing a piss poor job of it.

It also didn’t help that you kept rubbing your toes along his ankle.

You weren’t supposed to be teasing him. He’d been clear about that the night before. Clear about the promise (now broken) that he had made to Frankie to keep his hands off you. You had rolled your eyes at his confession, pointing out various things such as that you were a 'big girl who could take care of herself' and that Frankie 'wasn’t your dad and even if he was it was none of his business.'

The statements had eased Santi’s guilt a little bit. Your hands wandering into his pants had blown any remaining concerns out of his mind completely. But that was when he was at home, with you curled around him and the taste of you fresh in his mouth. Here, in public, with his friend’s eyes boring holes into his brain, it was different.

"A pitcher for the table?" Andrea, Frankie’s wife, asked. Santi nodded at her. "And tacos?"

"Steak and chicken?" You asked and Santi nodded at you too. Anything to avoid Frankie’s eyes.

"We’ll go put the order in," Andrea said, leaning over and kissing Frankie on the cheek, not seeming to notice her husband’s preoccupation. She grabbed your hand and you gave Santi a wink before following.

Santi watched you walk away, appreciating the sway of your ass in your jeans. He shifted in his seat when he remembered what you were wearing under them. How you had sashayed out into his living room - wearing nothing but stockings, heels, and a garter belt - and walked over to his refrigerator while he was trying to remember what order breathing went in.

"Come here," he ordered and frowned when you laughed, passing out of his reach as you went back towards your room with a sparkling water.

"We don’t have time."

"I won’t take long," Santi promised, already pushing away from the table.

But you laughed again, backing down the hall and away from him. "I just wanted you to see what I was going to be wearing tonight. So you can think about it and what we might want to do later."

"I want to do it now," he growled, sprinting down the hall and then pulling up short when you closed the door in his face. When you came out twenty minutes later he had been expecting a dress. Maybe a skirt. What he was not expecting was you in a nice button down and jeans.

"I thought you were going to wear the stockings?" He asked with a disappointed sigh.

You smiled and took his hand, pressing him to your thigh. His fingers ran over the slight bump for a moment before he realized what he was feeling. He looked down in amazement but they were invisible, his only indication what his hand was telling him.

There was something about it that just set his mind reeling. There was no purpose to it, you were wearing it because you liked lingerie. And suddenly he thought back to every time he had ever seen you in jeans, wondering if you’d been wearing lace and silk next to your thighs then. As you left with Andrea he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on where the straps down your ass would be. Tracing the lines with his eyes and licking his lips unconsciously.

"Hey, pendejo, what did I say?" Frankie’s voice broke into his thoughts.

"What?" Santi tried to keep his tone level, ripping his eyes from you and turning to Frankie with what he hoped was a befuddled look.

Frankie wasn’t buying it. "I said don’t fuck my sister. That includes eye-fucking."

"Oh come on," Santi groaned, rolling his eyes. "I was just watching them leave."

"You were doing more than that," Frankie pointed at him. "She’s new in town and I don’t want her nursing a broken heart first thing."

"What makes you think I’ll break her heart? If we fucked it doesn’t have to be anything complicated." Santi made a point to emphasize the 'if'.

"Ahh," Frankie choked out, "you will not have my sister in-law as your fuck buddy man."

"She’s a grown woman," Santi finally snapped. "If she wants to fuck around with someone I think that’s her decision isn’t it?"

There was a long pause.

"Cabrón… you already did it."

Santi held his hands up, "Now Frankie it’s not what you think…"

"I think you did exactly what I asked you not to and fucked her."

Santi paused, glancing to the side for a second. "Okay, it’s exactly what you think but the circumstances aren’t-" He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Frankie had shoved the table to the side and was coming at him. "Calm down it’s not-"

"I asked one thing of you, tu hijo de puta, and you couldn’t fucking keep it in your pants," Frankie growled and lashed out, catching Santi in the gut before he could duck away from the hit. Santi felt the breath leave him but he spun on the balls of his feet and caught Frankie in a bear hug.

"Hermano listen I-"

"Don’t fucking call me hermano, tarado," Frankie bit out, his elbow catching Santi and he was forced to let go.

"It’s not that big of a deal," Santi tried again. It was difficult to hold up his end of the fight when the thing he wanted most was to not be fighting.

"She’s too good for you," Frankie told him.

Santi’s hands dropped to his sides. "Well that’s a shitty thing to say."

Frankie raised an eyebrow, "You forget I was there when you were fucking your way through Syria with Blackwater."

"Oh fucking-a, man," Santi groaned. "I was twenty-eight and fresh out. You can’t hold that against me."

"I absolutely hold it against you," Frankie threw another punch, glancing off of Santi’s chin. Santi felt his head jerk to the side and he took a stumbling step back, catching himself on a nearby heating unit.

"What the fuck Frankie?"

Oh thank you sweet Mary, Santi thought, turning to see you and Andrea standing a few feet away holding a pitcher of beer and a set of glasses. He met your eyes and tried to let you know through telepathy that your little secret was out. He watched you rush over, setting the pitcher down and reaching up to tilt his face to the light.

"What the hell happened out here?" You asked, looking over at Frankie while you stroked your thumb along his cheek. Santi clocked Frankie’s expression and caught your hand in his, pulling it down. But Frankie saw it, and his eyes narrowed on Santi. The other man opened his mouth but his wife cut him off.

"Francisco Luis Morales," the glasses clanked as Andrea set them down, "do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?"

Frankie’s head whipped around to her, "What? No. Baby I-"

"Then what the fuck are you doing getting into a fight out here? And you," Andrea turned on Santi and he found himself standing up straighter. She pointed and Santi flinched, "Were you just going to let my husband beat the shit out of you?"

"Like he could," Santi snorted but when he caught Andrea’s expression he quickly schooled his features into seriousness. "No ma’am. I mean… yes ma’am?"

She glared at him before turning back to Frankie. "I’m waiting Francisco."

"Pope slept with your sister," Frankie blurted out, fingers spread wide as he held his hands out to her.

"I know," Andrea replied, arms crossed and ignoring his reach. "And?"

Frankie gaped at her, looking like a fish caught out of water and Santi had to hide a snicker. Your elbow jabbing into his side made him turn and glare at you but you didn’t look at him, just continued to stare at the couple in front of you.

"What do you mean 'and'?" Frankie spluttered.

"And… what’s your point?"

"Pope slept with your sister," he said it louder this time and Santi heard you groan and saw you cover your face with one hand.

"Tell me when this is over," you whispered to him.

"Wanna just sneak out?"

You jerked your head to his, "Can we do that?"

"No." Frankie and Andrea said the word at the same time, in wildly different tones. Both yours and Santi’s eyes snapped back to them.

"We are celebrating," Andrea said, poking her finger into Frankie’s chest. Turning, she put her hands on her hips, "Everyone sit down."

It was the same tone someone might use on a poorly behaved dog and Santi had to resist the urge to just sit directly on the ground. Instead he moved back to the table, nabbing the pitcher on the way. He noticed that you didn’t seem as phased by your little sister’s tone, giving her an eye roll before sliding onto the stool next to his.

"Here," Andrea passed out the glasses, taking the seat on the other side of Santi. "When Frankie gets his act together he can join us." She shouted the last part. Frankie was still standing a few feet away, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides and his brow furrowed beneath the bill of his ball cap.

"What gave it away?" You whispered in a low voice.

"You playing footsie with me under the table," he whispered back.

You scoffed. "Did not."

"Mmhmm," he hummed with a sarcastic raise of his eyebrows. "Said you couldn’t keep your eyes off me either."

"Oh please," Andrea laughed, filling his glass with the pale lager. "You two were obvious from the moment you walked in. Even if she hadn’t told me I’d have known."

"You told her?" Santi asked accusingly and saw you shrug.

"Of course I did. She’s my sister."

"Am I the only one who didn’t know?" Frankie grumbled, settling into the seat next to his wife and grabbing the pitcher, pouring himself a full glass and then downing half in one swallow.

"Yes," you and your sister reply in the same beat and Santi snorted, not bothering to hide his grin when Frankie glared at him.

"So this is-"

"None of your business," your voice cut Frankie off and from the jerk of his body his wife kicked him under the table at the same time. Santi raised his eyebrow at his friend and couldn’t resist a smug smile.

The evening passed uneventfully after that. He limited himself to one beer, knowing he would need to drive you back home, and laughed along as you and your sister tried to one-up each other with stories of your childhood. He kept an eye on Frankie, thankful when he saw his friend begin to relax, joining in on the playful ribbing and offering a few stories of his own.

At the end of the night he tucked you into his truck, buckling you in and smiling to himself when you stole a few kisses while he leaned over you.

"There you go," he said, patting your thigh, "safe and sound."

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, not reacting when he closed the door. He shook his head with a soft laugh and turned to walk around the truck and grunted when he ran directly into Frankie.

"Oh fuck, not again man."

Frankie glared, raking a hand along the back of his neck. "Just don’t hurt her okay?"

Santi closed his eyes for a minute, shaking his head. "I would never do anything to intentionally hurt someone. Not like that."

"I know," Frankie mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I’m not worried about what you’ll do intentionally."

Santi nodded. "I get you. I do. But whatever is going on, it has nothing to do with you." Frankie sighed and Santi held his hand out. "I’ll see you soon?"

Frankie took his hand and pulled him into a hug. "See you soon, hermano."

Santi let out a sigh of relief and returned the hug, following Frankie around the truck and giving Andrea a wave goodbye before climbing in and starting it. Your hand reached across and slid into his immediately and he gave it a squeeze, smiling at the soft look on your face.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked as he backed out of the spot.

"How Frankie was kicking your ass."

Santi scoffed, carefully checking the road before pulling out into it, turning his hand in yours and reaching across so they rested on your thigh. "Not in a million years. I wasn’t engaging."

"Sure you weren’t," you giggled. "I saw what I saw."

Santi rolled his eyes. "Believe what you want."

"Pobrecito," you cooed, turning in the seat. "I still think you’re tough. All… manly."

"You better," he let go of your hand to squeeze your thigh hard, hearing you squeak. "I’m all man for you."

You laughed, giggling to yourself as he pulled into his driveway. He pulled you over to him when he threw the truck into park, pulling you across the console and pressing his lips to yours while your laughter bubbled around him.

"You’re giggly when you’re drunk," Santi said with a smile, squeezing your thigh with one hand before letting himself out of the truck. He could see your lopsided grin and how you struggled with the seatbelt as he walked around the hood.

When he opened the door you tumbled out and into his arms, your hands fisting into his shirt. "M’not drunk," you protested, nuzzling your cheek into his neck.

"Mmhmm," he responded evenly, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you inside the house. "Sober as a nun. That’s you."

"I wouldn’t say that," you mumbled, cursing softly when your shoulder hit the wall. He muttered a quick apology and maneuvered you into the house with more care. He leaned you against the kitchen island, holding you steady with one hand for a second.

"I’m going to get you some water," he told you and waited for you to gain some semblance of balance before getting down the glass and filling it. When he turned back he found you were staring at him, chin propped on your hands, eye blinking slowly.

"You’re beautiful," you sighed, eyebrows drawn together.

Santi grinned and handed you the glass, leaning over the other side of the island. "Takes one to know one."

"No," you shook your head, taking a gulp of water and then setting the glass to the side. Earnestly, you took his hands in yours. "You’re like…. Really fucking beautiful. Gorgeous."

Santi felt heat rise on his cheeks and hoped he wasn’t blushing. It wasn’t every day the sexiest woman alive told you that you were beautiful. Even if she was hovering somewhere around tipsy.

"Your eyes. Your hands. Your mouth…." You sighed dreamily. "You’re so fucking hot."

Oh, well, this was nice. He knew he was reasonably attractive, he had a mirror and fairly good luck at bars. But it was still very nice to hear it said out loud. He opened his mouth to ask you more, see how long he could drag out this lovely moment of you stroking his ego, but your next words cut him off.

"Fuck, the things I’d let you do to me…"

Santi short-circuited. That was the only real way of explaining it. His heart stopped and every drop of blood he had rushed to his cock. He could feel his breath ghosting over his parted lips, his hands clenching on the counter. As he watched, you reached out and ran your thumb along his lower lip and then you fucking moaned, your eyes fluttering shut and he had the sudden flash of understanding that you were imagining it. Imagining this hypothetical list of things.

"Like what?" His voice was lower, raspier than he intended and your own lips parted when you opened your eyes.

"What?"

You looked lost, confused. Gently, he reached up and took your wrist in his hand. His fingers were long enough to easily encircle the fragile bones while he held you still and placed a kiss on your palm. "What would you let me do?"

He could tell the question was too much the moment it left him. You bit your lower lip, brows drawing together as you swallowed. He quickly reframed it. "What do you want me to do?"

Oh that was it, you melted, leaning across the counter towards him and he met you partway, brushing his lips along yours but pulling back when you tried to deepen the kiss. With the hand not holding your wrist he reached out, cupping your jaw and running his thumb along the arch of your cheek.

It was your turn to hold his wrist in your hand, to turn your face into him and press a kiss to the center. But you also flicked your tongue out, lips moving along him and drawing his thumb inside your mouth and Jesus fucking Christ sucking on it.

"Everything."

The word was muffled, mumbled around his thumb. The syllables stuck in his mind for a moment, skittering across the edges of his reasoning before settling into the space his question had left. He groaned, pressing down on your tongue. "Querida, I don’t think that’s an offer you want to make me."

You watched him, teeth scraping along the fleshy pad of his thumb as you pulled away and raised an eyebrow. Slowly, you pulled your hand from his and unbuttoned the first button of your shirt.

"I know what everything means Santi." Another button. "And when I say I want to do everything with you," another button and he could see the edge of your bra, lace cupping your perfect tits, "I mean it."

Santi was around the counter in a flash, hands pulling your hips flush to his, mouth slanting across yours. You barely had time to press your hands to his shoulders before he consumed you. Tongue stroking into you, walking you backwards until your shoulders hit the far wall.

You met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders with a low moan. He gripped the edges of your shirt and pulled, listening to the buttons skitter across the floor before shoving the cloth down your arms and twisting the fabric in his hands, trapping your arms behind you.

There was no hesitation, no questions, you just leaned your head back and offered your neck to him and he raked his teeth along the soft flesh. "Everything?" He mumbled into you.

"Everything," you gasped in return.

He grinned at that, nipping at your collarbone, pulling down on your arms so you arched further into him. His knee shoved between your legs, pressing up between your thighs and he felt the jolt that went through you. How you shifted your stance so he pressed exactly where you wanted him to.

In his mind’s eye he could see it, see how wet you were getting for him. The way your thighs would tremble. The… fuck he’d forgotten the stockings.

He moved abruptly from you, spinning you around and forcing you ahead of him down the hallway and to his bed, not stopping until your thighs hit it and he could push you down face first. He let go of your shirt to work on your pants - noting that you didn’t even try to extricate yourself from his makeshift bindings.

Your pants and underwear came off together and he stepped back to admire the sight of you. The straps of the garter belt ran over the curve of your ass, taut lines to the black stockings you were wearing. Tilting his head he smiled and then bent to the floor, carefully setting your feet back in the low heels you had been wearing.

Oh that was nice. The heels made your ass tilt up, and he only needed to kick your feet apart to have your pussy bared to him. With quick movements he undid his belt, pushing his pants down far enough that he could release his cock. His fingers pressed into your dripping cunt and he clenched his jaw when he heard you moan his name. With his free hand he jerked your arms free of your shirt, he didn’t need it to hold you captive, quickly gathering your wrists in his hand and pressing them to the small of your back.

Head tilted back, eye closed, he pressed the head of his cock inside of you. Thankful for earlier communications that meant that he knew he could be skin to skin with you and not need to worry. Thankful because it meant he could lose himself in how fucking wet you were for him. How your cunt wrapped around him like a glove as he sank inside you with a loud groan of your name.

You had said you wanted everything and he gave it to you, holding your hip in one hand and your wrists in the other as he lost himself inside of you. This one was for him and him alone - he had plans for the evening and knew that you would not be left wanting - but right now, right now he needed to fuck you and he needed to come and he wanted you full of him when he-

He hunched over you when his orgasm washed over him, mouth trailing across your spine, holding your wrists in what must have been a painful grip but you didn’t struggle. Just arched your back so he sank deeper inside of you and whispered his name like a prayer. He stayed like that for a minute, letting your muscles work on him, feeling how you squirmed slightly beneath him as your body absently chased its own release. Finally he lifted himself, pressing his hips harder to you even as he felt himself softening.

"Do not move," he warned and slipped free, pressing your wrists down. He waited, watching to see if you would disobey but you didn’t. He staggered slightly when he crossed the room, his legs feeling weak from the strength of his orgasm. But he caught himself with one hand while opening the nightstand with the other, finding what he was looking for quickly. Turning, he tossed the pile of laundry from the chair in the corner and sank into it, spreading his knees wide and looking his fill of you. You remained bent over his bed with your legs spread wide in those stockings and heels with his cum slowly dripping out of you and your wrists crossed behind your back.

Fuck he was the luckiest man in the world.

"Come here," he said in a low voice, watching you tense and then slowly push yourself up. Your hair was disheveled, it looked like you’d already been fucked once which… fair. He crooked a finger at you and pointed at the space in front of him, between his legs. You sank to your knees gracefully, leaning your head against his thigh and closing your eyes and it was such a tender gesture his heart stuttered for a moment. He reached out and softly pressed a wayward bit of hair back across your temple.

"I’m going to fuck you again," he murmured and his lips twitched when he saw the slow smile crawl across your lips. "But you’re going to have to get me ready."

You nodded, opening your eyes finally to look up at him from under long eyelashes. "Yes."

"Good girl," he praised, pressing his thumb to you and opening your mouth slightly. With his other hand he lifted his limp cock and rested it on your plush lips. You pulled him in immediately, tongue swirling around the head and he bit back a curse at the sensations on his still sensitized skin.

He reached for one of your hands, pressing the object he had pulled from the nightstand into it. He smiled when you glanced at it and raised an eyebrow at him. "I want you to come with my cock in your mouth."

You moaned and he grunted, shifting lower in the chair so you could work him easier. From the corner of his eye he watched your hand move to between your legs, heard the soft click and then the gentle hum of the vibrator. He knew the moment you touched yourself - you sucked so hard on him he saw stars.

"That’s it," he sank his hands into your hair, "that’s it. Oh fuck yes."

His body wasn’t ready for another round but it didn’t really matter. Your mouth caressing on him felt like heaven regardless, watching you move and squirm as you brought yourself closer and closer to an orgasm. You whimpered around his cock, easily taking all of his softened length into your mouth.

When you came the back of your throat flexed with your muffled cries and he felt his cock stir. He held your mouth on him while your body writhed and you drove yourself as high as you could. The sight of you, the sounds you made as he grew harder in your mouth and you struggled to continue to take him, fuck he should have asked if he could film you.

You had said everything.

He groaned and pulled you from him, lifting you up and leaning forward so he could kiss you. Your jaw was slack, your mouth lazy as you returned his attentions.

"Can you make it to the bed?" He asked and grinned when you slowly shook your head. "Come on," he stood, lifting you with him and wrapping an arm around your waist when you sagged against him. "I got you."

He laid you gently in the middle of his bed, slipping your heels off and placing a kiss to the soft stocking covering the arch of your foot. Once you were settled he stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head, quickly shucking all of his layers until he was naked. His semi-erect cock bobbing slightly and he wrapped his hand around it and stroked himself while he looked at you sprawled across his bed. You looked ready to sleep and he lightly slapped the inside of your thigh.

Your eyes flew open and you gave a wide smile when you saw him. "C’mere," you hummed, holding your arms out and he slipped into your embrace. He gathered you to him, fingers tangling into the straps of your garter belt as he covered your mouth with his. He heard you moan when he pressed his cock to your thigh, your hand reaching down but he caught it, quickly rolling you fully onto your back and pulling your arm over your head.

"Give me the other one," he murmured, lips trailing over your neck. He adjusted himself when you pulled your arm from between your bodies, raising it up next to the other. Wrists crossed and arms loose. "Can you keep them there or do I need to tie you up?"

He didn’t miss the jump of your heartbeat, the way your breathing stopped for a moment or the low moan you tried to bite back. "I can keep them there."

Grinning he pulled away, sitting back on his knees and shaking his head at you. "I don’t think I trust you."

You arched your back, closing your eyes and making a soft noise that made his blood boil. He was off the bed and back with his belt in the space from one heartbeat to the next, kneeling near your head and leaning forward to wrap it around your wrists. You could get out if you wanted, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to give you something to fight against. Something to strain and pull on while he…

Your lips closed around his cock again and his chin dropped, hands fisting into the sheets. Looking down he could see how you twisted to take him, the blissed out smile on your face while you sucked on the tip of him - all you could reach. Cradling your head he held you still for a moment while he slowly slid forward, pushing into the back of your throat and feeling you choke. He pulled back just as slowly, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that had gathered at the corner of your eye.

He shifted down the bed, using one hand to wrap around your throat and tilt your head away from him, dragging his teeth down your neck. His other hand palmed at your breast, pulling at your bra until the material was pushed down and there was nothing to stop him from moving down and drawing your nipple into his mouth. He bit softly, then harder, feeling how you writhed under him and finding the pressure that made you gasp. He pinched your other nipple at the same time, pulling sharply and listening to you yelp at the stinging pain.

Shifting his body further over yours, he pressed his knee between your thighs, felt your wetness smear across his skin. His mouth shifted to the other nipple, soothing the pinched flesh with his tongue before biting it as well.

"Santi!"

He chuckled, grinding his leg up into you. "We’re barely into everything, querida. Do you want me to stop?"

"Never," you sighed and his heart flipped over in his chest. He lifted himself so he could kiss you, running his hand down and snapping your garter against your thigh. When you yelped he grinned and slipped his hand beneath it, massaging your skin.

"I said I was going to fuck you," he growled in your ear, nipping softly at the lobe. "But it seems like maybe you don’t want me?"

"I want you," you said immediately, turning your head and pressing your lips to his. He returned the kiss, moving his hand so it rested between his thigh and your cunt. His fingers slipped into you with no resistance.

"Are you sure?" He teased, lightly playing with your clit. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Santi," he pulled back at the seriousness of your tone, eyes searching your face. Your arms lowered, bound hands coming to rest behind his neck and he could feel the edge of his belt on his skin. "Please."

"Beautiful lady," he whispered, nuzzling his nose to yours. "I’ll give you everything."

He shifted his body, sliding his cock inside of you slowly, his forehead pressed to yours. He swallowed as you stretched around him, biting his lip and moving his arms beneath you to hold you close. The lace at the top of your stockings scratched against his thighs when you wrapped your legs around him. He was as bound as you were, held tight by your legs on his waist and your wrists behind his head, sinking down into the warmth of your body.

A soft puff of air caressed his lips and then your mouth touched his in the lightest of kisses. Moaning to himself he rocked into your body, licking at the seam of your lips and tangling his tongue with yours.

He had said he was going to fuck you but you were proving him a liar. He was making love to you, his body worshiping at the altar of yours, laying down everything he had as an offering to you. He wanted to do more, touch caress and stroke your body - but he would have to move from your embrace to do so. Move from the warmth and softness of you and he just couldn’t make himself. Instead he changed the angle of his hips, dragging himself along your clit while he pressed into you in long strokes.

Your breath caught in a tiny gasp and he dropped a kiss to your throat. He whispered sweet nothings to you. Telling you how beautiful you looked, how well you were taking him, that he was in danger of falling desperately in love with you. He made his confessions in Spanish, the words falling onto your skin and settling there even as your muscles clenched and you held him tighter and cried out his name in a long broken sob while you shattered around him.

Your orgasm triggered his own and he groaned when he spilled inside of you, coming so hard he blacked out and sank his weight down onto you without thought. He barely felt you shift, changing the position of your arms so you could card your fingers into his hair. You pressed a light kiss to his temple.

"You would be a very easy man to fall madly in love with Santiago Garcia," you whispered into his ear and for the first time in a long time - the thought doesn’t frighten him.

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia / reader #santiago garcia / you #triple frontier

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

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Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yancore #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere concepts

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kiribaku-queen · 3 years

Text

The Blood King and his Queen [1]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Hello my loves! And welcome back to another, rather long, series! I had so many inspirations for this piece that I couldn’t wait to share with you all! Be warned, this might be a 20 part series, maybe more maybe less but we’ll see what happens! I hope you fall in love with this story as much as I do!

And shout out to this amazing artist for the art! I am literally BLOWN AWAY by this art! I can’t stop looking at it! It’s so amazingly well drawn. Just... yes, yes, yes! Please support this artist if you ever want art done! Pricey but just look at this art. So worth it! Check out the end of the chapter for the full image without text!

Also!!!! Check out my side blog if you’re curious about what fics I’m reading! You’ll find alot of j u i c y stuff and please support my friends by reading and commenting on their stories as well! Love <3

[next]

Nothing started your morning off better than the princess screaming her head off first thing in the morning. You, along with other servants, rushed to aid the princess in her time of distress. Although, it was never something to worry about with her. It was always something minor, like her hair was styled incorrectly or she didn’t like the color of clothes her servant picked out. Of course, this time, she was making a fuss that her perfume didn’t smell right.

“Your highness, I promise you, it’s the same one,” one of the servants who aided her in the morning pleaded for her life.

“No! You must have switched it out because it smells nothing like mine!” the princess screeched. The princess was so outraged that she started throwing everything and anything that was around her. Clothes, jewelry, candles, mirrors, anything she could get her hands on, she threw it. You and the other girls that just arrived could only watch in horror as her whole room becomes a mess with her belongings, some broken some completely shattered.

You wanted to say something. But you knew you couldn’t. If you stepped out of line or even talked back to any of the royals, you were surely to be punished severely later. Yet, you wanted to say something so bad. It was on the tip of your tongue. Because you knew the reason why it may smell different to the princess. To help your fellow friend in desperate need, you were going to say it. You pray to the gods that what you were about to say was right.

“Princess, if I may,” you started. The princess stopped what she was doing, midair, to give you the coldest stare you have ever received from her. You gulped. Well, too late to back out now. You bowed down your head respectfully while extending your hand to take the perfume. You don’t know why the princess decided to trust you at that moment, but she did. She nodded her head, allowing one of the servants to retrieve the bottle and place it in the palm of your hands.

“I believe it’s because your clothes already have a different perfume on it.” you explain. You pick up a different piece of clothing, one you knew was clean and free from previous scents, and spritzed the perfume onto it. “Here, does this smell like normal?” you offer the piece of clothing to the princess. For a moment, she stares at it, not believing your words. But she forcibly takes it anyway and smells it. The look of realization hit her harder than when she smashed her mirror against the floor. She spares you a second glance before handing off her perfume to someone and faces away.

“I would like to be left alone,” the princess states. After a synchronized bow from all her servants, you left the princess’s quarters and back to your own. When you were far enough, you let out a big sigh of relief. Man, that was scary. You probably shouldn’t be doing that again any time soon. Your friend hooked arms with you, the unexpected force made you loose your balance.

“Your intuition was spot on, once again,” she stated. You could only roll your eyes.

“I was just trying to help the situation,” you explained.

“Yeah, well if only the princess could use her brain once in a while, then she would have figured it out herself,” your friend puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.

“Well maybe her highness wasn’t feeling herself this morning,” you tried to defend her. But really, there was only so much you could defend her on.

“Oh, please, (y/n). You know that’s how she acts all the time. You act more like a princess than the princess herself,” your friend finally let the cat out of the bag. You quickly slapped her hand and checked your surroundings. Phew, no one of importance was in sight.

“Oh hush now. Don’t say things like that,” you scold her, giving her a stern look.

“What? You know all us girls think that. It doesn’t help that you look almost exactly like her. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were the princess instead.”

“Good gracious! Really? How could you say that so loud? What if someone overhears you? Then both you and me could get in trouble,” you warned. You knew your friend couldn’t care less. It was always gossip coming out of these girl’s mouths. That’s how news spreads fast around here. And you didn’t mind the gossip. Actually, you participated in the gossip too. There was a lot of downtime when you weren’t attending to the princess. So what do you do instead? Gossip. But you couldn’t have this type of gossip going around. This was dangerous.

The main girl who caused the princess to get upset, finally left the room. She was visibly traumatized by the whole event. Who wouldn’t be? Dealing with the princess is something else.

You noticed that the girl was bleeding from her finger. She must have gotten it when the princess was throwing glass around the room and it some pieces cut her.

“Come with me,” you gently grabbed her by the arm and led her to a room that was filled with different plants and bottles. The aroma immediately felt welcoming to anyone who stepped in. You went to a part of the room that you knew well and pulled out a bandage.

“This should do the trick,” you say as you finish wrapping her finger up.

“Thank you. How did you…”

“Oh, I learned a few things from the royal doctor. Sort of like an apprentice?” you explained. Being a servant isn’t the only task you knew how to do. On your spare time, you would come to the royal doctor and assist him whenever needed. In return for your volunteer, he taught you everything he knew about medicine. It was still a lot to process, but at least you knew how to do basic first aid.

“Are you even allowed to do that?” the girl asked. You thought for a minute. Was it? It wasn’t stopping you now.

“Well I guess it’s our little secret,” you put your finger to your mouth and gave a small wink.

After properly getting ready, you and the girls rushed to the princess’s side for it was your job to get her ready to be sent of and wedded. And she was not getting wedded off to just any prince. It was the rumored Blood Prince. Ah, yes. You heard much about this Blood Prince. He was the most vicious out of all the princes in the kingdom. Even more so than his eldest brothers. He was rumored to have sharp teeth and eyes that could kill with a single look. He was told to have scars marked all over his body from the battlefield. An ugly being, you imagined. Big, scary, intimidating, ruthless. God, you felt sorry for the princess for marrying such a man. You couldn’t imagine yourself marrying that type of person. Hearing stories about him made your blood run cold and chills down your spine.

You entered the princess’s room where a beautiful, white wedding dress, flowy, magnificent and perfect in all the right ways, was being fitted on the princess. You watched in awe because she looked absolutely fantastical in the dress. What a dream it would to be wear that dress only once in your life. At the same time her dress was being fitted, some servants were doing her hair and putting decorative pins and head pieces on. It was very chaotic in the room, with servants running everywhere, but it was all worth it for the princess to look this way.

You were preparing water for her hands and feet to soak while some of the girls that came with you were deciding which robe that best fits with her wardrobe.

“Your highness looks so lovely,” you commented, gently soaking her hands into warm bowls of water.

“Of course! I have to look my best for a special guest this afternoon,” the princess said in a cheery voice. You tilted your head slightly in confusion. You weren’t aware that the Blood Prince was coming to the palace. You thought the princess was being sent to him instead. You looked up and came into contact with a friend and she was speaking with her eyes.

She doesn’t know. She signaled to you. You frowned.

She doesn’t know?

She does not know.

Your mouth was left slightly ajar. The princess does not know that she is off to be engaged any moment now? This was a dilemma. She thinks a guest is coming. That’s why she’s dressed so much fancier than usual. But when she finds out that she is to be engaged, she’s going to wreck havoc in the palace. Now you really didn’t dare say anything now.

After finding out that very important piece of information, you could see that all the girls in the room knew, besides the princess. The tension in the room was growing increasingly more uncomfortable as time went on. But the princess was so air headed that she couldn’t read the room.

The princess was over the moon with happiness. And it was only because she could wear her fancy and expensive gowns that she can’t wear on the daily. She was skipping down the long corridors, humming a tune to only she knows as you and other servants follow behind her.

“Isn’t this dress beautiful? I feel like I’m in a wedding dress!” the princess exclaimed. You couldn’t help but raise a brow. Well, it’s because the princess is really in a wedding dress. But the princess did look beautiful beyond compare. She almost looked ethereal dancing in front of you like that. As the princess was dancing down the corridor, she passed by one of many large windows that gave a view of the front of the palace. A carriage was waiting to take her away to her fiancé, but she didn’t know that. Or did she?

She stopped in her tracks to take a better look at the carriage outside. A frown laid upon her lips and her eyebrows rightfully furrowed.

“Is that my carriage down there?” she questions. The ladies around you looked at each other, not knowing what to say. But even if they did know what to say, who was going to say it? One of your friends cleared their throat and bowed down to respond to the princess.

“It is, your highness,” she said.

“Whatever for?” a round of gulps could be heard from everyone there.

“For…your trip to your betrothed,” the girl’s voice shook from fear that the princess was going to blow up.

“My betrothed?” the princess repeated.

“Yes, your highness.”

“As in, to marry?”

“Yes, your highness.”

It was quiet. Nothing more came out of the princess’s mouth. And that scared all of you. This was not the normal reaction you were expecting. You expected her highness to rage, cry, scream, yell, destroy everything around her. But no. She was silent, like her tongue was ripped out of her throat.

In one quick movement, the princess turns around and dashes back to her bedroom. And who does she bring along? You! Before you could comprehend anything, the princess had taken you by the hand and now you were running down the corridor with the princess. The other ladies were running after you. When you turned back to look, you even saw a couple of guards running as well. But it was too late for them. The princess got to her room first, slammed the door closed, and barricaded the door with chairs to prevent anyone from coming inside.

“Your highness,” you call, out of breath from the sudden running. The princess didn’t answer you. She started taking off her dress, sending you into complete shock.

“Your highness! What are you doing?” you panicked. She only glared at you while not stopping what she was doing.

“Enough talking. Just take off your clothes,” she ordered you. You bit your lip. You had no idea what was going on but if she demanded it, then you had no choice but to obey. So, you stripped yourself of your filthy clothes and laid them on the floor. While you stood in front of the princess naked, she was getting the remaining of her clothes off. Then, she passed you her dress.

“Quick, put it on,” she said. You hesitated at first. You? Wear something only a princess could wear? But you couldn’t stall any longer. As quickly as you could, you put on the flowy wedding dress while the princess put on your peasant clothes. Banging was coming from the other side of the door, which only made both of you panic even more. If they came in while all this was happening, you would get into so much trouble. As soon as you both got situated in your new outfits, the princess gripped your shoulders so that you were looking her right in the eyes.

“Listen to me closely. You are going to take my place. I’ll be you and you’ll be me until you come back,” she shouted at you in a whisper.

“Your highness?” you began but she shut you up because she wasn’t finished.

“Your mission is to make this prince hate you so much that he calls off this marriage. Then you’ll return and everything will go back to normal,” she continued. It looked like she wanted to say more, but your time together was cut short. The guards had already pushed their way through the door and charging their way towards you. The princess, who was now dressed as you, quickly covered your face with the veil. The veil was thick enough that no one could see your eyes or face.

“Take the princess,” one of the guards ordered. The real princess bowed her head down, faking it until the end. The guards went straight up to you, grabbing you by both of your arms and forcibly escorted you out to the carriage.

And so there you were, on your way to some unknown kingdom, about to marry some man you didn’t even know. All because the princess ordered you to. No matter how much you hated the idea, you couldn’t even voice your opinions to her. You were in no position to do so. Before you left the palace grounds, you looked back, hoping that this was all some sort of sick joke. But the princess was looking down at you from the window, giving you a nod of trust. She trusted you. You had to fulfil her request.

This is how you found yourself in the presence of the most vicious Blood Prince, Bakugou Katsuki.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be put on a tag list! And leave your thoughts below about the first chapter! What did you think so far? How do you think the story is going to go? What did you think about the art? Speaking of art, here is the full image unedited! Are you in love with it just as much as I am?

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bnha art #bakugou angst

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one-piece-dumpster-fire · 4 years

Note

Hello! Could i please have some good good pregnancy and parenting headcanons with a fem!s/o for Law, Eustass, and Zoro please? Thank you so much and have an awesome day!

Oof pregnancy and parenting headcanon make me so soft, thank you very much for this sweet request🥺! I focussed a bit more on the pregnancy part rather than the parenting tho since I've written something similiar for Kid and Law already😅 Hope what I came up with suits you, and sorry for the long wait!

How they deal with a pregnant gf and having a baby headcanon

Trafalgar Law

because of his medical knowledge and observant nature, Law actually noticed the first signs of your pregnancy even before you did

so when you finally realize that you're pregnant and go to confront him with your discovery, he's anything but surprised

"Law, I need to tell you something. I'm-"

"Pregnant? Yeah, I thought so."

he looks pretty unbothered and composed, almost as if this isn't anything new to him, but on the inside he is completely tense and filled with anxiety. A baby just doesn't fit into your pirate lives. At all. However he doesn't want to show his true feelings and possibly cause you to panic. You already got enough on your plate with all the new physical and hormonal changes you're about to go through

personally Law didn't plan on having kids, ever, but what's done is done. To make sure that this is really what you want he'd still offer you the option of an abortion, but when you decline and tell him that you want to keep the child, he accepts your decision

"Alright (Y/N), brace yourself then. A few major changes are upon us..."

everything from the beginning of your pregnancy to the date of birth is planned out by him. Law doesn't want anything to go wrong and refuses to take risks. That means you'll spend most of your time either stuck by his side or in the proximity of another member of the Heart Pirates

Bepo, Penguin and Shachi are super excited for the kid and to be uncles. They all come up with their own ideas on what they'll do with the baby once it's born, and their enthusiasm sort of puts Law at ease. This means he and you at least won't have to deal with everything by yourselves

when you actually go into labour, Law's composed facade drops for a moment and he reveals just how stressed he's been up until now

in order to properly assist you and be there for you while you're giving birth, he forces himself to imagine that this is just an ordinary operation. It's not his girlfriend having his baby, he's not about to be a father in a few minutes-

all the stress and anxiety instantly falls off of him when he first holds the new life you two created.

the first time Law looks down at his baby he's absolutely mesmerized. Sure it's still bloody and screeching its lungs out, but despite all odds it's looking completely healthy and is actually,,,, really adorable? Holy shit, how did he manage to make something so pure-looking-

after cleaning the baby and introducing it to its mother, he brings the little human over to Bepo and lets it rest in the bear's soft fur instead of wrapping it up in a blanket. Not only should that be far more comfortable for the tiny thing, but it's also the first bonding experience with uncle Bepo. And while the baby is sleeping, Law walks over to check in on you and tells you how great you did

as far as being a dad goes, Law belongs to the supportive but distant type. Whenever he's got the chance he'll try to spend time with his kid, but there are often other, more important things he has to take care of

however he's still a proud parent and lowkey hopes that the child will take an interest in his work when it gets older. It shouldn't come as a surprise that one of the first things your kid will be taught by Papa Law is how to dissect a frog

Eustass Kid

his immediate thought when you let him know that you're pregnant is "how can I make this unhappen"

look at him, Kid is not ready to be a dad. Especially when it comes to his level of maturity he's basically still a child himself-

no one on the Victoria Punk is prepared for the big news. Their captain made a baby. There will be a kid running around the ship. Oh shit, everyone better start learning to limit their use of profanities already-

initially Kid acts pretty grumpy throughout your pregnancy. He didn't want this, but it's still happening. And he can't do anything against it. He's almost acting like a pregnant woman himself-

can not and will not handle your cravings/mood swings. Whenever you start acting up he just gets completely irritated and quickly peaces out when he can't come up with a way to deal with you

but what started out as regret turns into excitement when he thinks about how awesome his kid would be. With him as dad and you as mom it's only natural that the result will be amazing

and thus he starts to be a bit more open-minded towards the whole situation. Heck, he even gets lowkey excited and starts building a few baby cribs and closets for the child!

unfortunately tho Kid is anything but compassionate during your pregnancy, and it gets especially bad when you start showing. His immature nature shines through and he makes quite a few indecent comments on how you look a balloon,,,

for some reason he also tends to be more horny than usual. Hey, you already got a bun in the oven, so there isn't anything else you need to worry about, right?

in contrast to how he treated you during your pregnancy, he's actually very supporting and motivating during birth

lmao but that's mostly because he's eagerly waiting between your legs for the kid to plop out and right into his arm like a Christmas present

it's almost like a lottery to him and he's super excited what the brat will look like

however nothing could have prepared Kid for the moment when he gets to hold the baby for the first time. The young man basically beams with pride and grins from one ear to the other while the baby cries like an alarm clock

Kid's first time holding the newborn in a nutshell:

"Hehe, it looks like we got a girl here, ey (Y/N)?"

"Kid... that's the baby's ass. You're holding it the wrong way around."

he definitely comes up with ridiculous names for the child, such as: "Eustass Explosion", "Eustass Chainsaw" and his personal favorite- "Eustass the Destroyer"

putting his excitement aside, the young pirate captain definitely has to grow into the role of a father. At first he almost treats the kid like some sort of new toy or pet

you'll never catch him changing even a single diaper. Most of the time Kid tells Killer to man up, cover the holes in his mask, and take care of it by himself if he really wants to be considered 'the best uncle'

despite his rowdy behaviour he is aware that the child is 'fragile' and usually makes sure to keep it away from any dangerous stuff, meaning that the workshop is off-limits for the little one. Kid also never uses his metal arm when he's playing with or holding the baby; instead he build a more authentic prosthetic that'll allow him to hold the child more properly

Roronoa Zoro

his eye almost pops out of its socket when you tell him

holy shit! Zoro of course knew that sex makes babies, but what are the odds of this happening to you?! Besides he always considered himself to be too controlled and restrained for that to work?! Damn?!?!

despite the initial shock he wants to do his best to help you through the pregnancy. After all he basically caused this-

however Zoro can't even find the way to the grocery store to get some diapers

someone send him help. And by help, I mean Chopper

the reindeer himself doesn't know too much about pregnancies, but he's more than happy to collect some first-hand experience and teaches Zoro all about how to be a dad and what's going on with your body

whenever you're near he keeps his swords sheathed and tucked away from you. Once your stomach starts popping he's wary that if he comes too close to you with a sharp thing you might burst or something

at night he keeps watch like a guard dog, his overprotectiveness shines through and he often refuses to go to sleep before you

you probably go into labour while he's out getting lost or fighting some marines, but once Zoro gets the news he almost drops his sword and hurries back to be with you

but he arrives almost an hour later because he got so excited that he forgot the way back to the Sunny

Zoro really wants to help you and Chopper deliver the baby. He's constantly repeating what the reindeer doc says to you and at some point, when your pain reaches its peak, he even suggets reaching down and pulling the baby out of you with his own two hands lol

but once the first cries fill the rooms, he freezes up. It's done. Those nine months of worry, mood swings, suffering and cravings are finally over. A wave of relief washes over him as he smirks down at you, quietly saying how proud he is

however Zoro strongly refuses to hold his baby at first. He's genuinely scared he might drop it or accidentally crush it.

you and Chopper basically have to yell at him to get him out of his trance and convince the new father to take a look at his child

"Zoro, I did not go through hours of pain just so you can say no to holding our baby. For crying out loud, take your child!"

the second you put the baby into his arms Zoro's protective dad instincts kick in and now he refuses to let the child go again lmao

he's mustering the little one's face like some abstract oil painting, unable to tear his gaze from it and proudly recognizing all the similarities between the baby and its parents

luckily Zoro got some natural dad skills under his belt, and you both share the responsibilities evenly

he's never opposed to changing diapers or feeding the baby, even if the first annoys him sometimes. He also keeps the baby around himself 24/7- during workouts he puts it onto his back, when he wanders around the little one sits on his shoulders, and when he takes a nap on the desk the baby lies on his chest

all of the other Strawhats are more than welcome to take care of the baby from time to time and bond with the newest family crewmember to their heart's content. Well, that goes for everyone except Sanji. You better not let Zoro catch him handling the baby or a fight will break out-

#one piece #trafalgar law #eustass kid #roronoa zoro #law x reader #kid x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #op headcanon #one piece headcanon #one piece imagine

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chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Text

Lifespan • Mason Mount

Warning: mention of death, other than that I hope you like it x

When you started to think that something was wrong, that you were different from everyone else, you were afraid. Whenever you were on the verge of talking to someone about it, you simply couldn't; the fear of being seen as crazy or not being believed was always in the forefront of your mind.

It all started when you turned twenty-one, before that you had never had a chance to believe that something was wrong with you. Your sister had just become a mother and everyone in the family was so happy with the new arrival, including you, that you went to see them with your hands full of presents as soon as you could.

That little bundle was so small and defenceless, in his cradle carefree and ready to live all the life he had ahead of him. You took him in your arms, careful not to be too rough, cuddling him for a while, captivated by that little miracle and swearing to yourself that you would do anything to be an example to him.

Something shiny on his leg had caught your attention, a series of numbers running backwards like a countdown had you raising an eyebrow in confusion. 89:54:12...11...10...09... you had brushed it tentatively but nothing happened.

"You're all right (Y/N)? Is something wrong?" the new mother had asked, seeing you focused on looking at her son's skin and knowing how you were always looking for the smallest details.

Looking up at your sister and back down at the little leg, it was all gone. Just as it had appeared it was gone and you shake your head, "Nah don't worry about it. I'm just still in shock from this beauty"

Over the next few days that episode buzzed around in your head annoyingly, you were curious wanting to find out what it was but at the same time it scared you. What if it was a curse rather than a good thing? Several times you had gone back to visit your nephew and each time the number was different, lower. And you found you could only see it once a day, the sign disappearing just as it appeared. At its own pace. You could only see it on the side of the left leg, it was hard to see when covered up and you couldn't see it on yourself.

That thought now took up all your spare time, you had even researched it on the internet but had not been very lucky. You had found out what it was at your own expense.

You had errands to run that day and got up early, it was a nice day and you thought you'd leave the car in the garage and go for a nice walk. You look down at your phone as you wait for the pedestrian light to turn green and as you do so you realise your shoe is untied. You lean down to fix it and a sparkle draws your attention to your right, a little girl apparently alone with a backpack bigger than her on her shoulders is waiting beside you. 00:00:06 is written on her leg.

The light turns green and lots of people start walking quickly before getting stuck in the red light again. You hurry walking but when people start shouting to be careful you instinctively grab that little girl by her backpack pulling her to you avoiding an accident, a truck that didn't even stop.

"Thank you, ma'am"

"Oh my god are you alright?" you murmur shocked walking the child to the other side of the pavement safely as she nods and then goes on her way, you following her with your eyes. Until she collapses to the ground and you swear your heart skipped a beat as your legs start running towards her, 00:00:00 in red on her leg.

Mason immediately notices something is wrong with you as soon as he opens the door, your expression blank and your face almost colourless. He immediately wraps you in a hug closing the door gently and your grip tightens when he would like to pull away to look you in the eye.

"What's going on (Y/N)?" he asks worriedly, stroking your hair as you shake your head, you held on as you tried to resuscitate that little girl in vain; as they loaded her into the ambulance with the sheet on her tiny body and even as you answered the police's questions. And you're literally exhausted, tears start to roll down your cheeks as Mason forces you to look at him, laying his hands on your cheeks gently but firmly. "You're worrying me"

"There was an accident today" you murmur with a broken voice and he takes a step back to look at you entirely and make sure with his eyes that nothing is out of place. He pulls you to his chest again as he tries to get you to move towards the couch.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks softly not wanting to push you, you sit by his side leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. Your tongue goes to stop a tear that is falling down powerfully at that moment.

"There was a little girl" you tremble at the mere memory, "she was maybe twelve. And we were... there was a red light and then we crossed and she was alive"

"Oh babe" he sighs stroking your back, watching you shake your head.

"No Mase, she was alive on the other side of the road. Then... then she fell to the ground and-" a sob shakes your body as he looks at you helplessly.

"I knew it"

"What? Babe it was a random accident, you couldn't have known"

"I knew it Mason! I knew something was going to happen but I thought that having saved her from the truck she was going to be saved and instead..."

"What are you saying (Y/N)?"

"Mason, I'm losing my mind" you look at him genuinely scared and he wastes no time in wrapping you around himself again. "You just went through a traumatic event, it's normal for you to feel upset honey"

"No I- I need to tell you something" you sit up properly not breaking eye contact, watching him swallow but waiting for you to continue. And you tell him everything from the beginning trying to be as accurate as possible, from the birth of your nephew to the shiny writing on his leg; the research and testing to find out more and more every day, to that day when you really realised what it was by learning that you can't change fate.

"What's the point if I can't do anything to change it?" is the first thing you ask to a silent Mason, trying to absorb that strong informations all at once. And you can't blame him if he doesn't want to believe you, I mean it's kind of surreal, isn't it?

"You can see the date of people's deaths?"

"Apparently. But please call it a person's lifespan instead" he nods, his hand touching your knee to make you feel his presence and his thumb stroking you gently.

"Wow all this is just... wow. I wonder if there are more of you out there"

"You believe me?" you're on the verge of tears again as he smiles softly.

"Why wouldn't I, you have magic" he manages to make you laugh in spite of everything, a tear escaping your control but you promptly wipe it away.

"How does it work? Does it hurt?"

You shake your head, "I don't feel anything, just this light which is then replaced by numbers... I should have realised sooner" your gaze ending on Mason's legs who is thankfully wearing long trousers, no more numbers for today.

He follows your gaze, "Have you seen mine?" the question pops up and you quickly shake your head closing your eyes. "I can't see it if you've got it covered and I don't want to please"

"No hey it's okay, it's okay" slowly he pulls you with him until you're lying on the couch, you sigh settling yourself better in his arms focusing on his beating heart and nothing more.

"Have you tried searching on the internet?" you nod, "Yeah but I haven't found that much"

"Yeah but maybe now that you know what it's for you can look more properly"

"Some other time. I can't do it now"

"We'll do it together when you want to" he leaves a kiss on your temple as you give him a first sweet smile after all those tears.

Having someone to share all this with turned out to be a godsend. Just as he had said, since the accident Mason had been with you through everything and you had almost moved in with him.

You would have liked to say that you had learned to live with it, but the truth was that since that day you had been so afraid it might happen again that you no longer looked down. Mason had researched it for you, urging you to try this and that, sometimes much more excited about discovering new things about it than you were. But at the same time he'd also given you your space to decide how to deal with it all and you'd simply decided not to deal with it; not being able to do anything to avoid the inevitable had stopped you from studying how to live with it.

Your phone vibrates and Mason's name appears on the screen after a moment, your smile disappearing little by little as you accept the call. Hearing his voice calms you a little, but that doesn't mean you don't feel your heart in your throat when he tells you that he's in the hospital and that he and Declan were in an accident.

He needs you and you don't think twice about getting in the car and driving to him, phone to your ear as your eyes work further than your legs to try and find him as quickly as possible. And when you do, the relief is so intense that you hold him tightly to you as he groans slightly.

"How are you? Declan?"

"Just a few scratches. He was unconscious when they took him away" Mason sits back in the chair and you at his side stroking his back as you let him run through what happened with his mind, holding him in your arms when he breaks down just like he did to you when you needed him.

"(Y/N) I need you to do something for me" you don't need to make him continue any further to understand what's going through his head.

"No Mason" you shake your head seriously, "don't make me do that"

"Please (Y/N), I need to know" he murmurs looking into your eyes.

"Why? Even if it was you couldn't do anything so why would you want to know?"

"I'd like to make sure he's going to be okay and because I could be around if him..." his breath dies in his throat at the very thought.

"I can't" and you try to stop him as he shakes his head walking away to get some air, putting a glass divider between you and him.

Your gaze drifts from him to the door where nurses come in and out, your leg shaking rhythmically. You don't want to be the one to tell him that news, it would destroy him. But then why does it have to be bad news? Yeah, but what if it is?

You look at Mason one last time before getting up, your mind not even registering what you ask the nurse in the hallway; her sweet smile leading you past the room you seek.

"I'll only stay a couple of minutes, thank you very much" the nurse walks away and you watch your friend from a distance, still undecided as to whether that's the right thing to do. Silently you step into the room moving closer until you're beside the bed, Declan has a few scratches on his face and an injured shoulder at first glance but the fact that he's been unconscious for so long doesn't give the doctors the green light to dismiss him at the moment.

His legs are covered by a sheet and for a moment you think it's a sign. Your hand freezing in mid-air on the first try. And then the glow starting to appear even from under the sheet, your hand moving on its own to uncover his leg and your eyes closing at that light more brightly than usual. Your heartbeat the only thing you can hear for a moment until you open your eyes. A few tears escape your control as you pull the sheet down as if you got burned, your hand going to cover your mouth as you hurry out of that room.

"Oh (Y/N) what have you done?" you almost clash with Mason and he's quick to wrap his arms around you as you try to pull yourself together. When he hadn't seen you where he'd left you once he'd gotten back, he'd known immediately and the guilt had hit him hard.

He shouldn't have asked you, not knowing the emotional effort you have to put into all that. Declan was going to be fine and even though his fate may be another, knowing that beforehand wouldn't have changed anything; he'd be by his friend's side no matter what and putting you in that position...

"It's okay, I had to do it. If I can't use it to calm those I love, then when?"

"So...?"

"I can't know what's next for him but Declan still has a long life ahead of him" despite everything it's a relief to hear and the boy cheers slightly, his gaze inevitably shifting to his bed visible from outside.

And maybe that's what it's used for, knowing to be able to spend most of our time with someone we love; no regrets.

"Go to him" Mason leaves a kiss on your lips before going to sit next to his friend. A solid 62:03:20 runs down his leg.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #declan rice #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot

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words-writ-in-starlight · 3 years

Text

day 3: "insults"

Zetian came back to their chambers an hour earlier than she was supposed to, and the black-winged line of her lashes couldn’t quite hide the red rims beneath. She was sitting stiff and straight in her wheelchair, the way that Yizhi had learned to read as a kind of pain, like an arm tensed thoughtlessly to protect a bruise. And—he noticed it with some alarm—her golden robes, laid carefully out over her legs with his own hands, were spotted here and there with blood. There was some on her knuckles, spotting her right sleeve, and she held her hand delicately in her lap, as if it hurt her.

“Zetian?” he was already asking, concerned, as the door swung shut behind her. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”

“I’m fine,” Zetian said, and buried her face in her hands.

Yizhi crossed the room in a rush, and knelt in front of her, so that he could look up at her face and her hands. One, her right hand, was bruised, two of the knuckles split, as if she had punched something with enough force to break skin. He didn’t think she was crying, but her hands trembled, just faintly, as she lifted them, briefly, and closed her fists against her face.

“Zetian,” Yizhi said again, reaching up toward her hands. He caught her right hand in both of his, avoiding the worst of the bruising, and tried to gently pull it down. She resisted for a moment, then caved, all at once, letting her fist fall open so that Yizhi could rest her palm on his and get a look at the damage. “Zetian. What happened? Did someone do this to you?”

“No,” Zetian said, voice very flat. Her eyes were closed, and her left hand was pressing against the crease between her brows without regard for the formal makeup on her face. She had been due to give a speech this morning, and it had gone off without a hitch, his steel-eyed Empress the perfect combination of untouchable magnificence and cold, mortal ruthlessness. Yizhi had kissed her hands and told her as much, and she had scoffed, pinched his arm, and told him to go do his job instead of doting on her like the protagonist in some saccharine romance. He had chuckled, and she had smiled, and they had parted ways with one more affectionate kiss to her knuckles. She had seemed—not fine, she hadn’t been fine in a while, but she had been clear-eyed and sure. That had been maybe six hours ago.

“Come with me,” Yizhi said, standing slowly and keeping a light hold of her hand, cradled in his palms like a wounded thing. “I’ll wash your hand off, and we can get you into some clean clothes, okay?”

Zetian opened her eyes, staring at their joined hands like she wasn’t seeing them, and reached out with her left hand to touch her split knuckles, investigating. Yizhi closed his hands over her injured right, frowning protectively, and Zetian pulled back, blinking at the half-dried blood on her fingertips.

“I punched a wall,” she said neutrally.

Yizhi blinked himself, twice, and then said, just as neutral, “Okay.”

She was fingering at the blood on her right sleeve, now. There was some paint coming off her hand onto the fabric, the vermillion of her huadian smudged on her forehead and the heel of her thumb. She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in the act of rubbing the gold, heavily embroidered silk between her fingers.

“Zetian,” Yizhi repeated, softly, and crouched back down so that he could look up into her face again. “Please, tell me what happened.”

Zetian took a breath, a long, shuddering thing, and let it out in a weary gust.

“I—was trying to avoid—people for a little while,” she said, halting. “So I was in—the study. The big window, with the curtain.”

Yizhi nodded. He knew the one she meant—there was a deep window ledge, made up with cushions and a blanket, so that someone might sit there comfortably for a while. If that person was, say, an Empress in need of a moment to herself, the curtain could be closed to mostly conceal the window ledge and the person inside.

“I heard a pair of maids come in. I should have told them I was there, but I didn’t want to deal with the—everything.” Zetian made a communicative gesture to indicate the nervous prostrations and scraping that most of the servants directed toward her. She unapologetically relished the same behavior from the more insufferable upper class, but it made her uneasy to face it from those who had once been her peers. “So I stayed quiet. I left my wheelchair at the desk. I don’t think—I guess they thought it was supposed to be there.”

She paused there, tongue touching her front teeth, breathing. Her gaze was fixed on some nowhere place over Yizhi’s shoulder, and the lines of her face were hard, angry, but also oddly uncertain. Yizhi didn’t move, just waited, holding onto her injured hand.

After a moment, Zetian stirred again, and said, “I heard them—talking. About…”

She didn’t finish, but then, she didn’t need to.

Yizhi had loved Zetian for a long time, now that he let himself think about it. He had thought, somewhat ashamed of himself for his favoritism, that losing anyone else would be easy, as long as she was with him.

It had not been easy.

They didn’t dare to say his name during daylight hours, unsure of how the raw wound would show itself, too afraid to let anyone else see the depth of their loss. They were both as defensive as lost children, unwilling to let an outsider even look at their hurts, let alone try to touch them. Instead, Zetian and Yizhi curled together and talked in whispers, in the dark, and hid their bloody hearts in each other’s hands.

“Oh,” Yizhi said, quietly. “They—what did they say?”

Zetian’s eyes snapped to his, and all the confused distance was gone, leaving a flame that burned white in its place. Her meridians stirred, he could feel them through his touch at her wrist, and the simple spirit metal headpiece she wore in daily business glimmered as if it was under a brilliant light.

“They said,” she said, a deadly hiss, “that the best thing he ever did was die. They said that he had nothing worth living for. They said,” she went on, voice getting louder, “that he was a murderer, and an animal, and a stupid one at that, too stupid to run for his life. They said that he—he probably raped all his concubine pilots, and they must have been grateful to die just to get away from him, and that I abandoned him to die in the Bird, and that I was right. They said that I was a hero for leaving him behind!”

Zetian was shouting now, almost screaming, throat raw and eyes red and running with the force of her anger. She had reversed Yizhi’s grip on her right hand, and now she was clutching him so tightly it hurt, grinding the bones together, while her left hand was clawed in the cloth of her robe, twisted, knuckles standing out pale against her skin.

“They said that I haven’t held a funeral for him because he didn’t deserve to be remembered—that he killed his whole family and he should have just—”

She stopped, choking on her words, as if she was forcing them out through a stranglehold. Then she spat, “They said that he should have just let the army shoot him, and then all his concubine pilots would still be alive, and we’d all be a lot better off.”

Zetian was shaking, her whole body vibrating under Yizhi’s grip, so that she looked almost like he had, shuddering while his system fought to survive withdrawal. She was crying properly now, ragged sobs of rage and grief, and that awful look of lost, helpless confusion was back beneath it all, and Yizhi—

Yizhi didn’t know what to do to make her feel better, because he was feeling a sudden upswell of sympathy for Zetian’s decision to punch a wall.

He wanted to punch a wall, too. Or, even better, he wanted to go down to the security office and demand every surveillance video from the entire building, and go over them with a fine-toothed comb to find everyone who had ever spoken a single one of those thoughts aloud. Then he could deliver them all up to Zetian on a silver platter, and maybe that would make the glaring emptiness, where they had all-too-quickly come to depend on another person, less painful.

“We haven’t held a funeral because we don’t know he’s dead,” Yizhi finally said. His voice was weak, fragile-sounding, and he realized when he spoke that he was crying too. Not Zetian’s wracking sobs, but a steady trickle that dripped from his jaw and clogged his throat.

“I told him that!” Zetian said, the words torn out of her chest. She was curled over in her chair, clinging to Yizhi like he was the last hope of rescue after a shipwreck, and crying almost into her knees, hand pressed over her mouth. “I said that right to his face, I said that he should have just taken a bullet rather than let them force him into piloting! I said—I said he had nothing worth living for, and those girls had everything, and he should have died rather than—and he agreed with me! He agreed with me, and then he—and then—”

Yizhi gave up on grace and pulled Zetian bodily out of her chair, into his lap on the floor. He wasn’t big enough for it to be comfortable, for either of them—his shoulders too narrow, his limbs too delicate—but she didn’t hesitate to follow his lead. She pressed her face into his shoulder and he fisted one hand in her robes, and felt her take a great shuddering gasp of air, every fiber taut and shivering with emotion.

“I told him,” she said into his robes, as if confessing a capital crime, “that if he was going to rape me, he should at least be honest about it. I didn’t say it like that, but he knew—he knew.”

Yizhi closed his eyes, resting his cheek on her hair, and felt his own breathing hitch. Zetian kept talking, like she couldn’t stop the flow of words now that she had started.

“What if he—what if he thought I still thought of him like that? What if he saved me because he thought—he thought that he was worthless, or a monster, or that we’d be better off? What if—”

“Stop,” Yizhi said, barely a whisper. He wasn’t even sure Zetian could hear him, over her own voice, her own guilt. But she stopped, and just sat and shivered in his arms.

Yizhi took a moment to breathe, her headpiece digging into his temple as he tried to find words.

“He saved us,” Yizhi finally said, slow and careful, “because he wanted us to live. Because he loved us. We can’t—it’s not fair to him, to spend all our time trying to decide if he loved us because he hated himself. That won’t—it won’t help us. And it won’t help him.”

“I was so awful to him,” Zetian said.

“Well,” Yizhi said, managing a brittle laugh through his tears, “sometimes you’re awful. Sometimes he was too. And me, every now and then. What matters is that we try to fix it.”

Yizhi shifted his weight, and carefully lowered both of them down onto the carpet, curled up on their sides, face-to-face. Zetian’s makeup was ruined, her blotchy flush showing through, and he was sure he didn’t look much better. He thought, for a moment, about how they had slept curled up like this the night before the attack on Zhou province. But then, they had been framing another body between them, hands lightly linked over his abdomen, his hands touching them hesitantly every once in a while, anxiously, as if he thought they might disappear.

Now, in the Empress’ quarters, they laid there together on the floor. The light outside the window began to darken, and Zetian’s tears dried, leaving her makeup smeared in ghoulish streaks down her face, and Yizhi kept holding her injured right hand to his chest.

Yizhi didn’t know how long they had been laying there when Zetian spoke, quietly, her voice clear and her eyes closed.

“I miss him.”

“Me too,” Yizhi whispered.

“I want to find those maids and kill them.”

“Me too.”

“We probably shouldn’t do that.”

“No. I could have them reprimanded, though.”

“Do that.”

“Okay,” Yizhi said, and bent his head to kiss the tips of her fingers. “If you let me clean your hand.”

“Okay,” Zetian said. “In a little while.”

#whumptober 2021 #no.3 #insults #iron widow #fic #self harm #starlight writes stuff #BIG iron widow spoilers but honestly you've been here you know this #anyway!!!!!!#i wrote this in three hours #i am actually delighted with it #ot3: iron triangle #i just!!!!!!!!#i want them to be SAD together!!!!!!!!#where are they? what's going on? how does zetian being empress actually Work??????#i don't know and frankly i do not care! this is about them being SAD!!!!!!!

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knifefather · 3 years

Text

Looking Up at Us [Submission]

'Looking Up at Us

|*| DISCLAIMERS: Hello! It me! This is my first fic ever. Uhhh, Giorno’s a giant dick and Narancia’s an angel (literally and figuratively :] ) So yandere-ish themes, manipulation, and other mean things. This is a three-year span after the events of VA. |*|'

I APPLAUD YOU ON YOUR FIRST FIC ANON!!! This one really hit me right in the feels :'') Honestly you wrote Giorno so well because I literally wanted to strangle him!! He reminds me so much of Dio here and I fucking love it. I can't believe he stole their song ;a; OP outlined the yandere and manipulation content warnings, but there is also some major character death! Please be warned!

“Hey, when we get married let’s use that Aerosmith song.”

Narancia laughed as the smaller of the two let out an embarrassed squeal and tried burying her head deeper into his neck. They laid together on his bed in his rather untidy room talking about anything and everything that crossed their minds. But he was always so brash, and making her red was a favorite pastime of his. “Duuude, don’t even joke about that!’” she giggled, “We’re, still, ya know teens,” she emphasized that by flicking her hand around. He continued laughing, tightened his grip on her, and kissed the top of her head. Even if he was teasing the poor girl, he always meant what he said.

“You’d look really pretty in this dress I saw the other day. It wasn’t long as shit like those rich people…” Narancia slowly trailed off realizing she wasn’t responding. When he looked down at her, he saw she wasn’t smiling anymore and looked lost in her own thoughts. He wiggled away from her a little to look at her properly and softly called her name. “Hey, you good?”

“Promise me you’ll stay,” she looked at him earnestly and caught the poor boy off guard. What was going through that busy head of hers? He was speechless and for a moment he gawked at her. The frenzied teen then added with intensity, “You better stay with me forever and ever and and- I don’t- just… please..” And it finally clicked what she meant, and he gave her his biggest smile.

“Don’t worry, miele! You’re gonna have to deal with me for a while,” he chimed as he pulled her closer and gave her another peck to her forehead. She looked up at him with watery eyes and smile, “I’d love nothing more. Just promise me, please?

He leaned lower to kiss her softly on the lips. They both knew that was an impossible promise but still, “I’ll try my best.” He snuggled back up to her and they both slowly sunk back into the previous loving tranquility. They’ll both try, but mafia life was so unpredictable, but it’ll be worth the try if they could stay together.

“So, what are we gonna name our first kid?”

“Narancia Ghirga!!”

“Yeah, Mrs. Ghirga?” Narancia couldn’t stop laughing even as he was shoved off the bed.

Three months. It’s been three months, but his voice still rings in her head. His goofy smile, bubbly laughter, his smothering hugs were all nothing but distant memories that no longer warmed her, but instead chilled her core. Their places where they caused mischief and held impromptu dates only held ghosts of what was and what could have been. These thoughts haunted her every waking moment. Even when she slept, they caused nothing but sweet dreams that left her bitter and empty in the morning. But Narancia wasn’t the only one she missed dearly. Finding Abbacchio in the state he was and running back full of hope to the colosseum only to find out Bruno was the final victim. But thanks to him, they find out he was actually the first. Giorno had admitted after their discovery that they had been travelling with a reanimated corpse. At the time her, Mista, Trish, were too busy crying to even care.

For the new Don’s first year, she was present. When Fugo returned, she welcomed him with open arms. She stayed for as long as could but looking at Giorno mad her sick. Violence and anger grew inside by just being around him and his voice made her gag. Staying there brought her closer to the edge as she struggled between collapsing into tears or killing her Don in a fiery fit. That’s when she distanced herself from everyone. Of course, it worried Fugo and Mista to death when the last surviving member of their gang suddenly went off the radar. Even if it was for the wellbeing of everyone there, it didn’t sit right with anyone. Especially Giorno Giovanna.

The two-year absence was hell, for her anyways. At first jobs would take her resumes and interviews, but soon they would turn her away at sight of her face or sound of her voice. Her temporary apartment kicked her out and hotels refused service to the point she was forced to either stay in motels or rent somewhere for a while until they too kicked her out. When people started to whisper and gossip as she passed by, that was the final straw. It was lonely. It was frustrating! Was it because of the mafia association? No, that should guarantee a decent job and place to stay. And then it clicked. The root of her problems lies at the head of Passione.

So, here the young woman stood in front of him, arms wrapped securely around herself, as Mista stood watching them at the closed entrance. Giorno’s grown, nearly six feet and obviously physically stronger than before. She squeezed tighter hoping to mimic Narancia’s hugs as she tried to gather her courage and find the words. For a while it was suffocating silence as no one dared to speak first. They were both strategizing, planning how to attack and counter the other’s words. But finally, the devil’s replacement spoke, “Hello, tersoro. I’m glad to see you’re-“

“Cut the crap. I know what’re you doing. Stop it.” And with that she turned to leave. Mista stepped out the way to let her go until a soft laugh stopped her, “Are you still torn up about them? Really?” She stopped and slowly turned to face him. She finally snapped.

“Are you serious?” She spat at him. “Why wouldn’t I be upset that you killed my friends? My family?!”

“The love of your life?” She glared at the blonde as he had the audacity the smile at the thought of their deaths. In that moment, she wanted to kill him. Her stand was at the ready. Mista didn’t even attempt to reach for his gun as he knew she wouldn’t do something stupid like that, but he, too, thought of shooting Giorno as well. Giorno tsked and slowly walked around his desk to lean against the front of it, showing just how little her threat meant to him. “My dear, you don’t understand. They were steppingstones to help change Passione for the greater good.”

“Steppingstones?! Don’t act like their bodies were your path to “greatness”! What exactly have you fixed, huh? There are SEVEN more assassin squads. You haven’t stopped drugs like you promised Bruno. Instead, you’ve barely stopped selling it kids ten and under! Don’t act like they were your sacrifices!” The rage burned inside her, and she could no longer control her words. “Why did they have to go to heaven, huh?! They deserve to be here, not you! Bruno should be where you are! Leone should’ve left you die! Narancia should be back in school! It’s all your FAULT!” They both lunged at Giorno only for GER to grab the opposing stand and for Giorno to effortlessly grabbed her fist. One arm wrapped firmly around her waist and the other then swooped in and tilted her head up to kiss her ever so softly.

“My, my such a temper,” he murmured, “I’ve always loved that about you.” In that moment all the fire that was built up for years turned ice cold, as fear gripped her insides. She wasn’t expecting this strength. Wide eyes stared up into the unnatural turquoise of his. He slowly turned her head from side to side, as if examining her. “You poor thing. You look so tired and overworked,” and she was. “I bet those horrible businesses could see it on you. Turned you away like street trash. Poor, poor thing.” The young woman’s voice had left her as she tried to process everything. Just what was he planning?

“D-Don’t act like you didn’t do all that crap to me” She hated the sudden stutter in her voice but was thankful words even came out. The young woman started fighting in his grip which caused him to tighten. “Let me go! What was that kiss?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” But she was only met with a chuckle. As he spun her around and pressed her back against his chest. “My dear, I was only trying to bring back what was mine. Tesoro, mia. So independent. We’ll have to break that.” She fought harder and let out a cry of pain as Giorno dug his fingernails in the meat of her cheeks, getting annoyed at her fighting spirit.

“Now, I want you to listen to listen to me. I really don’t want to repeat myself,” he nipped her neck, “nor do I want to hurt more than I should.” Giorno leaned closer and whispered, “You’re mine. I’ve loved you for too long to let you get away and whore around like you did with him.” He shoved her to the ground and held her there with his foot, pressing harder with every squirm. “Go against me, and your little angelo will be dug up, burned, and flushed down a portable. Or maybe I’ll finish off the rest of your gang.” She struggled to look up at him as he glared down at her. His mouth quirked into a smirk as he spoke again, “Whose to say mafioso even go to heaven, hm? My sweet, delusional darling.” Giorno dropped to the floor and scooped her up in his arms again hugging her tightly. She was too scared to fight back. Not knowing what would set him off. He quietly laughs at how broken the poor woman was. So easy to break in already.

“Let me take care you. Love you. Cherish you like you deserve. You’ll learn to love me.” He gripped her arms in a bruising grasp and whispered dangerously smooth, “Or you’ll die trying.”

___________________________________________

Her wedding gown shimmered and swayed gently as she and her new husband made their way to the center of the dance floor. Each step weighted heavy on her heart as the gravity of it all grew. Their movements were calculated and coordinated, just like everything else because it was all artificial for her. There was no true love, no true feelings in this forced arrangement. No more fight in her dull eyes that refused to make eye contact with anyone because then they would see just how much he’s broken her in just a year. One wrong move will surely be the one she’ll ever make.

No one in the ballroom could see the despair ripping away whatever dignity was left as she wrapped her arms around his neck or the bile she choked back as he greedily slipped his arms around her waist. If only she could keep tightening her arms like a noose until he was no more but a horrid memory. The room was filled with ‘awws’ and loving gazes as the couple settled gracefully into the position they had practiced many a times before. She finally turned her emotionless gaze to him. Giorno Giovanna chuckled at her. His new wife was so dramatic.

“And now the newly weds will share their first dance together!” someone, who she didn’t care enough to learn their name, announced as if he was getting paid on his excitement and not on the fact if he squealed, he gets killed. She closed her eyes as the crowd cheered, swallowed her sickness, and sighed. She made it this long without throwing up or crying, she can get through this dance.

“The groom has picked this song out specifically for his new, beautiful wife. Isn’t that romantic?” The crowd cheered and clapped in blissful ignorance at the display of affection. The bride’s eyes snapped open at this new revelation and stared in shock at Giorno who only smiled. But when the music began, her heart finally burst. Tears welled and spilled freely down her cheeks as that Aerosmith song, their song, played and she was forced to move to its now bittersweet beat. Giorno’s wife shakily looked up at him and chocked on her tears. Once again, chuckled and lean in to whisper with honeyed venom his final victory,

“Oh miele, I bet he’s looking up at us right now, amore mio.”

(OK Tumblr formatting is weird but I wanna add: Yes it Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing that Narancia and darling picked as their first dance which Girono stole. And Narancia was the only one allowed to call darling Miele as an inside joke for “Honey! I’m Home”. Also WHY WAS THIS 2K+???)

#god im still in awe of this #so freakin good #narancia ghirga x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #cw yandere #cw major character death #submission #not mine #jjba #not sfw #suggestive

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 5.2

Author’s Note: I saw this on pinterest and thought it applied to Xiao XD P.S. Do you readers like that the story is in 2nd POV, or should I change it to 3rd person? My thinking is this POV allows me to get away without mentioning appearances or a chosen name so ya’ll could be put in OC’s shoes?

..............................

Is it just me, or is he looking my way? You caught Childe in the act while you and your team retreated into the opposite tree line after Aether had taken the dragon tooth. Something didn't feel right. The trees seemed to close in on you like tunnel vision. Was he planning on attacking you with the skirmishers at his side? Was he going to show his true colors now? Is it time to face death?

He dismissed the soldiers and retreated from the direction you had all spotted the skirmishers in the first place. He made a point to cast a meaningful glance your way.

I can't let it happen now, you looked to each of your teammates as you all ran through the snowy woods. If he brought all of those Fatui agents on board with taking you out, the entire group would be overwhelmed. The sheer cold puts us at a disadvantage. Bennett could get hurt. Xiao can't fight with his full strength. When was the last time Aether and Childe sparred? I can't rely on those results to protect me either.

No one was paying attention; you could slip away and try to strike a deal with the Harbinger. Bargain for Xiao's freedom and safety. You were hypersensitive to the weight of your coat on your shoulders, and the crunching of snow beneath your boots. He can't hurt us now...not now!

You peeled away from the group and they continued to run towards a cave several hundred yards from their current position. No one had heard you. When you finally reached the first firepit, you found Childe waiting next to it.

"Oh there you are, ojou-chan! Did you get the tooth? Where are the others? They didn't run into trouble, did they?" He greeted you with his signature friendly stature.

"Drop the act, Childe." You came to a halt maybe ten feet from him, with your back to the firepit. It warmed your body significantly and you could finally feel your fingers and toes again. He was on the far end of the open area.

"Whatever do you mean, ojou-chan?" The mask didn't crack.

"We're alone now. Is that what you wanted?"

Childe stared at you for a moment before breaking out into a loud fit of laughter. "Oh ojou-chan, you know me so well〰" He took a couple steps toward you. "You should know I've been meaning to talk to you."

"That's close enough." He stopped. "I know what you're after."

"Oh?" A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, one that you've never seen before. "Enlighten me then."

"I don't want Xiao dragged into whatever mess you brought upon us. Whatever your plan entails, it ends with me."

"A noble sacrifice for a man that will not love you," he smirked. "Why do you try to protect him when he can clearly fight for himself?"

"He's been through enough already," your hands closed into fists as you recalled his horrific past. "I'll go with you, but only if you give me your word you won't take him too."

"Ha! I feel no need to fight you, ojou-chan." The sincerity in his voice attracted your gaze back to him. "I don't wish to hurt you."

"Huh..?" That's out of character. Is this some sort of trap?

"I...have other goals in mind. They require your cooperation, of course. And your cutting of ties with the adeptus."

"Cutting ties? Why would I do that?" Your brows furrowed.

"My loyalty lies with the Tsaritsa, but I have a special interest with this mission after meeting you, ojou-chan," he made his way closer, and you stood in total confusion. "I will personally see to it that you will not get harmed at all in Snezhnaya. It all depends on your answer."

"You...I don't get what you mean. What answer? What exactly are you asking of me?" Whatever it was, you sure as hell weren't going to agree with it. But as soon as the questions left your lips, you knew.

He does like you.

Childe took note of the realization--and the fear--on your face and continued. "Surrender is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle. This is a simple route that avoids all the fighting and pain. All you need to do is allow me to love you, and I won't harm your friends. You have my word."

"L-love me?" The words left a terrible taste in your mouth. "I...I could never! I could never love you, either! You killed my Granny...you stole her house from her frail hands. You...You!" Your sword made a metallic sound as it was unsheathed.

Childe inhaled and manifested his bow. He nocked an arrow onto his finger and drew the string to his cheek. "A most expected answer, ojou-chan. Thank you for strengthening my resolve. This will be much more enjoyable now." Whatever turmoil that shone in his eyes was long gone and replaced with pure malice. "Let's make this a fair fight." The arrow shot into the fire and extinguished it.

"Tch." You ran toward him as fast as you could in the snow, and crossed sword with lance.

"Not bad," your opponent grinned with satisfaction. "Where'd you learn this technique from?" You somehow managed to keep up with his unrelenting blows thanks to the muscle memory that belonged to Xiao. "I don't recall the adeptus ever training you."

"Ngh!" He landed a kick to your stomach and you fell into the snow. Childe let you get back up, completely high on the thrill of fighting you and more than intent on dragging it out so he could watch your fighting spirit diminish. I may be keeping up with him, but I can't land a solid blow like this. You slowly removed your two remaining jackets and tossed them into the snow next to the extinguished firepit. If I can somehow finish the fight quickly...You knew it was a hopeless battle. A fight between a non-vision wielder and a harbinger that wields both vision and delusion? Complete and utter self-annihilation will ensue.

"I admire your tenacity, comrade," he watched the jackets fall. "But now that I have my answer, there's no reason to wait any longer." He shoved his lance towards you when your guard was down.

"I won't let you hurt him!" You swung your blade to parry, and a sudden blast of material sent the two of you flying backwards into the snow. Your vision was suddenly looking into the tree canopy. "Ugh, wha--?" You sat up to find ice shards scattered across the snow. Something cool and metallic sat in your free hand. You opened your palm to reveal what you least expected.

A vision.

You stared at your hand with bewilderment while Childe rose to his feet with a mixture of shock, admiration, and annoyance. "I see. An unexpected development," he remarked with cold eyes. "It's a shame you won't have the chance to wield it properly against me. He drew his bow and aimed for your chest. Another block of ice manifested before the arrow could pierce you.

You placed the artifact into your jean pocket, and you rose to your feet with a newfound confidence. Maybe you could beat him here and now. Images of Xiao's fights involuntarily crossed your mind, and a lance of ice materialized in your hand. You held it so that the tip pointed directly at Childe.

Another clashing of blades, this time converting Childe's into an ice sculpture. But not before you had managed to freeze his leg into the snow for a hot second. You ducked at his swings, parried his attacks, and followed through with a sequence of your own--or rather Xiao's--attacks. It looked like you were gaining the upper hand until Childe caught your blade in his gloved palm.

"Thank you for the entertainment, ojou-chan," he growled. "But this is where it ends for you." Did you really think he hadn't studied your newfound techniques during your previous fighting session? So naïve of you, ojou-chan. You can't use the same tricks twice.

You retracted your weapon and lay waste another blow. He easily parried it. You engaged in a combo before swiping your feet at his legs; he leapt away before you could knock him down. You were frustrated now, your movements becoming sloppier with each passing movement.

There's the real you, he mused. His frozen blade dug into your dominant shoulder with such force that he had you pinned to a tree. He felt nothing but sadistic pleasure course through his veins at the sight of you squirming in pain.

"Gah!" A shriek escaped your lips and your lance dropped from your hand. You tried to claw the spear out of your body as he stalked ever closer to you.

"I don't even need Foul Legacy to kill you. You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams," Childe stalked towards you as he twirled a new hydro polearm behind his body, stopping once its blade pressed against your neck. He could kill you in an instant, and he would if he wasn't required to bring you alive.

You were seething with anger and hatred. It was stupid of you to go after him on your own, to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict when you knew all along that there wouldn't be one. It didn't matter now. Your anger subsided, shoulders releasing themselves from the tension in your muscles once you thought of an idea. Even the pain in your dominant shoulder seemed to subside a bit. Your sudden change in demeanor made Childe's grip loosen for a moment as he questioned the newfound peace emanating from you.

Your eyes closed and your lips curled into a smile. Adeptus Xiao, you called to him in your heart.Please hear me and answer my prayer for protection.

A sudden gust of wind blew against your back, and Childe faltered. He looked to you for an explanation, and you met his gaze through his mask. "I know, but he can."

Xiao burst into Childe at an incredible speed, knocking him square into another tree. The trunk splintered in half from the force. He conjured his polearm and held its blade at Childe's throat. "Why the sudden politeness in your prayers?" He called out over his shoulder without taking his eye off the Harbinger. I'm cursed with hearing her rambling whenever I'm gone, and only now she speaks politely to an illuminated adeptus? Despite that thought, he actually loved hearing your voice reach his ears.

"I-I don't know.." WAIT, he COULD hear me all this time?! Blush further tinted your pink cheeks that were red from the sheer cold.

"Tsk," Childe spit blood onto the snow and glared at the yaksha.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't decapitate you here."

Childe wasn't going to give him a reason and debated on conjuring his polearm instead. Here he was, about to die at the hands of the damned yaksha, and all because he had decided to give you a chance to 'escape' a portion of the hardship that awaited you. Signora would lose what respect she had for him if she ever found out. Oh well.

"Ngh," you writhed against the tree. Your feet were just inches from solid ground, making this injury all the more painful as you hung from the lance. You couldn't move your dominant arm anymore. Xiao let go of Childe's collar and moved to your aid. He slipped your other arm over his shoulder so he could relieve the pressure off of your injury, then yanked the spear out without warning. Your shout of pain scared the nearby foxes away.

Xiao gave the Harbinger one last glare before he lifted you in his arms and took off at an incredible speed. It was only a matter of seconds before the two of you caught up with the rest of the group, who were waiting just inside a small cave that held mysterious lab equipment.

"Be careful," the yaksha set you on your feet but refused to remove your arm from around him.

"There you are! W-where'd Childe go?" Bennett paled when he saw your injury. "Here, let me see that." Aether, Paimon, and Xiao exchanged knowing looks while Bennett examined your shoulder. "You should sit down. This isn't anything I can't fix!"

"What happened? Did Childe...?" Aether trailed off once he returned with a bowl of water from a boiling pot.

"Mn," you winced when Bennett peeled your shirt off of your bloody skin. "I thought he was conspiring with those agents when we were making a run for it, so I followed him."

"A foolish decision," Xiao grumbled. He took the water from Aether and held it to your lips.

"Were you at least able to find anything else out about his plans? Or Signora?" Paimon spoke up. "It's not worth getting hurt over if you just throw yourself in harm's way like that."

"I thought he was going to..." your eyes flicked to Xiao's for a split second before they fell to the ground. '--Hurt you,' you wanted to say. But the yaksha would not hear of it if you said something so foolishly naïve. You were just a measly human after all, with little knowledge of fighting and a large heart that wanted to protect those around her. A big heart could only go so far; it proved useless in your battle today. Or did it? You nearly jumped up when you remembered, "I have something! I got something from this!" Your loud yelp scared the daylights out of Bennett, and he nearly yanked the stitch out that he had just put into your skin. You dug into your pocket and pulled out the artifact.

"Is that--?!" Paimon and Aether sprung to their feet simultaneously.

"A vision?" Xiao's eyes widened slightly. And a cryo one, at that.

"So cool!" Paimon spun around with excitement. "You're officially one of us now! Er, not that you weren't to begin with--"

"Congrats," Aether nodded and flashed you a toothy grin.

"Yeah, congrats!" Bennett also flashed you a bright smile and observed the trinket in your palm. "Wow, we're like, polar opposites!"

"Heh, yeah," you nodded with a faint smile. Your eyes found Xiao's, which were locked onto your vision. "Xiao?"

"You received a blessing from the very god that's hunting you. Do you not find that odd?" His lack of enthusiasm made your chest ache in disappointment.

Was he not proud of such an accomplishment?

"Yeah now that you mention it," Paimon held her chin and thought. "It is really weird. Why would she make her target more powerful? Wouldn't that just make it more difficult for her to capture you?"

"Did Childe say anything about it?" Aether prompted.

"No," you shook your head slightly and pursed your lips. "He seemed as surprised as I was."

To be blessed with the cryo vision, one must commit an act that revolves around love, Xiao's brows furrowed. Had she done something on the behalf of her grandmother, or is this all in the Cryo Archon's plan? It never crossed his mind that you had gotten it on his behalf.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #fanfiction #xiao fanfiction #xiao one shot

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thirsting-over-demons · 3 years

Text

The Lingerie Game

{An Obey Me Fic} – F!MC

Synopsis: A game is happening at the House of Lamentation— anyone who sees MC not fully clothed will get the opportunity to spend 12 hours time alone with her wearing lingerie of their choice.

<<CH2

Chapter Three: A Game of Strip Poker

warnings: mildly n.s.f.t, sexual themes, poker

Mammon cashes in on his 12-hour reward. He's decided to teach MC the ins and outs of poker, but with a twist. However, the game can't last forever.

Word Count: 5610

Sitting in wait for MC is a package carefully positioned in front of her bedroom door. A gold ribbon wraps around the box, contrasting with the plain brown paper that covers it. Attached is a note that reads:

My room! Saturday night!

…

Wear this underneath your normal clothes.

“Wow. His handwriting is worse than mine,” MC comments as she reads the note. She also remarks on the lack of signature. It’s a good thing that it’s obvious who sent this. No one else but Mammon could be so confident yet convey such bashfulness through writing.

As soon as she finishes reading, she takes the package into her room, eager to see the lingerie Mammon has picked out. Upon opening, she initially notices the color scheme—black and gold. As if she could expect anything else. She goes on to pull out the first piece, holding it in front of her to get a better look. In her hands is a short, black chemise with a sheer body. An outline of lace separates the see-through fabric from an opaque bikini. What’s more, golden dagger-shaped shards hang off the brassiere while metallic specks can be seen throughout the flowing fabric.

He expects me to be able to wear this underneath my regular clothes? The frown on her face as she thought this is replaced by an affectionate smile as she continues to stare at the chemise. She then sets it aside and lets out a sentimental breath as she does so. Reaching into the box again she pulls out a pair of black boyshorts studded with silver white diamonds on the sides. Attached to the shorts are garter straps with gold-colored clasps at the end. Stockings, however, did not come with the set.

“I wonder if that was on purpose,” she mutters to herself. “Oh well, guess we’ll find out Saturday night.” She stares at the lingerie laid out on her bed, and for a moment, thinks about all the potential activities Mammon has planned.

Whatever it is, I’m looking forward to it.

Saturday has finally arrived and after a long day of making up missed school, Mammon and MC could use some winding down.

“Why did we have to spend a whole day at school for just a couple of lousy hours?!” Mammon complains as the two walk home.

“Because he’s a sadist,” MC replies. There’s no denying that ‘he' refers to Lucifer. She’s truly contemplating whether it was, indeed, worth it after having lost eight hours of her day off to forced independent study. “At least there’s tonight.”

Mammon chuckles shyly and agrees. His confidence picks up speed as he states, “Ya know it’s gonna be fun cause The Great Mammon planned it!” A grin plasters his face while he says this.

In response, she comments on how it sounds like she’ll have to take some time to relax beforehand.

He agrees rather begrudgingly, his disappointment shining through despite having just spent the first half of the day together already.

The two eventually reach home and part ways, having agreed to meet in Mammon’s room after dinner. MC has no idea what the evening plans could be, but knowing him, she’s going to need energy. With this is mind, she decides to nap in the time before dinner, and makes her way up to her room. Once there, she manages to only take her shirt off before flopping onto bed and falling asleep. The cool fabric is refreshing compared to the hot air outside, perfect for afternoon dozing.

A knock on the door disrupts her slumber. With it, a lazy acknowledgement escapes from MC, prompting the knocker to enter the room.

“Dinner's ready, MC,” Satan calls out. In response, all he hears is mumbles coming from the body half-under the covers. Satan sighs as he steps further into the room. “It’s not good to sleep so early in the day.” He immediately goes from lecturing to tempting as he adds, “Besides, I made your favorite.”

This sparks some energy in MC. Satan’s cooking is always delicious and better yet he says it’s one of her favorites. She quickly pushes herself up and the blanket that was covering her falls to the side. Still in bed, she turns to face him and with resolve, tells him she will be right there.

He decisively ignores what she said to instead ask, “Are you not wearing a shirt?”

MC looks down to confirm that she is, in fact, shirtless. Upon realizing what this means, she looks up, stares ahead at the wall in front of her, and says flatly, “No. I am not.” She can’t believe how quick that was.

“A win-win for us both, it seems,” Satan is obviously pleased with what just happened. “I’ll let you get dressed.” He then takes his leave, closing the door behind him.

MC remains sitting in bed, her eyes lingering blankly at the space Satan just left through. That was almost embarrassingly too fast. It’s only been less than a week since the game first started and already two prizes are being rewarded. Let’s just focus on tonight, she thinks as she pushes the encounter out of her mind. But, first, food.

Dinner passes without much incident. To their displeasure, the brothers know Mammon will be getting uninterrupted time with MC tonight. But the punishment from last time is still fresh in their minds, so they tended to steer away from that topic. Only the rogue complaint here and there made it out their mouths. Not that any questions would be answered anyway; MC is unaware of the activities for the night and there’s no way Mammon would tell his brothers what he has prepared.

Upon finishing her meal, MC heads upstairs to get ready for the night. First, a shower is in order. Can’t feel her best without one. She makes sure to use the scents she thinks Mammon would like best. He always seems to try to stand close to me when I use the strawberry-scented stuff.

After washing, she tosses on some throw-away clothes for the walk back to her room. She’s too wet to immediately put on the lingerie and she’s certainly not walking back in a towel. There can’t be two winners in a day.

She's eventually able to wear the lingerie and walks over to the mirror hanging on her door. Moment of truth. She looks over her reflection, quite pleased with how she looks. “Who knew Mammon could pick out something that looks so good?” Her thoughts instantly leave her mouth. “Well, I guess modeling helps.”

Still, there’s the matter of trying to wear it under her everyday clothes. It definitely wasn’t designed to do that. A larger, loose-fitting shirt will work, but the bottoms might be a bit trickier. Jeans definitely won’t work, in fact any type of pants won’t. She’ll have to go with a skirt. The two tops can easily be tucked in with that too, making it slightly more manageable.

The completed ensemble is a bit uncomfortable, but it’ll do. He can’t be planning on never seeing the lingerie. Eventually she can take off the other clothes…right? Well, either way, it’s time to head to Mammon’s room.

She announces her arrival with three sharp knocks. In return, she hears a startled Mammon telling her to come in. When she enters the room, she sees him sitting on the couch, his back to the door. She also notes the trashcan filled to the top with crumpled up paper. Seems like it took him a couple times to find the right words for the note earlier.

“You ready?” she asks.

“I’ve been ready,” he replies a little impatiently while turning to face her. His tone quickly changes, though, as he attempts to hide this anxious eagerness. “Not that I’ve just been sitting here waiting!” He swiftly decides to change the subject to avoid any further hole digging. Instead, he comments on what MC is wearing. On how little it is, in fact.

“What? You told me to wear my everyday clothes,” she says, genuinely confused by his line of reasoning. “The skirt isn’t even short. It’s mid-length.” MC lifts the ends while she states this, as if to prove the point.

This causes Mammon to look away. It takes him a slight moment to regain himself before he says, “I guess it can’t be helped.” He gets up from the couch and walks over to MC. Draping his jacket across her shoulders, he tells her, “Wear this.”

She’s completely baffled at this point. More clothes? A couple seconds are spent in wonder until she slips her arms through. She doesn’t completely mind. As the jacket settles, a scent drifts over her.

It smells like him.

MC hesitates to ask for an explanation, but the curiosity is pressing. “So, what’s the deal with the clothes, anyway?”

“Huh?” Mammon acts as though she knows what they’re going to do. “Well, with what you had on, you’d only have to lose twice.” This does nothing to clear up mystery, and its only when he sees MC's puzzled expression does he realize that. He finally reveals what the two will be doing, “I’m gonna teach ya poker!”

Of course. He has wanted to play countless times before, but MC didn’t know how nor was any interested in learning. But now she has too. On top of that, it seems like it’s going to be strip poker. How apropos.

“I see.” Good thing she took that nap. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have the mental energy to be taught anything else that day. “Alright, let’s get to it.”

Mammon gives a hum of agreement and the two make their way over to the couches where he’s set up the cards. On the table are examples of possible hands in order of ranking. As he goes over them, he makes sure to give MC enough time to properly memorize the categories. When she’s had her fill, he continues to explain the rules and mechanics of the variant his chosen in-depth.

Plainly, players will be dealt two cards, then five will be laid onto the table as community cards. Use the two cards in combination with the ones of the board to make a better hand than the other.

“I’ve decided to go easy on ya!” A huge smile can be seen on Mammon’s face. “This one’s the easiest to learn, so you should have no problem playing.” It’s obvious he’s having so much fun teaching her something he loves.

MC smiles in response. Seeing him so enthusiastic makes him so endearing. He’s quite serious about it too. No way he’s not by how thoroughly he’s explaining the game.

Soon enough the two begin playing, starting with some practice rounds. When MC decides she has the hang of it, she suggests they raise the stakes by finally betting clothes.

“Ya haven’t won yet!” Mammon rejects the idea straightaway. “Ya hafta win first,” he clarifies.

She has to wonder if he’s doing such a slow reveal on purpose. No, of course he is. First the long lesson now all the practicing. Though, she has to admit, it is more fun this way—there’s a buildup, anticipation. And there’s no point in rushing, they do have half a day. So, she's content to carry on without anteing for now.

While there’s a bit of enjoyment in trying to win against Mammon in something he excels in, MC is starting to lose interest. The lack of risk is starting to compromise the point of playing, even if she always either loses or folds. All she has to do is win once, then the real game can begin. Time to really focus.

Up to this point, she’s just been paying attention to her own cards and trying to beat Mammon’s hand. She’s been foregoing any observation of her opponent proper. Right, I’ve got to play the player as much as the game. She starts with some simple watching, noting anything that might help her: expressions, movements, comments, etc. Further scrutinizing is done by deliberately making a couple of bad moves to gauge his reactions. She’s getting nothing from him.

A couple more rounds go by, and MC has concluded that Mammon is unreadable, almost. The only time he reacted, just slightly, was when she nearly won. He seemed almost proud. That’s got to be her angle. She’s not skilled enough to read him, but she can coax him into giving away information. Just have to ask the right questions.

It takes some tries before finding the most effective line of questioning. Problem is, before, she wasn’t asking too many questions. Now, it’s like a flood gate has been lifted.

“Finally getting serious, huh?” If Mammon knew what she was up to, he wasn’t showing it. Additionally, the influx of questions hasn’t thrown him off. Rather, he’s quite excited to show off his talent in front of MC. Maybe a bit too excited. He’s letting down his guard.

Which is perfect for her. She needs this win. In fact, she might have him. The last thing she asked caused a slight stir in Mammon. “So, a pair in hand and a pair on the table is a two pair?”

“Yep! Got it!” Mammon's response showed no sign of hesitation or worry. But there was the tiniest hint of disappointment hidden within his words.

This is what tipped MC off. He thinks he has a better hand. Good thing her cards are better than what she said. And with what’s on the table, there's a good chance his cards will lose to her actual ones.

“Alright let’s show ‘em,” she says as she lays her cards into view.

Mammon almost immediately declared himself winner until she pointed at the three aces on the table, those being the two in her hand and then the community one. In addition to the pair included on the board, that makes her a hand a winner compared to Mammon’s, who only had five cards of the same suite.

“Guess we can start anteing then,” MC proclaims. She’s ready to stop being so damn uncomfortable because of the weird layers she’s wearing. She may not even try the next rounds, not that she’ll let Mammon know that. He would try to make excuses to prevent her from stripping for sure. “Actually, maybe you should explain how you’re thinking of doing that first,” she follows up after realizing he never clarified those particulars.

Mammon goes on to lay out the rules he’s devised. Simply, if both players show their hand, the loser has to remove an item of clothing. There’s no penalty to folding considering the circumstance.

Sure enough, the next round plays and she ends up losing an item of clothing. Can’t say she ended up not trying, though. She just didn’t try as hard. It was fun learning how to play against Mammon, but it’s too much now. There’s no way she can keep up steam.

She opts for the skirt first. It’s been the major cause of her discomfort, surprisingly to her. The band has been causing the two shirts to rub against her skin nonstop. She sticks her thumbs in to separate it from herself and lifts herself off the couch just enough to pull the skirt off, setting it to her side. With that she returns her gaze to Mammon.

This prompts a small fuss from him. Snapping out of a lascivious stare, he spits out, “Why'da go for that first? I gave ya the jacket!”

That’s the other reason. She doesn’t want to take his jacket off. She tells him as such, burying her head in it as she does. It’s soothing in a way.

A small amount of color rises across Mammon’s face from this. He gets up wordlessly and walks over to MC. Taking off his own sunglasses, he puts them on her, slightly brushing her cheeks as his hands slide past.

“There,” he says as he looks at her before walking back around the table. He seems satisfied with that explanation, or rather, lack thereof.

“These will literally be the next thing I take off.”

“They’re suppose'da be.” Mammon goes on to deal the next round. It was tight, coming down to who had the higher cards. Ultimately, he won by a hair.

And the glasses come right off.

The following hand plays much slower. MC takes her time to analyze everything, thinking of endless possible card combinations that’ll earn her a win as the community cards are laid down. She’s decided she can’t be the only one stripping.

It’s down to the last card on the table and she has to choose whether to show or fold. It’s a decent enough hand. She’ll show.

Mammon's the first to flip his cards, revealing a respectable hand, as well.

“Are you sure you haven’t been cheating?” She suddenly asks.

“Huh?” Mammon was taken by surprise with this. A little offended, he answers, “I may bend the rules sometimes. But this isn’t the time and place, MC. Even I know that.”

“You’re right,” she turns her cards over. “Because you would’ve won, then.” She reveals a hand that triumphs over her opponent’s.

“MC!” He exclaims both pleased and a little unsettled. “Ya had me going there. Hah! Look at ya.”

But she is just looking at him, waiting with a smile half-cocked. They showed their cards. She won. He lost.

He eventually understood why she was staring at him with such a look. And he froze. Right, by his rules, he loses an article of clothing now. For some reason, this didn’t even occur to him as a possibility—that they’d both be half-naked.

He's already lost his jacket and glasses. All that’s left are his shirt and pants. He picks the prior. Reaching over behind his head, Mammon takes his shirt and, as quickly as he can, yanks it over his head.

“You can quit lookin' at me like that, now.”

She doesn’t. Not even realizing she’s staring; she continues to admire his physique. Only when Mammon goes out of his way to get her attention does she snap out of her daze.

“Next round!” He says as if he’s uttering a decree.

The cards are dealt once again. MC, however, is getting tired. He sure can play for a long while. Having won the last round, she decides to phone it in for the rest, trying only as hard as it takes Mammon not to notice. It helps that she’s not good to begin with.

The next clothing item she tosses is the shirt beneath Mammon’s jacket, still refusing to take it off. She somehow manages it by balancing the jacket on her shoulders as she slips out of the top worn under it. Sure, she could have just taken off the jacket then put it back on when she was done, but it’s more fun this way. Plus, Mammon can't say anything her breaking the rules, so to speak.

Now, all she’s wearing is Mammon’s jacket and the lingerie he picked out. And she wants to show off this fact. She abruptly stands up, which causes the hanging daggers of the brassier to sway as she does so. Holding her arms out while posing, she asks, “Isn’t it cute?”

Mammon takes a moment before answering, soaking in what he’s seeing.

“You’re beautiful.”

MC felt a tinge of heat reach her cheeks. She wasn’t expecting him to respond like that. But she was glad.

She sits back down and comments on how she loves what he picked out. Then, silently thinks to herself how she hopes to wear it again for him.

Mammon, meanwhile, was marveling at how MC looked. Even going so far as to praise himself for his choice of lingerie.

“By the way,” MC begins. “This does beg the question, what about the stockings?” She leans back and to the side, supporting herself with her hands as she swings her legs alternatively up and down.

“Oh, uh,” he searches for the words, a little distracted by her bare legs. Finally finding them, he says, “It seemed like too much.”

“That’s too bad. It would’ve made the outfit even cuter,” she replies minorly disappointed. Then adds with a chuckle, “Plus it would’ve gave me more things to take off. Oh well, there’s always next time.”

“I can see that now! No need to rub—” He processes the last thing MC said. “Wait, for real?!”

MC confirms what she said, ready to laugh again. Well, that confirms he's all up for seeing her like this again.

“Imma hold you to that!” Mammon ecstatically swears. It’ll be even more fun the next time around, especially since the anxieties of this time won’t overwhelm him.

The night continues and MC can’t hide her exhaustion, yawning more and more frequently. She’s been folding more frequently too. Every round, in fact. The only thing she has left to offer is the jacket she’s been cuddling all night, and she’s not going to let it go.

“One more game,” Mammon says. “Then ya can go to bed.” He stipulates, “But no folding! Both of us gotta show our cards.”

“I’m not going to bed until you are,” she replies. “You have to get your full time.” A yawn tries to escape from her mouth as she says this.

Mammon accepts this but insists on having that last round. While she looks adorable, he does want to see how she looks without the covering piece. Plus, there has to be a proper sendoff of the game—folding just won’t do.

“In that case, we can watch a movie or something,” he suggests as he lays down the cards. He puts down all five table cards without delay. There’s no need to go through the whole process. When he lays the last card, he also flips his own, then looks at MC to do the same.

Although coming down to pure luck at this point, she ends up having to finally forego the jacket she’s come to love. She pouts as she removes it, then quickly makes her way over to the couch Mammon is sitting on the far end of. Settling down at a spot where they're almost touching, she goes on to suggest they watch a horror movie.

He’s reluctant to agree to this but relents as he’s too focused on the sudden close proximity between the two.

“I’ve been wanting to watch this certain one,” MC says as she pulls the film onto the TV. She stays on the summary screen to give Mammon the chance to read it and waits for him to give the go-ahead. Mammon, however, seemed to be focusing all his attention on MC, and she has to direct him to look at the screen. After a moment, a sign of confirmation is given, though hesitantly as if he didn't even process what he just read. She starts the movie anyway.

A little ways in, MC begins to shift and leans heavily onto Mammon, holding nothing back as she puts her full weight on him.

“If ya scared, all you gotta do is say so,” he says in reaction. “The Great Mammon will protect ya!” He looks down at who appears to be his new blanket.

She responds with a tired hum. Though she’s not having Mammon’s feigned bravery, she’s too exhausted to fight it. Instead, she continues to just watch the movie through half-closed eyes, propped against his shoulder.

“Hold on a sec.” He lifts her off for a split moment and repositions, his back now being supported by the arm of the couch. He pulls her into his lap, and she ends up laying between his legs with her head on his chest. “It’s more cozy this way, yeah?”

“Makes the jacket the next-best thing,” she answers.

The two continue to watch the movie in silence. During so, Mammon’s arms have been slowly moving from the couch to around MC, getting closer and tighter every time he got scared. He soon was fully encircling her with his head hiding behind as far as he could manage, which wasn’t much considering his position, even with sliding down. This was when he noticed the smell of strawberries.

“Hey, MC,” he spoke low trying to get her attention. There was no response. “Are ya sleepin'?” Again, he was met with silence. He took this opportunity to lightly bury his head into her, absorbing the scent that he adores on her. It had a calming effect, especially after the stress caused by the horror on screen.

“Did’ya wear this for me?” He asks softly to himself. Though the movie was over, he stayed still. He wanted nothing but to continue holding her like he was. There’s a chance he might just fall asleep too.

But he couldn’t. It’s too uncomfortable for that. The position is fine for cuddling yet sleeping like this will only bring pain the next day. And it can’t be much better for her. Not to mention, they don’t even have any blankets, and the pillows that were already on the couch are hardly meant for such use. He ultimately decides to sacrifice the snuggling, over much internal debating, and wakes MC up.

“Time to get up,” Mammon’s voice was loud as he shook her tenderly. He knew all too well if the first attempt didn’t work, he’d have way too much trouble with trying again. “It’s better to sleep inna bed. C'mon.”

MC grumbles at this as she sits up. Without a word, she makes her way over to the bed in his room.

“What're ya doing?” He asks a bit flustered, fully not expecting her actions.

“You said to go to bed,” she replies rather pragmatically. Then adds, “And there’s still time left in your twelve hours.” As she says this, she lifts the covers and climbs into bed. “Unless… you want me to walk all the way back to my own room?” It’s clear she has no plans to do this anyway, as she’s already quite settled in his bed.

Mammon makes no arguments, only an off-hand comment that can be taken as him denying all responsibility in having the idea. Instead, he gets into bed next to her, facing her way.

As soon as she feels his weight, she rolls over to meet him. She asks, “Can I hold you?”

He answers by holding her first. Showing no restraint, he presses his body into hers, his arms fully wrapped around her. He lets out a heavy sigh as he does so.

MC stiffens in surprise by this, but very quickly relaxes into him. Lifting her head off the shoulder she was resting on, she gives him a peck on the cheek as she tells him, “Good Night.”

Stunned by this, Mammon stares at MC, who has taken her position back onto his shoulder. Shifting his gaze to the side, a short moment passes before he says, “If ya gonna kiss me, ya gotta do it right.”

To this, she looks up again and brings her face to his, stopping just before his lips. And she waits, hesitating in front of him as she pauses for consent, her own lips somewhat parted ways in anticipation. She looks from his eyes to his lips then back again, as her way of asking.

Mammon gives his permission by impatiently pressing his lips to hers. His hand supports her head as his avarice takes over, roughly deepening the kiss more and more. To him, no matter how near their bodies, it will never be enough. There will always be some distance to close.

In return, he gets kisses that are sleepy but not effortless. Noting this, and realizing that he’s getting too excited, he pulls away. When he does, he meets MC with eyes brimmed with compassion. But only for a second as he quickly buries her head into his chest, hiding her from the complete redness that is consuming his face. He ends the night by telling her, “Go back to sleep,” as he feels her warm breath against his skin.

As for her, she falls asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, loud and fast.

Although falling asleep later, Mammon was the first one to wake up. He wants every second awake he can get holding the woman he’s come to adore. In fact, even though they repositioned during their slumber, he’s still cradling her. As he lies on his back staring at the ceiling, MC sleeps soundly on his chest. He starts to caress her head, feeling the hair that would tickle him occasionally throughout the night on his fingertips, wishing this won’t end.

Unfortunately, this wakes her up after a while and she moves off his chest, much to his disappointment. So much so, that he pulls her back without delay, saying that he’s not done holding her yet. The Avatar of Greed, indeed.

“Mammon, I have to get up.”

But he doesn’t let go. Rather, he tightens his embrace.

“Mammon…” she sinks into him, not wanting to get up either. But she has to go grocery shopping for dinner. It’s her turn. A fact she relays to him, yet he still won’t budge.

“How ‘bout a good morning kiss?” This got his attention. “But I can’t do it from here.”

He relents to this. Eager for another kiss. His grip loosens, allowing MC to position herself in front of him. He props her chin up and runs his thumb over her bottom lip before he goes in. It’s softer this time, slower with deliberate motions. He wants the feel of her lips committed to memory.

Her kisses in answer are the same. In contrast to the tired grazes of yesterday, her touch now is very much alive.

Mammon stops first, distancing himself just enough to where their lips barely touch. Tentatively, he asks, “This… this makes up for last night, yeah?” His lips brush against hers with each word.

MC doesn't want to talk, but they're too close to just silently ask. She opts for a quick, “What do you mean?”

“I wanted our first kiss to-” he stops midsentence, a little bashful by the words. He rephrases, “I wanted to be gentler. But I couldn’t hold myself back once I felt your lips.”

“I didn’t mind at all,” she reassures as she smoothly rubs her nose on his. Afterwards, she furthers the distance for a better look at him as she says, “In fact, I like it when you’re assertive.”

“Don’t say such weird stuff all of a sudden!” An embarrassed expression appears on his face. “Geeze, it’s kinda scary when you act so sweet.” He thinks for a moment until he decides to tell her, “But, you could do more of that…you know, if ya wanted.”

MC feels as though she needs to put his mind to ease. “I like you, Mammon.” She’s sure to enunciate this, clearly saying his name so there’s no doubt about who she’s talking about.

He’s at a loss for words at this point, stunned. A smile soon creeps on his face and the words he finally comes up are filled with self-praise. “Of course ya do!” Secretly though, he’s relieved by what she said. The affirmation of her feelings fills him with confidence.

The conversation continues with MC reiterating that she, unfortunately, needs to go out for groceries. She furthers the argument by reminding him that his twelve hours are up.

A demand for one more kiss is his response, which she gladly indulges. He steadies her with his hands once more, as if it’s a need to feel her body while they kiss. It’s more fervent this time around after hearing her confession; his emotions seemingly exploding into her lips.

The first to pull away this time was MC, sensing that Mammon would never stop. She can’t leave if the kiss never ends, right? Looking at him, she can see he’s visibly disappointed with his eyes still closed.

When he opens them, it’s only slightly and he’s sure to not meet her eyes. If he sees her, it’ll only cause him to try to make her stay again. Instead, he rushes her along. “Just hurry up so you can get back, will ya?”

MC slips back on the clothes from the night before. Stopping short of the door, she turns to face him once more and pauses, pondering on whether she should express the idea on her mind. Ultimately, she chooses to tease him with the one other reason she had prepared to use against him.

“You know,” she gets his attention. “I was gonna entice you with some of my homemade ramen.” The jestful smile on her face cannot be hidden, no matter the amount of lip biting. “But looks like I don’t have to now.”

The speed at which Mammon disregards his previous determination to not look at MC is unimaginable. In fact, he completely abandons the notion to let her go. He hops out of bed almost as swiftly as his stare and bounds for the troublemaker. Reaching her before she can get away, he wraps his arms around her and brings her into a tight embrace of no escape. He’s back to preventing her from leaving. Not until she promises to make his ramen.

In between fits of giggles, MC manages to spill that she planned on doing that anyway. When she gets let go, she gives Mammon one last playful look before she sets off to buy the ingredients of his favorite dish of hers.

#obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #the lingerie game

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weirdthinkingdragon · 3 years

Text

Welcome To The Family (5/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / here

Had no idea how to connect with Aizawa. Hopefully, this works. Sorry about my hyperfixation on this.

Warnings- some swearing

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

I get ready for yet another day of babysitting Eri. Thinking back on the festival yesterday, the uncomfortable feeling between the two men is something I’d rather not experience again if possible. They’re together as well, so why did Hizashi put me between them? I could have sat on the other side of him if he wanted me beside him so bad. Don’t think Aizawa was too happy about it either with the narrow look he gave me, now that I think about it. It’s best to try to avoid those situations in the future.

While in my mind, I didn’t notice my friend in front of me and bumped into them. Ryo doesn’t look too good. They have bigger eyebags than I’ve ever seen and are frowning with their arms crossed. “Glad to catch you. I stayed up all night waiting for you.”

“Ryo, whatever it is, you could have just texted or called me.”

They frown deeper. “I’ve been trying to stay happy for you, I really have. I and a few of the others really miss you hanging out with us. We’ll even blast your favorite song the whole day and night. Just… Please join us for a whole day once again.”

I knew what they were getting at. Damn it, guilt is really starting to rise in me. I desperately want to hang out with them, but that stupid dinner I’m pretty much forced to go to this Sunday… Ugh, why couldn’t they wait until next Sunday!? “I’m sorry, Ryo, but they want me to babysit the kids again this Sunday. I told them I’m not available next Sunday though! We can hang out then!”

Their frown goes deeper than ever seen by me. “Come on, Y/N! We haven’t had a day to hang out properly in like, what? Months? Every time you return you’re too tired to join us. Those damn kids can go ONE. DAY. without you taking care of them. Don’t you think you’ve done enough for them yet!? The only day we had was Sunday, but for the last few you’ve been stuck with them AGAIN. For how much you take care of them, the adults shouldn’t even HAVE them!”

I nearly snapped at them for the last thing they said. They seem angry though, so I try to not let it get to me too much, or it could end badly for both of us.

It’s easy to tell they all care for each other, and taking one of them away from their little family would be greatly unethical. What also holds me back is remembering Ryo doesn’t know the story of the kids, or that the adults are heroes and teachers. Man, I wish I could tell them. Surprised they haven’t made the connection themselves yet of at least figuring out they’re teachers. “Their jobs are highly demanding. Trust me, they’d much rather be with their kids if they could. I’ve seen how they act towards them.”

“That doesn’t mean shit. For all you know, it could just be a front!”

I shake my head. “Don’t think so. Pretty sure one of them would be incredibly bad at acting.”

They glare at me. “Whatever you think.” They then storm off, leaving more guilt to eat away at me. Ugh, I feel like crying out of frustration.

The mold-quirked male comes up to me when Ryo leaves. “Sorry about them. They’re kinda in a bad spot with the police right now. They got a little too drunk and spat at an officer yesterday.”

“Again? I thought they learned their lesson last time from me scolding them.”

“Sadly, no. I think they’re losing control since their impulse control is gone.”

Now I’m more annoyed than guilt-ridden. Ryo is a few years older than me. They shouldn’t be such a child about it and need my help when they decide to drink too much. “Thanks for informing me, uh… sorry, I don’t think you ever told me your name.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Right! Just call me by my first name, Tadao.”

First name basis off the bat is a little weird, but he says it, so sure. “Right! Tadao, Can you keep an eye on them for me still? I’m still rather busy as you might have noticed.”

He nods. “I can do that. Just do me a favor, and try to take it easy for yourself one of these days. You seem a little worn out yourself recently.”

I shrug. “It’s more of what’s happened lately, and what’s on my mind I think.”

He seems unsure about my answer if anything about his dark brown eyes is to go by. He just nods again though and goes to follow Ryo.

I push what just happened to the back of my mind and head towards their home again. After the Ferris Wheel yesterday, Hizashi gave me a key and told me to use it to enter their house from now on since they might be too busy to answer the door. They haven’t had trouble answering the door before, but I’ve learned by now to not question Hizashi’s sporadic way of mind. It doesn’t ease the discomfort that I feel like I’m intruding by randomly entering their house though.

I unlock the door and enter to see a rather concerned Eri hugging the new stuffed animal with the dog and the bunny. “Hey, Eri. What’s wrong?”

It looks like she’s torn from being happy to see me, to having great worry. “Dad’s sick.”

Aizawa’s sick? He was just fine yesterday. I think she calls Aizawa “dad” and Hizashi “daddy” if I’ve noticed correctly. Sometimes it’s really confusing having same-sex parents and trying to know which they’re referring to. “Is Aizawa okay?” I ask, just to be sure it’s the right one.

She nods.

Hitoshi comes into the living room. “He’ll be fine. It was a quirked villain from the ambush yesterday. It’s not contagious, but he’s not allowed to go to the school for twenty-four hours. The principal said he’d have the other teachers kick him out if he enters the school. Even Recovery Girl and no one wants to deal with her wrath.”

“Recovery… Girl?”

He looks like he wants to slap himself. “Right. Uh… She’s the healer after our fights basically.”

“The name makes sense then.”

He nods. “In his shape, he can’t take care of Eri though, so we didn’t tell you to not come.”

“Sounds good,” I smirk, though internally I’m cringing at the thought of being alone with the quiet man. “So, you guys want me to check in on him a few times today as well I’m guessing?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “If you wouldn’t mind, that is. It’s obviously not something you’re hired for.”

I shrug. “It should be fine. I don’t think he’ll be very demanding of me doing things for him if I know him well enough by now.”

Hitoshi smirks in reply to me. “He’s too stubborn to even take cough medicine.”

“I didn’t expect anything different.” Seems rather childish though for a full-grown man. Not like I’d ever say that to his face though.

Hizashi comes out of what must be their bedroom and sees me. “Heya, little lovesong! Did these two fill ya in already?”

Love… song? What’s with the sudden nickname? He always seems to call people “listeners” or whatever, so maybe it’s just a more friendly type of thing?

He also makes his arms go outstretched and looks at me expectantly. He wants me to hug him? Again, this is really sudden.

Screw it, it won’t hurt anything, right? It’s just a hug. I hug him.

He squeezes a little too tightly and wouldn’t let me go for an almost awkward amount of time, even when I try to pull away.

I pat his back to try to get him to let go. “That’s long enough I think. You might want to go before you and Hitoshi are late for school.”

He lets go. “Right! C’mon, little Hypno-man!”

“Little? I’m almost as tall as you.”

“But you’re not yet!” He shouts as he bolts out the door. Hitoshi quickly goes after him. It just leaves a silence between Eri and me. I shake my head at their antics and look at Eri. “Do you think they even left him a glass of water or something before taking off?”

“Daddy gave him water before. A long time ago.”

A long time ago probably means a few hours at most. I sigh. Better check on him then. I go towards the door of their bedroom and knock on it. He doesn’t answer. Oh well, he must not need anything that badly. No, I’m not just trying to stay away from him as much as possible.

I go to walk away, but Eri gently grabs my hand and leads me back to the bedroom door.

“Why do you keep staying away from dad?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to play dumb. She doesn’t need to know about adult things yet, such as not everyone will like someone. That should be their job to teach her. “Toshi and daddy notice you avoid him. He’s not mean though!”

Do I really have to tell her? Her questioning eyes are begging me to answer.

“It’s just… I don’t think your dad likes me very much. There will always be people who don’t like a person for one reason or another. I don’t know why your dad doesn’t like me, but I respect his decision and want to let him keep his space.”

“But dad doesn’t hate you!” She huffs.

That's a surprise to me. “Unless he tells me otherwise, I’m going to keep believing he does. And honestly, your dad kinda scares me.”

She looks away. “He can be kinda mean sometimes,” she looks back at me. “But he really cares for people!”

A part of me doubts it, but another part can kind of see it, especially with how he acts with Eri and Hitoshi.

I decided to try changing the topic. “I’ll check him in a bit. He probably doesn’t want to be bothered right now. Let’s go play with your stuffed animals for now.” I try to walk away again.

Yet again, she grabs my hand and drags me to the door. She opens it without knocking and makes me enter as well. I noticed the rather large bed before anything. It couldn’t have been a king. Definitely something bigger than that. It has a light red and black blanket covering the whole bed, including the paler-than-usual man under it. His eyes are open and looking at us, but surprisingly, he’s not glaring. I thought he would be from an interrupted entry…

I notice the empty glass on the nightstand next to him. “I’ll get you more water.” I then grab the glass and go to the kitchen. Eri stayed in the bedroom. While filling the glass, one of the cats rubs their head against my leg. The white eyebrows make me know who it is instantly. “Hey, Oreo! Why don’t you come to help your dad?” I ask him and shut off the sink after the glass is nearly full.

I pick him up with my free arm and carry them back into the bedroom. He immediately jumps out of my arms and goes onto the bed. Aizawa almost seems to grow a weak smile at the sight of the cat. I set the glass down back on the nightstand.

“Thanks.” He rasps, catching my surprise. I really wasn’t expecting him to thank me for it. He didn’t strike me as the type. He drinks some of it.

It’s quiet between us, and I want to do nothing but leave him be before the awkwardness gets worse. Plus, he needs all the rest he can get to heal faster. Or is the quirk he was struck with a time-based thing regardless?

Eri suddenly gets up from sitting on the floor and tugs me so she could whisper in my ear. “Talk to him!”

“I don’t think he…” I lock eyes with Aizawa who is surprisingly still not asleep and sigh. I have no idea what to talk to him about. What do you talk about to someone who has hardly ever said a word to you?

I then remember the explosive kid and nearly being hit. It’s worth a shot bringing him up I guess. “Had a close call with one of your students yesterday. Don’t know his name, but he nearly blew up my face if Midoriya wasn’t there.”

Despite his state, his eyes widen a sufficient amount.

“Toshi isn’t happy with him.” Eri pipes up with her arms crossed.

“No harm was done though, right? At least he didn’t hit me,” I shiver remembering his expression. “I’d rather not be in the line of his wrath again though. It’s terrifying to the point I almost feel bad for anything he goes against.”

“Bakugou.” He’s able to hiss it with annoyance. Okay, glad he doesn’t seem annoyed with me the same way he is with that kid.

Bakugou? Isn’t that one of the kids Midoriya told me causes the most problems in his class? “So he must be one of the kids you like to call “problem children”. Midoriya told me you call him that as well. Don’t know how he’s one, but I know if you call him that, you have a really good reason, so I’m not going to comment on it.”

“You seem rather… connected with Midoriya.” He says “connected” like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Oh yeah! He’s a good kid. He comes around frequently with Togata,” His eyes narrow and my fond mention of Togata. He better not be getting the wrong idea, I don’t see either of them that way for obvious reasons. “It’s so great they’re able to wear dresses so comfortably. Well, Midoriya is still a bit uncomfortable, but we’ve been working on his self-esteem with Togata. I also still have to thank him for saving me from the Bakugou kid. I don’t think that could be fixed with him though from the feral energy he gives off.”

“Still have to-” he coughs. “Work on that then. He won’t be able to get anywhere if he keeps nearly injuring innocents.”

I smile at him. “I wish you the most luck with him then. You’re definitely going to need it.”

He replies with a slight nod and closes his eyes. Oreo climbs onto Aizawa’s chest and starts purring. He brings one of his arms out of the covers and pets Oreo. The cat’s purring gets louder in appreciation.

Eri lights up. “I’ll go get Mochi and Sundae!” She bolts out of the room. No! Come ba- and she’s gone.

For one stupid reason or another, I feel like confiding with him right now.

“You know, I hate to admit it, but I’m rather envious of you,” He quirks an eye open to look at me. “You have such a lovely family and a significant other that greatly cares about you. I can only hope to have a relationship like you and Hizashi in the future. It’s going to be so strange when I leave your family.”

His other eye opens to fully look at me. His eyes flash some sort of emotion I can’t read. Maybe I overstepped a boundary or said too much about myself? Shit…

“Uh… Sorry about that, Aizawa. That’s probably something stupid to go off about or to bother you with...”

“Shouta.”

“Huh?” I question, just to be sure I was correct in hearing him.

“Shouta. It’s-” he coughs again. “illogical for me to be the only one not called by my first name,” He looks at Oreo, then back at me. “You’re a part of our family. Even Oreo likes you. Sometimes not even I can pick him up.”

“A part of?... No, you’re thinking too much into it. I’m just a sitter that likes taking care of Hitoshi and Eri.”

He slightly shakes his head. “Same thing with Hitoshi. He’s never let anyone but us call him his first name. You’re different.”

I’m having a hard time accepting I’m special in any way. They must just be slightly delusional or something from having multiple bad sitters before. “I’m sure if you got a sitter similar to me, he’d have done the same thing with them.”

“Doubtful. For one, you’re the first that’s not us to not fear Hitoshi for his-” he coughs yet again. “quirk.”

Maybe I should make him stop talking so he can rest before more damage can possibly be done to his throat.

“I found Mochi!” Eri yells from somewhere outside of the room. She enters the bedroom, waddling like she did before with Mochi in her arms. He’s nearly being dragged on the floor, but only seems uninterested in helping her move. She seems to be having a slightly easier time than before carrying him. Not sure if he’s lost some weight, or if she’s gotten stronger. Maybe even both.

I laugh and go over to her to help her carry him. He’s still rather heavy. Heavy enough to cause a rather large dip in the bed when we place him on it. We place him down by Shouta’s feet. He doesn’t even move. Just flops onto his belly where he’s placed. I go over back by Shouta’s side, since that’s closer to the exit of the bedroom. I still feel like I’m intruding in their bedroom.

She immediately takes off again out of the room.

“Eri! I don’t think-” I’m interrupted by Shouta gently grabbing my hand. His hand is rather rough- probably calloused- and rather clammy. Most likely from him being ill. Uh… This is weird.

“It’s fine. The cats are a good distraction,” He lets it go before I can try to pull away. “That’s another thing. Even Eri bonded with you rather quickly. I’ve never seen her so happy to see someone besides us or Midoriya and Togata.”

I shrug. “It’s the previous sitters’ faults for not caring for her. She’s beyond adorable, and I honestly had the thought if something were to happen to her, I’d kill everyone in the room, then myself on my first day.”

He exhales his breath, almost like a chuckle. “Zashi says the same about you.”

I have no idea what to say to that. Oh! He must mean Hizashi would do the same thing for Eri, his mind is just mixed up on his words from his illness. Sounds a lot more logical than someone admitting they really like an adult they just met back then.

Eri comes in with the last and final cat, Sundae. He seems a little more uninterested in being in here than the other two. At least until Eri places him on the bed, and he sees the other two. He jumps onto Shouta’s stomach and tries to push Oreo off to take his spot on Shouta’s chest.

I can’t help but laugh. “You need a little help there?”

He grows the tiniest smile again. “No.” He pulls out his other arm from under the blanket and uses it to pet the other cat as well. That seems to do the trick as he stops trying to push Oreo off.

He coughs yet again. I feel rather bad he has to deal with it. “Would you like some tea maybe? It’s not cough medicine, but it might help your cough a bit more than the water is.”

He turns his head back towards us. His eyes again showing that unreadable emotion. “That's another thing. You’re caring. You’ve respected us the most. You didn’t even try pushing me to tolerate your presence, just accepted it.” Okay, that’s enough talking from you, you need to rest more. I swear, if he’s the type that suddenly has the urge to clean the house when sick… I’d do absolutely nothing. I obviously can’t do much against a man with years of grueling training, even when he’s sick. Might have Eri help me scold him though.

“I’ll get the tea. And do us both a favor, stop talking for now. It’s honestly great hearing you talk more for once, but now is really not the best time.”

“No promises.”

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

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, other than checking up on him a few other times. With how frequently he talked, I started to wonder if he and Hizashi somehow swapped minds. He must be one of those odd people who seem to be more talkative when sick, as clearly found out.

Leaving their house, my body freezes at the familiar feeling of being watched. For a moment, I wonder about going back into their house and asking them to bring me to my home. No, I can’t do that to them. They've already had a long day.

… At least, that’s how I felt at first. But the farther I walked, the more I wished I did. Fuck, the feeling won’t. Leave. Taking out my phone, Hitoshi is the first one to come up in my contacts.

“Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you around here. Heading home, huh?” Asked a familiar voice behind me. That feeling was still around, but just knowing Tadao was with me helped. I turn to face him. His hair was… Glowing green? It made him look like a glowstick, and made me wonder how I’ve never seen his hair do this before. Never met him in the dark though.

He laughs at my expression. “Mold isn’t the only thing my body can absorb. It can also do the same with fungus. Found out years ago I can make my hair glow from the bioluminescent fungus. Cool, huh?”

I smile at him. “Definitely! But you know I now have to call you glowstick, right?”

He groans. “Man, was really hoping to escape that, but I guess it’s deserved, huh?”

“It really is your fault if you don’t naturally have it.”

Because of his glowing hair, it was easy to tell he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, wanna walk with me back to the apartments? Just got off of work myself today.”

“Well, it would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Yep.”

We start walking.

“How’s Ryo holding up?”

He sighs. “Not well. Really starting to question their mental state. They told me this morning they don’t even want to talk to you for a few days.”

My face quickly becomes a frown. “Seriously? They’re going to act like this now?”

He shrugs. “Try not to let it get to you. We both know they can be overdramatic at times.”

I sigh. “I hate that you’re right.”

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

Tag list-

@angelicblackwolf

here ya go. hopefully it works!

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead

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harrysweasleys · 3 years

Text

a little sunshine never hurt // d.m

Summary: hi alexa!!! if your requests are still open, could i request a draco x reader fic? in it’s the first day of holidays/vacation and the reader and draco are best friends who (obviously) have feelings for the other but think the other doesn’t like them that way, and they’re having a picnic at malfoy manor, relaxing in the sun reading or doing homework and draco just blurts it and confession + kiss?? if you can’t there’s no problem! thanks 🥰💓

Warnings: mentions of food! also v v short but v v sweet (also not proofread/edited so pls dont come @ me)

Word count: 1.9k

a/n: yikes, so completely ignore my message about not posing a fic before christmas because here i am, posting another fic before christmas. hope you all enjoy!!! xx [I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT OR PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM!]

— —

Ah, finally summer break.

The start of the holidays meant that you’d now have a good months time to catch up on rest, relaxation, and obviously, assignments. Though you usually disliked the prospect of doing homework while on vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little thankful at the fact that you now had something to keep your mind laced on magic while you were away from Hogwarts.

Though you were staying with Draco for the first two weeks — where magic was very much present — you still liked to learn. You liked to keep that ever-growing passion for the magical arts, and you were most likely going to finish every single project within the first week of the break.

Draco, however, had different thoughts.

“Bloody ridiculous,” he scoffed, raising his hand to move his blond bangs out of his face, “Giving out homework while we’re on break? What kind of git does that?”

“Those are your professors, Draco,” you grinned, turning to face him, squinting slightly in the blinding sunlight, “Have a little respect, yeah?”

He rolled his eyes, laying back down on the freshly mowed lawn, his dark clothing most likely scorching his skin under the blazing afternoon sun, “Is giving out homework a show of respect? I don’t think so.”

You leaned up on your elbows, a fresh summer breeze rolling through and pushing your hair over your shoulder. It wasn’t necessarily a cold breeze, but it did cause you to let out a small shiver. Draco’s eyes followed you as you sat up properly, crossing you legs and reaching into the tiny basket that carried your snacks.

He had asked you to share a picnic lunch with him today, which came as a bit of an odd question, to be honest. A picnic? You knew Draco wasn’t the kind of person to ‘enjoy the fresh air’ so it was a little bit of a strange request coming from him, to be honest. But there was no bloody way you’d complain. An outdoor lunch with him meant that you got to spend more time one on one — it meant that you’d get to continue seeing the side of him that he chose not to show anyone else.

He was quite a complex fellow, if you were to be honest. In school, he closed himself off. He hid away from the world and kept his cold exterior up, not daring to let anyone in. You had gotten through to him — after trying for multiple years, of course — but there really was nothing better than seeing him as relaxed as he was when he was home. Maybe ‘relaxed’ isn’t the proper term; but he did have a totally different air. Less arrogant, less obnoxious, and definitely less pompous.

It didn’t help your ever-blossoming crush in the slightest.

“Can you toss me an apple?” he asked, now mimicking your position and crossing his legs as well. His knee brushed against yours, and even though you were both clothed, you felt a jolt of sparks rush through your body.

You let out a small cough to clear your throat, “Sure.”

Completely forgetting whatever it was that you were looking for in the first place, you tossed him the bright green apple that he had insisted on bringing to lunch. You were surprised that the Malfoy family didn’t decide to grow their own apple trees, to be honest, with how often Draco would scavenge the pantries for the perfect one to eat, they’d most likely be better off by growing some in their own vast yard.

“What are your plans for the summer, then?” he asked, taking a big bite, crunching loudly and closing his eyes as he craned his head up to look at the sky.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, his defined jawline and smooth neck looking sharper than ever under the bright sunlight, casting shadows around the base of his neck. His platinum hair hurt your eyes to look at, but even then, you’d love nothing more than to run your hands through it. While he rested his head on your lap, while you made out in bed, while you —

“Are you ignoring me?” he snapped your attention back to reality with the low chuckle in his throat.

“No. No, sorry, just got caught in a daydream,” you turned away from him, hiding the growing redness on your cheeks before trying your best to play it off, “I don’t really have plans for the remainder of summer, honestly. Just taking it one day at a time.”

You laid back down on the grass next to him, resting your arm at your side and brushing your fingers against Draco’s. Your heart jolted and you tried to quickly pull your hand away, but you felt his finger twitch against your skin, his pinky finger locking with yours.

It was as if you totally forgot to breathe.

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said softly, placing the unfinished apple down on top of the closed basket, giving you his undivided attention, “I’m gonna miss you when you leave.”

You could hardly think straight, but you couldn’t give in to his charm that easily. He’d only tease you for the rest of the break, wouldn’t he? But, it was hard not to give in. His finger was awfully soft locked with yours, and you could feel both the heat from his body next to you, on top of your own body temperature spiking. It was way too warm to be in the sunshine.

“I’m happy to be here, too,” you replied, voice awfully quiet. You were almost sure he didn’t hear you, but the way that his hand gave yours a little squeeze, you knew that he did.

You two were often on the same page, it was rare he didn’t know exactly how you were feeling. And it was rare that you didn’t know exactly how he was feeling. Right now was one of those rare moments. You couldn’t tell if he was honestly just pleased to have you here — mostly to help him deal with his pain in the ass father — or if this was something more. More than friendship, more than just... platonic. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling and it was driving you absolutely bonkers.

How could you even begin to ask him? Could you even ask? How would that go?

“Hey, Draco, I think I like you.” Pathetic, really. What a way to embarrass yourself.

You felt his hand give yours another squeeze, “You alright?”

Turning to face him, you thought that it was now or never. When would you get another moment of privacy with him like this? Where you could tell him the truth without the possibility of being overheard?

To weight the pros and cons; if he felt the same, you guys could get the next little while together before going your separate ways for the remainder of the holidays. But if he didn’t, you’d have to deal with the brutal awkwardness of spending the next ten days with him, knowing that your feelings were one sided. Then, you’d have to see him again once returned to school. It wasn’t a very balanced list, in your opinion.

“I’m fine,” you turned to face him, forcing a small smile.

As mentioned before, Draco could always tell how you were feeling. Which is why he pulled his hand from yours, turning over on his side to look at you. With furrowed eyebrows and concerned written across his features, you wanted nothing more than to peel your eyes away from him and completely ignore his gaze. But that was nearly impossible. It’s hard to look away from Draco Malfoy.

“Something tells me you’re lying,” he said softly, eyes scanning your face as if he could read your emotions written into your skin — as if the light freckles dotting your cheeks could give him the answers he was looking for.

You sucked in a deep breath, feeling the expansion of your lungs in your chest — it felt as if you were going to crush your heart any second now. Quite an unpleasant feeling, really.

“I’m not lying,” you said, voice cracking as you spoke. The worst possible lie. There was no way he’d believe that.

He scoffed lightly, “So you’re just going to ignore your feelings then, yeah?”

It was now your turn to sit up, leaning against one of your elbows as you turned your body to face him. His cheeks were tinted with a pale shade of pink, most likely from the burning sun. It was a rather warm afternoon for summer in England.

“What feelings?” you asked, averting your eyes, choosing to stare at an ant crawling slowly up a blade of grass. Not fascinating, but better than giving in to Draco.

“Y/N,” one of his hands reached over and touched your chin, lightly tilting it so you could turn your head up and face him, “I asked you to a picnic today so we could be alone, you know?”

You finally looked over to him, eyes scanning from the base of his throat, slowly up to meet his eyes, “Why?”

“Well, I thought I was being bloody obvious,” he grinned, “I like being alone with you.”

“But why?” you sounded like a child

His laugh was taunting you — effortless and relaxed. Completely juxtaposed to the raging storm of emotions going through your heart and head. How he could say something like that; so heavy and heartfelt, to acting like it was nothing, you could never understand.

“Because,” he scooted closer, his hand leaving your chin, but coming to rest atop of yours, “I don’t know how much clearer I can make this, but I like you.”

You looked over at him, eyes wide and mouth gaped open like a fish. You must look like a bloody idiot, but there was really no other way to respond to that. He liked you back. All this time, he liked you back. And you genuinely had no idea.

There were really no words you could say in response, so you decided on showing him how you felt instead, placing your hand at the back of his neck and bringing his lips to yours. They were incredibly warm — possibly from the sun — and soft. Softer than the grass beneath your skin, and sweeter than the chocolates melting in the basket by your feet. He tasted like mint and green apple, a mixture that felt odd when spoken, but tasted like heaven when experienced.

You felt him mumble against your lips, “I’ll take it you feel the same way?”

Pulling away to let out a small laugh, you nodded your head, “If it wasn’t obvious, yes.”

“Just making sure,” he gave you a lopsided grin, his hand cupping your cheek to connect his lips to yours once again.

— — —

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@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @theweirdsideofstuff @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @starlightweasley @mytreec @thisismysketchbook @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @ickle-ronniekins @beiahadid @mymessedupbrain49

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots

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niennavalier · 3 years

Text

AC: Rogue - Second Chances

Summary: He's not an Assassin anymore - Shay has no doubts about that. He's less sure where that leaves him in the world, or in the context of this centuries-long war between Assassins and Templars. But when he's presented with a second chance - from a Templar, no less - he has to question all that he's done in the past. And all that he'll do in the future.

Character study set during AC: Rogue Sequence 3-1 "The Color of Right".

(Also posted on AO3)

*****

Shay isn’t sure what he’d been expecting. There’s little he remembers of the moment after being shot, aside from perhaps accepting his fate, knowing that, at the very least, he’d stopped the Assassins from leveling more cities. But he hadn’t expected to wake up at all, much less in a comfortable home and cared for by a kindly couple.

He’d not thought that he could be surprised by much else, but then Mrs. Finnegan - Cassidy - had handed him some clothing, and now, dressing himself, he can’t help but think.

They were our son's . Those words - they keep circling through his head as he readjusts the coat, finishes tightening his belt. Because he can't keep the thought from his mind.

The Finnegans' son - he'd been a Templar.

He'd not wanted to believe it at first, seeing the crosses at his shoulders, telling himself it was something else, something he'd seen elsewhere. It wasn't the Templar cross, and the couple who'd taken him in and cared for him as their own - they weren't Templars. They weren’t the same people he’d spent years fighting.

But pulling the strap for his rifle over his shoulder, the other cross settling on top of his heart, it’s not something he can deny. Somehow, he’s certain of it; whether the Finnegans are Templars themselves, their son had been.

And now he’s wearing the lad’s clothes. It’s something that makes him all the more aware of the hidden blades at his wrists - nothing feels quite right about any of this. Not that he can do much about it.

Sighing and shaking the thoughts from his head for now, he takes the time to tie his hair away from his face and happens to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Looking as he does, he has no doubt his younger self would've thought him a Templar himself, some fanatic obsessed with order. With his weapons returned, he looks every bit a man ready to fight for all that he’d once fought against . Though it's not like he has much choice; he doubts his old clothes had survived the ordeal.

He's not mourning their loss, though. It's a sudden realization, and one he wasn’t expecting to have, but he hadn't been eager to don the hood again. And he still isn't, perhaps would never be. Stranger still, it's not a thought he can bring himself to regret.

Wearing the uniform of the people he’d called enemies is unsettling, but as his last memories of the Homestead flash through his mind - all those he’d called friends, called family , suddenly turned against him - he’s certain that wearing his own robes would’ve been worse.

As he steps back into the main room, though, it’s like none of that even matters. The way Cassidy’s eyes light up - “Oh, well don’t you look a right gentleman!” - it fills him with something warm that he can’t remember when he last felt. Warmth. Family. Feeling like he doesn’t have to work to earn affection, the way he suspects it feels to have parents, despite never properly knowing his own.

Perhaps it shouldn’t feel as novel as it does, but he can’t help freezing on the spot. How is he meant to respond to that?

So he doesn't respond, at least, not directly. He asks about the Manuscript - lost, apparently, and some mix of relief and anger flares in his chest. Good, better that no one can get their hands on the damned thing. Good-hearted folk like these - they wouldn't be caught in the crossfire ever again. He'd see to that.

***

He's not expecting it when a man approaches him from behind, the cross on his sash - a Templar cross, it must be - the first and only thing Shay sees. His hand is reaching back for his pistols before he even realizes it - trust isn't something he's keen on having in spades for now.

"Be at ease, Master Cormac, we are friends.” Doubtful. But the man does know his name, somehow, even if Shay can’t guess why. Does he also know -? He must. This dance they’re doing - it’s too familiar. Both of them know what the other is (or rather, was , Shay supposes). He’d have to tread carefully; he has no idea what this Templar wants with him. “The Finnegans were worried you might take matters into your own hands. I am Colonel George Monro.”

Shay nods, the safest thing he can think to do. “Colonel.” The Finnegans, he’s willing to trust, and the Colonel knowing them might have meant something had their son not also been a Templar. As it stands, the connection means little.

“I came to help, but it seems I am late. Thank you for dealing with these foul criminals.” He eyes the gang leader (the Assassin-trained gang leader) Shay had killed just minutes earlier. “They were a blight on New York.”

The words are quick to rub him wrong. “What do you care?” For all Shay might agree about the gangs, he’d yet to meet a British officer who gave a damn about the colonists. Much less one who was a Templar, besides. “You Redcoats are nothing but landlords. The townsfolk here are grinding away, trying to make a living.” And for what, really?

“I cannot blame you for having that impression.” Of course he can’t. It’s true, and Shay had seen it himself. The restrictions keeping merchants from trading as they pleased, the dangers and hardships braved by the colonists only for their earnings to line the pockets of the Crown. It’s the truth, not just an impression. “Some of my comrades have been less than helpful. But I take a different approach.”

“And what is that?” The words are bitter on his tongue.

“I care. I want to see these colonists safe and prosperous.” Years of training are screaming in his head not to trust this man. That he's just another Templar snake who's willing to say anything if it gets him his way. There's no way for Shay to know if he means any of the things coming out of his mouth.

"Noble words." But were any of them true? He’d naively thought others as righteous as the Colonel made himself out to be, and they’d all proven otherwise.

"Perhaps actions will convince you otherwise, Master Cormac." The Colonel gestures for him to lead the way, and he hesitates for a moment - it's a trick, it has to be - before thinking deeper on it. Betrayal still lingers in his mind, learning that the people he’d called his family cared more about ancient artifacts than they did him, or the thousands of innocent lives on the line. He knows now that they must have lied to him all along, and, really, were they all that different from the Templars? Now, he’s not an Assassin anymore, and that’s not enough to change any of what he believes about the Templars, but it’s enough to make him think.

Perhaps he could hear the Colonel out, if nothing else. At worst, his beliefs would be confirmed yet again. At best…

He's not ready yet to think there can be a better outcome.

***

“You can do great things for this city and its citizens. After all, a man needs purpose.” Those are the last words he hears from the Colonel before the man takes his leave, and they cut into him deeper than he'd like to admit. Though it's not for a bad reason of any sort. The way he explains himself - Shay can't help but feel like he can trust him. Perhaps because it sounds like the Colonel trusts him in return, despite having never met, and the two of them having stood on opposite sides. There's more than a chance that it should worry him, but instead it makes him think of something else - the orders and harsh reprimands from the Assassins. He'd known none of them (save maybe Liam) had ever really trusted him or his skills, but he'd not thought that much of it at the time. Assumed it was normal, being that he'd been the newest one there, but now, the way the Colonel was talking to him, he's starting to rethink that. Perhaps starting to resent that, too, whether he likes it or not.

It’s a selfish reason to make any kind of decision, and he knows as much, refreshing as all of it might feel. It’s not something he’d act on alone - he’s already seen what blind faith and desperation can do, and who can pay the price of death and destruction as a result. Lisbon flashes through his mind, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday. Screams of pain and terror still ring in his ears as smoke and sulfur make his eyes and nose sting, heat from the flames burning his cheeks. His rib smarts, and for a moment, he thinks it’s from tumbling through a crumbling building, crashing against walls and floors and furniture, not from falling off a cliff at the Homestead.

He forces himself to breathe and shakes the memories from his mind. That’s what he can’t let happen again. That’s what he has to make right, no matter what it takes.

And so he can't help but feel drawn in by all the things Colonel Monro said, about just doing right by the people. Making their lives better, not through freedom or control - not through the Assassins or Templars - but just by helping where they can.

As badly as he wants to remain skeptical, he can’t find a problem in that, at least.

But he still stands and watches for some time after that, wanting to see for himself. He stays along the sidelines as the citizens of New York wander by, their eyes turning bright as they hear that the old building is to be restored. From their conversations, he learns that the place had once been a church, left to disrepair now with the threat of war hanging over them. And seeing it ready to be restored - it visibly fills them with hope, and that lights something warm in his chest. Something that he's not sure when he felt last.

It reminds him of the way he’d felt when he’d first joined the Assassins, hopeful, and like he was finally sure of what he was doing. But he’d been a fool, then - he knows that, now - and hadn’t known that he’d hurt far more people than he’d help.

He can't say where he stands when it comes to the Assassins and Templars, to the endless war he'd fought in without ever really understanding it, but he's always trusted himself to know what's right. And this - seeing the lives of normal, everyday folk made easier - he can feel is right.

And for now, perhaps that would be enough.

He can accept that much, and knows he should head back to the Finnegans - all else aside, he trusts them. But as he winds through the familiar streets of his home, he can't help but think on the Colonel's offer. The man may be a Templar, but what he's offering - this way to just help people - it feels like a second chance. Like a way to start atoning for all the lives lost in Lisbon. Exactly what the Assassins wouldn't allow him to do.

Perhaps… perhaps this is the way forward. He may not be fully ready to trust the man yet, for all that he seems honorable, but doing some good for the people of the city, protecting them against those who would do them harm - that much, he would do.

#ac rogue #assassins creed #assassins creed rogue #shay cormac #shay patrick cormac #i have Thoughts when it comes to Shay and his development and all that good stuff #but also #best boy needs a HUG #my writing #my fic #my fanfic

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megan-is-mia · 3 years

Note

can I request a delusional yandere #21 prompt with Vampire Vil and Rook? It can be nsfw if you want. Thank you

(You’re welcome and I hope you like this) 21. “All I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted was you.” (Yandere! Vil Schoenheit x Fem! S/o x Yandere! Rook Hunt) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD!)

(Y/n) didn't have much alone time anymore, not since she’d been made the slave of the Lord of the Night Vil Schoenheit and his second in command the Midnight’s Executioner Rook Hunt. Both men were vampires, a fact the young woman had become quite acquainted with not long after she arrived at the two males’ mansion when they’d first feasted on her as the sun set both on the day and her freedom. Luckily for her, Rook and Vil seemed rather uninterested in (Y/n)’s daytime activities and permitted her to roam the castle as long as she made herself available for feeding time at dusk. However tonight was a rare treat, the vampires would be too busy with business affairs to demand her presence and therefore the young woman had decided to spoil herself with a long shower. Usually, she had to rush to make sure she could make herself presentable for her masters, but this night she would stay in the hot water until it ran out and she would enjoy every minute of it. (Y/n) turned the water on, letting it get nice and hot before stripping out of her clothes and stepping into the warm jets of water pouring down. She hadn’t locked the door, none of the other slaves would dare interrupt her if they valued their lives.

She had to admit there were some perks to being the blood bag of Vil and Rook. One of those perks being permission to eat when she wanted, and to sleep as much as she wanted to make sure her blood was as healthy as possible for the vampires to consume. (Y/n) let her eyes shut as her head lolled back enjoying the heat of the water on her skin. All the while being in too much bliss to realize that the bathroom door had opened and two figures had slipped silently into the room with her before locking the door with supernatural power behind them as they stripped down to nothing.

The young woman stretched her arms up and behind her trying to relax the muscles only for her hands to press against something smooth and cool to the touch. (Y/n)’s eyes flew open and locked with one of the vampires she’d been hoping she wouldn't see tonight: Rook. The green-eyed male grinned down at her, enjoying how her body had gone stiff in surprise and her hands remained planted against his chest. “My how bold of you Dame d’Aeon, i wouldn't have expected a gesture so forward of you so soon” Rook said reaching up to grab the girl’s wrists and rearrange their position to his liking. The blonde took a step forward so his chest was pressed against (Y/n)’s back as he forced her to rest her hands on her breasts as he held her in an uncomfortably intimate embrace. The young woman’s head snapped forward as she broke eye contact with her captor and tried to stare at the floor before her. Only for her gaze to be forced upward by a second intruder in the form of the other vampire: Vil. “Someone told us you’d been in here sulking but I didn't expect them to be telling the truth” Vil said, his voice strangely casual for the situation at hand, as if he wasn’t standing naked before what was essentially his food. “I-i-i thought you had court matters to d-duh-deal with my Lords. I didn’t think you’d be re-re-requiring my services ton-n-night” (Y/n) stuttered out, her eyes threatening to pop out of her skull with how wide they were. Her words made both vampires go still, even more than they naturally did as creatures of the night. The bathroom was deathly silent save for the sound of the water pouring down and the young woman’s own nervous breathing. Suddenly Room burst out into raucous laughter and hugged the girl even closer so she could feel the vibrations of his mirth on her skin. “My, my you really are just full of surprises, Dame d’Aeon. To think you believed that we'd allow ourselves to get so tied up in business affairs that we’d have no time for you… Really it's so naive of you to think that way” Rook said once he’d gotten control of himself, even though the tone of his voice made it clear he needed only a little nudging before he’d start laughing once more. “And instead of trying to take advantage of that opportunity, you stayed where you were supposed to like a good girl. Such behavior should earn you a reward don’t you agree Mon Cher?” he added as he looked at Vil with a smirk that made (Y/n) shiver. “Agreed, you’ve learned a lesson that all of our previous pets failed to grasp” Vil said before taking hold of (Y/n)’s chin and holding it gently as one would hold a baby bird. There was a look in the vampire’s eyes that the young woman had never seen before, it was so similar to the one he’d made the night he’d first fed on her, a hungry almost depraved expression. Yet somehow this one was even more intense than that. The girl had been so entranced by the look in the blonde’s gorgeous violet eyes that she hadn’t noticed that he was still speaking to her or that he was leaning closer until their lips touched. The sudden contact of Vil’s chilled but silky smooth lips against her own slightly cracked yet still soft lips brought (Y/n) crashing back to reality with a yelp. She threw her head back, making Rook let out a soft grunt as her head smacked against his shoulder. The young woman’s face flushed with blood making it turn red and heated as she mumbled a confused apology to the two men who only sighed. “It seems you weren’t listening as closely as I hoped” Vil said, his expression turning disapproving. “But I can forgive your carelessness in light of the situation” he added, going in for another kiss.

This time (Y/n) was not allowed to pull away and her lips were gently pried open by Vil’s tongue as his hands came to rest on her hips and he traced nonsensical shapes on her skin. Rook amused himself by nuzzling his face into the crook of the young woman’s neck and running his fangs playfully up and down the column of her neck but not quite breaking the skin. “Since you didn’t listen the first time, I suppose I'll repeat the message for Mon Cher” the blonde said into the girl’s ear. “As reward for your obedience Dame d’Aeon, you’ll be given an experience most mortals would die for the chance at” he added with a coo.

(Y/n) could feel herself going light-headed from lack of air when Vil mercifully broke their liplock and permitted her to catch her breath even as his fingers continued dancing over her upper thighs to make patterns that made sense only to him. “Lord Schoenheit?” the young woman began hesitantly and received a hum in answer that encouraged her to continue speaking. “I don’t understand what you desire from me at this moment. I don’t know what I did wrong. Please…” she trailed off not knowing how or even what she was supposed to say to get a real answer. “Are you that thick-headed? Are you so naive to this matter?” Vil spoke sounding both disappointed and bemused. “Nevermind, that was a foolish question. I forgot that humans can be so dense even to things happening right in front of their noses” he added after a moment shaking his head and making water fly everywhere. One of the hands that had been idly moving along (Y/n)’s hips suddenly slid down between them to poke at the young woman’s nethers. On instinct, the girl tried to squeeze her thighs together and force the vampire’s hand to be still. “What an abrupt reaction, it’s almost like you were trying to put up a fight (Y/n)” Rook said surprising the young woman with the sudden usage of her name and giving his partner the opportunity he needed to wedge a leg between the girl’s knees so she couldn’t try and resist his touch again. Vil’s index finger flicked at (Y/n)’s clit and the girl’s body lurch in response at the sudden spark of pleasure and pain. The vampire did it a second time, harder now, and received another reaction from the young woman this time the movement was accompanied by a strangled moan. “Tell me (Y/n) how did that feel? Good?” Vil said with a smirk watching as the girl tried to avert her eyes even as her face became even redder with embarrassment. “There’s no point trying to lie, I’ll be able to tell if you do. So give me an answer my darling mortal~ Do you feel good?” he added with a third flick to the young woman’s sensitive clit which got a proper moan out of her that was paired with her frantically nodding to answer his question. “That’s better, I want to be able to reward you properly and I can't do that if you won’t answer my questions” the vampire crooned, trying to poke a finger into (Y/n)’s cunt. “Do you understand yet? Or do you need some more explanation before we get into the real fun of your reward Dame d’Aeon?” Rook said adjusting his grip so he could hold both of (Y/n)’s wrists in one hand and the other could be used for groping her breasts. “Or maybe you need it said aloud before you’ll get it. Ever since you arrived and became our new pet I’ve been hungry. Not only for your blood, oh no you made me ravenous for something more carnal than even that. It’s been a long time since I’ve desired the affections of someone besides Vil” he added in a low growl. “Do you have to make it sound so lewd” Vil said, his words suggesting disdain for his partner’s words but his tone had turned playful as his finger sunk into (Y/n)’s pussy and she let out a soft cry at the intrusion. “He’s telling the truth, there’s no point growing too close to one’s bloodbag. It only makes the eventual disposal that much harder to complete. Yet you, you pried your way into my mind and now it's impossible for me to be rid of you so easily” the blonde said sounding mildly annoyed as he added another finger to the one already inside the girl’s cunt and after a few moments more adding a third and fourth finger too. “You’re not making any sense, none of this makes any sense. Why are you doing this to me if you’re so attached to me? Please just stop!” (Y/n) said and then let out a squeak as Rook began laughing again. This time however she could feel something begin to grind against her backside as the vampire kept laughing at her childish naivete, and she squeezed her eyes shut trying not to think about it. The blonde did not take kindly to being ignored and he let out a low annoyed growl into the young woman’s ear before biting down on her neck and sucking her blood. The girl’s cry of pain was quickly cut off by one of pleasure as Vil’s fingers probed deeper into her cunt and pressed against a sensitive bunch of nerves that made (Y/n) see stars. The juxtaposition of Rook drinking her blood and Vil fingering her pussy was making all her senses go fuzzy as the opposing stimulations fought for dominance in her mind. Despite her best efforts to remain in control, there was nothing the young woman could do to stop her body from responding to the men’s advances and she found herself relaxing back into Rook’s grip as he continued to feed off her negating the need for Vil’s knee between hers. “Can you bend her forward for me?” Vil said, his words directed at Rook as he pulled his fingers free of (Y/n)’s cunt with a sloppy pop as her fluids clung to his digits even as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. The other vampire happily complied, retracting his fangs from the girl’s neck and removing his hands from her wrists and breast so he could force them behind her making it easier to hold them in place as she was bent overdo she looked like she was bowing in reverence. As the young woman was forced to bend, she soon came face to face with the purple-eyed man’s half-erect cock.

(Y/n) vaguely understood what she was being told to do even without the words being said. The problem was she didn’t know how to do it, having never been in a relationship long enough for this activity to come up as an option. A hand descended into her hair and entangling itself in her locks before lightly tugging to give her a warning of what might happen if she didn’t get to work. Hurriedly the young woman opened her lips and took the head of Vil’s cock into her mouth. Her technique was sloppy of course, owing in part to both inexperience and nerves. Fortunate for her then that neither of those things bothered the vampire very much. Vil let out a soft growl, using his other hand to cup (Y/n)’s cheek and stroke it lightly as she took more and more of his member into her mouth. All the while Rook continued to grind against her rear and grope at it as she obediently sucked the other blonde off. He gently pried open the girl’s thighs apart so he could nestle his cock between them and tease her overly sensitive clit some more while she focused on the task before her. (Y/n) tried to protest but her sounds were all muffled as she was forced to take more and more of Vil’s shaft. Vil tried to keep himself in control, this was supposed to be a pleasant experience for (Y/n) even if he was taking this chance to selfishly indulge a bit. He continued to stroke the girl’s cheek as his shaft disappeared further into her throat until her nose bumped against his pelvis. He used his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before pulling back a little and driving his cock back in, trying to encourage her to move her head a bit. The young woman quickly got the message and bobbed erratically on his shaft. Her movements were rewarded with stimulation from Rook who began thigh-fucking her to the same rhythm.

If it wasn’t for his years of sexual experience and his extreme self-control, the blonde might have blown his load down the girl’s throat and ruined the entire encounter. At the last moment, he released her hair and pulled himself free of her delightful throat and mouth with a grunt. The sudden loss of the purple-eyed male’s grip almost made (Y/n) fall headfirst against the shower tile. Luckily Rook had not loosened his grip on her arms and kept her quite steady as she gasped for breath. The green-eyed male helped her back into a standing position before throwing his partner an excited, hopeful look. “Is it time for the main event Mon Cher?” Rook said his tone just oozing anticipation that was reciprocated by the other vampire who nodded with a smirk. (Y/n) just looked from one man to the other still not quite understanding what was about to transpire. Rook wrapped an arm around the young woman’s waist hoisting her up so her butt was pressed against his lower abdomen. With the other, he took hold of his cock and lined it up against her dripping cunt. The light pressure of the head of the vampire’s cock forcing her pussy open was what finally made (Y/n) understand what was going on. “Nononono” (Y/n) babbled trying to wriggle free of the blonde’s grip. “I’m sorry! Please! Don’t do this to me!” she continued to beg frantically. Her purity was the last thing she could still call her own, no matter how the vampires demeaned her and treated her like a toy she could still take pride in her still being a virgin. But now they were going to take that away from her too and she was beside herself in panic even as water from the showerhead above dripped into her mouth, choking as she inhaled the water amidst her wails for mercy from the two men. “Stop resisting (Y/n), you’re acting like a child” Vil scolded, stepping forward to grip the girl’s thighs and force them still so Rook could thrust up into her without any further fuss. (Y/n) tried to keep fighting but it was no use as her insides were abruptly forced open by Rook’s cock and the vampire let out a pleased moan at how warm her cunt was. The green-eyed male’s hips bucked lazily a few times as he grew accustomed to how perfectly (Y/n)’s inner muscles squeezed his member. The young woman’s head lolled to the side as tears began to build up in them and she let out a sniffle. “Oh Ma Chérie, you should save those tears for later” Rook said sweetly, peppering (Y/n)’s neck in kisses as Vil pressed his cock against the opening of the girl’s already stuffed cunt and began sheathing himself as well. This time the young woman didn’t bother trying to fight, there was no point resisting anymore when they’d already tainted her beyond repair. Vil’s body went still as he bottomed out inside (Y/n)’s pussy, and he let out a contented sigh before pressing some kisses to the girl’s neck as well. However as he and Rook began fucking their prey in earnest, his fangs came out and he began feeding on (Y/n)’s blood. As for (Y/n) her brain had gone totally blank from the intense pleasure and pain she was experiencing at the hands of the vampires. Her eyes rolled back in her skull making it impossible for her to tell which male was pinching her nipples and groping her tits and which one was biting her and toying with her clit like a doorbell button. Her cunt was dripping non-stop turning the water going down the drain pink with the blood from her lost maiden-hood. During a moment of clarity mid-fuck she managed to ask for the reason for this punishing reward. Her mind went cloudy again before she could hear the answer and her body was forced through a series of rapid-fire orgasms, each leaving her more sensitive than ever. By the time the vampires had had their fill of her body, (Y/n) was only half-conscious as they pulled out. She was easily maneuvered by the pair who washed her properly before carrying her out of the bathroom back to their bedroom. Usually, the young woman was banned from being in this room unless she'd seriously misbehaved and needed to be disciplined for an extended period of time. Yet she was tucked into the bed as if it was the most natural thing in the world as the vampires curled themselves around her and settled in for slumber. Vil fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, however Rook remained conscious awhile longer muttering to himself. “All I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted was you” were the only words (Y/n) could piece together in her drowsy state. Was he talking about Vil? Was he talking about her? Perhaps both? The young woman didn’t have the energy to ponder this query, not when the next time she woke she’d no longer be of the living world... THE END

#Yandere Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit #Yandere Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt #Yandere Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland #Yandere TWST #TWST

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

Text

HASO “Dream Come True.”

Hope you guys enjoy, and hope you all have a great day!

Adam took a drink before setting the glass back down on the table. Across from him, Donovan Red took a pull on his whisky, drinking deeply before setting his glass down wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m Sorry about your man….. I didn’t intend for things to go that way.” Adam said staring down at the amber liquid in the glass before him.

Donavan signed, “Not your fault. Sometimes pride gets the better of us, and it’s hard to admit that an outsider might be able to beat us at our own game.” he patted Adam on the shoulder, “But you saved my life, which means I am, and will forever be in your debt.” He smiled

Adam tilted his head.

“That doesn’t seem to bother you too much.”

“I think there are much worse people to be indebted to. A least I know you won’t ask me to do something I don’t want to do. Not like other men I know.” He took another drink, the tattoos on his neck bobbing once and then twice as he swallowed, “So, tell me this favor that you are looking for. How can me and mine be of service.”

Adam sighed and slumped back in his seat. He felt like he should definitely be keeping quiet about what he wanted to tell the man, but it was hard keeping it to himself and the people on his ship.It would be nice if someone else knew what was going on.

And wasn’t that the point.

Isn’t that why he had come here.

“When I joined the UNSC, I never thought about politics. I was a fighter pilot and then a spaceship captain. I am no politician, but more and more I find myself having to do politics like things. People ask for my opinions on policy, and they encourage me to support one group over another. I have to manuver as a diplomat for the GA without trying to piss off the actual diplomat, who isn’t too happy that I sometimes get in the way of them doing their job.

I am the human representative to all of humanity, and I have to behave the right way, but, sometimes, in doing what I know is right people get mad at me for it. I am worried one day they are going to give me an order that I just can’t follow. Not to mention that I have suddenly become the figurehead for an entire political movement. Sometimes I have to make speeches now.” he threw up his hands, “I represent a coalition interested in cooperating with the GA and all her interests, but there is a very heavy isolationist mindset on earth that is mad that we ever even joined the UNSC. They have already attempted to assassinate me once, and I have no doubt that they are going to do it again.”

Donavan grunted and looked him over, “Yes, I remember hearing about that.” He looked Adam up and down slowly, “No offence, but you would make a shit politician.”

Adam sighed and nodded, “I know. The only reason that I have so much pull in the arena is based on what I represent, and how the GA feels about me, but now…. Now I am learning that there are factions of the GA that want me gone.”

Donavan rased an eyebrow in surprise, “The GA?”

Adam shrugged and sighed pushing his glass away from him, “Yes, some very powerful people are after me for something I never intended to do.”

“And who is this exactly?”

Adam shut his mouth forcing himself to think about it for a moment before finally making his decision.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, “The chairwoman of the GA herself.”

Red almost choked on his drink, spewing some of it out onto the table before swallowing hard and setting his glass down very slowly.

“WHAT!”

“Adam nodded. I was chasing after some information, and infiltrated the pirate wing of the anti-alliance coalition as a man named captain Kell.”

Red held up a hand, “Hold on, YOU are Kell, no shit. I heard the guy was one badass pirate.”

Adam adjusted his eye-patch, “I AM one badass pirate, but either way, I used that cover to get to their leaders and saw a transmission being sent from the chairwoman of the GA that was ordering those men and women to kill me if they could manage it, and now I don’t know what to do. The chairwoman pretty much helped me get my job. As far as I can recall she was one of the most supportive when it came to my promotion to captain. Thought we were allies if not friends, and now I come to learn that she has been operating behind my back to stage my assasination.”

Red leaned up against the table, “Well no shit, that does suck.” He tapped his fingers together, “And of course you can’t tell anyone without proof, otherwise they aren’t going to believe you. If you are going to come up with allegations like those, then you are going to need hard evidence against her.

Adam nodded, “And I do have some evidence, the recording of what she said, but those sorts of things can be doctored. I need to expose her somehow. I don’t know how all of this fits in of course, but it is partially why I came to speak with you.”

Red waited and Adam continued.

“I can’t trust anyone within the GA, or even within the UNSC. My only option is to go outside the law like my enemies are doing. Fight fire with fire so to say. If they are using the criminal underbelly to try and kill me, then maybe I can use it to try and save me.”

Donavan was nodding slowly, “And you are hoping to fight fire with fire to speak?”

Adam sighed, “I don’t know what I am hoping , but I know for a fact you and your men have the most power in this system, enough that everyone knows but no one questions it. I know you can go deeper than I can ever attempt, and I was hoping that maybe you could keep an eye out for me, track the movements of the criminal underworld so to speak while I try and deal with those people who are pretending to do things legally.”

Red nodded slowly, ‘That is something I can do”

“But is it something you are willing to do?”

He tilted his head back thoughtfully to look up at the ceiling above, “I think it is. Not much different from things my men and I already do accept this time it is going to be for a worthy cause.”

He grinned, his gold capped teeth glittering in the dim light, “I-”

Just then, the implant in the side of his neck began to buzz. He held up a hand for Red to be silent, and the other man nodded leaning back in his seat to finish his drink as Adam answered the call.

“Madam president.” His tone of surprise roused red who raised an eyebrow.

“I have to say this is…. This is rather shocking. I didn’t know that you had this number.”

“I can have any number that interests me Admiral.”

“Yes of course.” He shifted nervously in his seat, “What can I do for you ma’am.”

“Do you know what important event happened on July 20th 1969, Admiral.”

He paused not entirely sure if this was a trick question.

“Go on. I know you of all people would know it.”

“The Apollo 11 moon landing ma’am.’

“More precisely, the 2051 anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing. And it has been long in coming but the Global Aeronautics Space Division has decided to celebrate the occasion by recreating Apollo 11 down to every historical accuracy. The calculations will be done partially by hand and partially by computer. The Ship design will be exactly that of Apollo 11, etc. etc.”

Despite the stress he had been under the last few days, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Wait, are…. Are you serious! That is amazing!”

“Yes yes.” She said cutting him off.

“And they want…. Or all of us want you to pilot that ship and command the mission as Commander Neil Armstrong would have in his time.”

The only response he was able to manage was a squeak, and he could feel the fangirl in him coming on hard and fast. He tried to clear his throat and remain professional, his heart pounding, a wide grin setting off across his face.

“Yes Ma’am you can count me in.”

“How confident are you that you can pilot the rocket?”

“I can fly anything ma’am.”

“Even so, we would like you back on earth as soon as possible to prepare for the event. This is a big historical recreation, and we want it to go as well as possible.”

“yes ma’am.”

The line went dead and he was no longer able to fight back the grin on his face.

Red watched him before standing, “We will get to work Admiral, and we will keep in contact. It’s good to know that my men and women are going to have something useful to occupy their time instead of sitting around twiddling their thumbs.”

Adam stood as well and took the man’s hand, “It should be a pleasure working with you.”

Red snorted skeptically, “You are too kind. I doubt it will be so pleasant, but consider yourself as a man who has friends in very low places.”

The two of them nodded and Adam excused himself back to his ship, racing towards his rooms with the giddy excitement of a school boy. The clind in him had awoken. He stopped to sit on the edge of his bed staring at the tiny recreated model of the lunar module sitting on the shelf above his bed glowing blue in the neon light above.

How cool was this going to be.

How dangerous was this going to be?

***

Eris was pleased to learn that she was not lactose intolerant. They hadn’t been sure based on her half alien half human anatomy if she would be able to handle some of the more harsh foods of the planet, but everything seemed to be working properly, a fact she was forever thankful for as she polished off her second bowl of ice cream.

She found the treat novel and delectable.

Leave it to human to think of eating flavored snow, or at least frozen cream.

And she liked it when they put little bits of candy on top.

Martha Sat on the floor next to the couch, and her husband sat in his chair watching ‘the Game’. Eris wasn’t sure what the rules were, but she liked watching them crash into each other. She wasn’t a big fan of all the talking they seemed to do in between the crashing together.

Martha and Jim had invited her to stay over for as long as she wanted after she told them the more detailed story of her life. They had been shocked but ultimately unsurprised to learn that she was less than three years old feeling sorry that she never got to have her childhood.

That’s why they were treating her like this, she knew.

They wanted to give her that little bit of her childhood.

She worried that they would be annoyed at her presence, but they seemed to have time with her sticking around indefinitely as far as she could tell . She wasn’t sure how long she was going to be staying, but for now, she was happy where she was.

Of course part of her being welcome had something to do with how Martha had no one to model clothes for her. Since her youngest son left the house she had been forced to model them herself, which made things difficult when she wanted to make alterations. But now that she had Eris, things were going much more smoothly,

At first Eris had been embarrassed to put on the clothing for her.

Once upon a time Eris hadn’t known better in thinking her body was weird. She had floated around without it using a gravity belt and no clothes, letting her long dark hair and ribbons cover what needed to be covered, but the more she learned about humans, the more self conscious she had grown, until hoodies and baggy pants were the only things she wore.

Martha did not approve of her wardrobe seeming to think Eris would look very striking in red or black.

Eris had tried on a few outfits for her nervousness at just how much of her alien otherness tended to show, with plunging backs and short skirts to show off her marble whie legs. Martha seemed to think the ribbons were pretty, and in everything she had Eris try on, they were on full display.

“Do they work like starborn ribbons?” Martha wondered, “I know they act sort of as solar sales, storing energy from the sun and using that to glide.”

Eris paused, “I don’t know. I was born on noctropolis where there is no sun, so I have never tried it.”

“I think you should.”

Eris shifted nervously, “But.”

Martha just smiled at her, “our backyard is fenced in, no one is going to see you.” Eris thoughts bout it for a moment and then set her bowl down to the side. She stood slowly and walked to the back sliding screen door and stepped out onto their back porch.

Technically it was only fenced in on two sides. The backside was open where the forest met their lawn growing deep and black as it went further back in to the depths.

Nervously Eris reached up and pulled off her hoodie dropping iit to the ground.

The tank top she wore had been made by Martha to accommodate her ribbons.

Once upon a time her gravity belt had allowed those ribbons to wave and undulate, but here they sagged with gravity and flowed behind her in the occasional wind current.

She turned around so they were facing the sun and waited.

And waited.

She felt nothing happening and was abut to go inside when.

When something started to happen.

She felt more…. Energized. Her blood seemed to grow warm and a smile spread across her face. At first she thought it was just all in her head, but then the warmth continued to blossom over her.

Her eyes went wide and she hummed softly feeling recharged from the sun like a battery.

She had her eyes closed and was just enjoying the radiation when she heard something ringing from the inside of the house followed by voices.

She was able to tear herself away from the warmth and stick her head inside.

“Adam, how are you doing.” Jim said and Eris could see Adam’s face projected on the TV.

She recognized a bit of herself in him. She had his nose, and his eyes shape.

“You are not going to believe who just called me.”

Martha smiled as she walked over to sit next to her husband, “Adam I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the president herself.”

Adam frowned some of the wind momentarily taken out of his sales, “Ok, yes it was the president, but.” e lit up almost immediately, “But you are not going to believe what she asked me to do.” He didn’t wait for them to guess, “She wants me to fly a recreated mission of the Apollo 11 moon landing. Historically accurate and everything!.” His grin was so wide it looked like he was going to split his face in half.

Martha’s eyes widened, “Really?”

Jim frowned, “That is great Adam, but…. Historically accurate?”

He nodded vigorously, “Yeah.”

“Son yu do realize the computer they used was less powerful than your mother’s automatic blow dryer.”

He waved a hand, “Yeah yeah, I know I know. Most of the math is probably going to be done by hand.”

Jim snorted and Martha grimaced, “Adam, sometimes I wish you had safer hobbies. I mean flying the omen is one thing, with those shields she could probably survive a meteor impact, but you understand the Apollo 11 mission flew in a rocket that that parts no heavier duty than your average tin can.”

“yes , and that makes it even more awesome.”

“I think you are getting dangerous and awesome confused again, son.”

“Oh come on, this is like a dream come true for me. ‘

Finally Martha and Jim sighed and broke out into smiles, “There is no changing your mind as usual.”

Adam grinned, “Nope.”

He turned his head just then, seeming to look through the camera, his eyes falling on Eris. Shock spread across his face, “Eris, is that you?”

She smiled shyly and moved forward, “Yeah, It’s me.”

“What are you doing there, I thought you were working at the hybrid foundation taking care of Glados and the others.”

She shrugged guiltily, “I…. well glados and the others wanted to go back to the adapted planet, and after that others started getting adopted, but then I sort of burnt out and wanted to come here and meet…..” She paused not sure if she should say

Martha put an arm around her, “She wanted to meet her grandparents and extended family.”

Adam looked surprised for a moment as if not having expected that before shrugging, “Just try to avoid mom’s side of the family if at all possible.”

“Adam.” Martha scolded, though she wasn’t actually mad.

He grinned, “I’ll be home in a few days.” he looked at eris, “Maybe I can show you around town when I get back….. If that’s something you’d be interested in?”

Eris shuffled her feet and quietly looked down, “Yeah,i’d like that.”

She wished she could read his thoughts in that moment. Was he only offering to be polite? She knew better than anyone that her birth had not been his fault. He had had his DNA stolen to make her, but still she couldn’t help but feel an affinity towards him. One that she knew wasn’t fiar for her to feel.

He hadn’t chosen for her to be born after all.

Not like other people

Did he just feel guilty?

Was she unwanted?

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