#and he uses both of them for his plans. may as well use his bastards for something in his eye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse · 1 year

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A Bad Idea

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Summary - Request by anon for "Would you please write a scenario where Ominis has a secret crush on female MC and accidentally drinks a lust potion. Horny Ominis ensues 😏

Word Count - 2,018

Warnings - 18+ smut, slight degradation, oral sex

A/N - I know this isn't exactly 'accidental' but it's hard coming up with so many reasons for different stories as to why they took the potion

"Sebastian, I've told you this is such a ridiculous idea."

"Come on, admit it, you're just scared." Sebastian teased his friend before placing a mug in his hand. "We're not the only ones doing it! There are guys from other houses doing it as well. Of course, Garreth is doing it since it's his idea. Come on, bottoms up."

Ominis sighed deeply before feeling Sebastian tip his mug from the bottom and forced him to drink the concoction. Garreth had some grand idea to create a lust potion and force it upon an entire group of them. He saw it as some kind of challenge to see how long the lads could stand it before taking care of business.

Ominis wanted no part of it, but somehow Sebastian had talked him into it. He thought that he may have an advantage since he had one less sense that could lead him down the road of temptation.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," the blond coughed at the taste of the potion before jabbing the mug into Sebastian's hands.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do with my day."

Omins made a move to turn away and exit the common room, but Sebastian put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Actually, my friend, I believe Y/N was coming up to see you." Sebastian's tone was smug and Ominis knew right away he had been set up for his own embarrassment.

He could already feel the tips of his ears getting hot just thinking about you. He had trusted Sebastian to keep his feelings safe and clearly, he had no such plan of doing that.

"You bastard. At least get out, spare me from having you as a witness to me making a fool of myself." He crossed his arms just as you came bounding into the room, calling his name.

Sebastian muttered a half-hearted goodbye before slipping past the two of you and right out the door. You gave him an odd look as he started laughing on his way out before you moved to stand in front of Ominis.

"Is something going? I feel like there's something I'm missing here. Sebastian told me you needed my help with something." When you said that Ominis immediately had thoughts he could not control. He imagined the smooth skin of your thighs as he spread them apart, digging into them with his fingers. He imagined your breathy voice telling him you need him and the moans that followed when he obliged.

He shifted nervously before taking a seat on the couch nearest to you both. He did his best to sit near to the edge, hoping to keep some distance between you both.

"Well, I'm afraid Sebastian is mistaken. I would love for you to keep me company though." He flashed you a smile and tried to steady his breathing. He knew he was playing a dangerous game with himself. He could feel his cock stiffening beneath his robes. Every word you spoke. Every waft of your scent that drifted his way; it all just fueled his fantasies. He was somewhat surprised at how fast the potion had an effect on him.

You eyed him suspiciously before taking a seat beside him as you usually would. Your hip and leg were pressed up against him as you sat near him, leaning over to examine him. He used every ounce of willpower he had to contain a moan from the subtle contact.

"Ominis is something wrong? You look as if you're about to explode. You can talk to me even if you don't think I can help."

He turned towards you, placing an unsuspecting hand on your thigh. He thought that maybe if he just tip-toed around the line and kept close to you like normal it would be enough to quench the ache he was feeling between his legs.

"It's really nothing. You know how Sebastian is. He's just been stirring trouble up all day and I'm fed up with him," he huffed. His anger and annoyance were very real at that moment. You reciprocated his affections by leaning your head against his shoulders with a sigh, "I'm sorry that you had to be his victim for today."

You were extremely aware of his hand that wasn't too far away from your own heat. You had mastered keeping a straight face when he reached out for you, but internally you were on fire thinking about what would happen if his fingers were to slip beneath the fabric.

You put your own hand on his knee as you sat with him in comfortable silence. You had just closed your eyes when you noticed his fingers tapping impatiently against you. His own leg had begun a steady rhythm up and down as well. You took notice of how unlike him this was before determining how to respond. You glided your hand up his leg in a calming gesture, but you froze when you heard a groan fall from his mouth. Your breathing was becoming harder to control as you realized what exactly your hand had stumbled upon.

He was painfully hard inside of his trousers. You had inadvertently just given him one big stroke. To his credit, his cock felt much bigger and thicker than you would have guessed. Certainly different from how you had always pictured it.

"O-Ominis," you stuttered, "I — I didn't mean to —"

When you tried to pull your hand away he clamped his free hand over the top of yours. He lulled his head towards you and you could see how flushed he'd become. You could see the detail in his eyes and the way his glossy pupils had become enlarged.

"Please," his voice was low and filled with arousal. The sound went straight to your core.

"I — Sebastian...Garreth made this stupid potion and I —"

"Oh." you cut him off before he could finish. You had heard Garreth talking about his experiments earlier in the day and thought them to be completely insane. Why would all the boys just want to make themselves incredibly horny to be around one another for the rest of the day? "I heard about that. I just didn't think...I didn't think you would be one of the people to take it."

You gave his cock a squeeze, running your hand down the length once more and he thrust his hips towards your touch. He felt like he was in heaven like this must be a dream, it couldn't be real. "But I...I don't mind helping you out." You gingerly took his hand that was on your thigh and guided it to the thin cotton of your undergarments, shamelessly letting him feel the wetness that had leaked through the material.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not sure...not sure I can let you do this. I don't feel like myself and I might be a little rough." His brain was screaming at him as he tried to give you an escape. He was practically drooling when he felt your slick with his fingers, pressing firmly against your heat, but he didn't want you to feel obligated to help him with his predicament.

You spared a brief glance at the common room entrance before you moved off of the couch and onto your knees on the floor. You situated yourself between his legs, carefully pushing them open further.

Small whimpers escaped his mouth as he felt the heat of your body between his legs. Although the initial loss of contact had him frustrated, he was now in disbelief at what it seemed you were about to do. You raised your hands to unfasten the top of his pants while you gazed up at him.

He placed a hand over yours, to give you one more chance, "Y/N," his voice was gravelly, "I'm telling you I can't think straight. I can't be delicate with your pretty mouth. I need it too fucking badly." His voice had evolved into nearly a growl, but you brushed his hand away and prompted him to lift himself up and let you pull down his trousers.

You took his underwear down with them and his cock sprang up in front of you. His head was dripping and you looked at it in awe of the size and all the beauty marks that were placed so perfectly.

He dragged his hand up your arm and then up the back of your neck, grabbing at the hair that was at the base of your skull. He pulled you forward, pressing your cheek up against his length.

He gave you enough leeway to adjust yourself and swirl your tongue over his wet tip. He tugged harder at your head, forcing your mouth over him and causing you to gag slightly from the sudden intrusion.

"Agh, Y/N, you feel so fuckin' good. More, please. I won't ask twice."

You steadied braced your hands against his thighs and made sure to look up at him. His lustful expression was all the motivation you needed. You stuck your tongue out against his cock and slowly stretched your mouth over it to take as much as possible.

Tears pricked at your eyes when he undulated his hips and forced as much as possible down your throat. "Your mouth is so perfect and tight, please, I'm not going to last very long." You began bobbing your head up and down, trying to take more with each attempt, but he was so thick. Even the added help from his pre-cum wasn't enough to make it all possible. You dug your nails into his thighs and he lost himself in your touch.

He started fucking your mouth relentlessly, getting off to the sound of your muffled choking and thinking about how soaked you probably were from doing something so lewd. And in the middle of the common room no less. "Nngh, what would Sebastian think if he walked in on you right now? F-fuck d'you think he and Garreth would try to get in line for you? After seeing you're such a slut?"

Filthy moans rolled off his lips, a light sheen of sweat making his pale skin glow as he assaulted your mouth and talked down to you.

"It's too bad because you're mine. They can watch all they want, but — agh — Y/N, your slutty mouth is mine. I'm so close, I'm close — "

He forced the full length of his cock into your mouth and let out a guttural cry. You had no choice but to swallow his hot seed as it fell down the back of your throat.

"Yes, swallow it, all of it," he panted and he released some of the tight grip he had on you. He instead rested his palm against your hair, stroking you softly. Once you're sure he's been sucked dry you take him out of your mouth and rest your head against his leg, struggling to catch your breath.

You're somewhat thankful he can't see the drool that's run down your chin and over the top of your blouse. "Oh, Y/N," he sounded more like himself now, not plagued only with thoughts of defiling you. He moved to tuck himself back into his pants before leaning forward to pull you back up to seat you on the couch.

"That's not exactly how I wanted this to happen for the first time, but you felt so good. You were amazing." He cupped your face and used a thumb to swipe across your lips, "Are you alright?"

You nodded as you curled against his chest, "Yes, Sebastian was right to come and get me for this task don't you think?" You laughed softly together as he wrapped an arm around you.

"Yes, I — I would not have sought out anyone except you. I hope you know I want more from you than that." He tilted his head so you could see the sincerity on his face, "I like you quite a lot. Perhaps we can make other plans together that don't just include these activities."

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis #ominis smut #ominis gaunt smut #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x oc #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x oc

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abditorial · 5 months

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You def fed the people with the dry humping post LAWD 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

May I humbly request a continuation with inumaki 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

The song says lady boner gone but tbh lady boner is definitely still here…

Since you asked so humbly! 🤭

YOUR ACTIONS ARE DOING ALL THE ASKING,

I CAN FEEL YOUR BODY TREMBLING.

More dry humping ♥︎

FT. Toge Inumaki

X READER

WARNINGS: 18+, AFAB reader, Toge says actual words that aren’t verbs like “yes” “okay” and so on, semi-public sex, eventual penetration, creampie, not proofread (i’ll do it later leave me alone…)

It was just like Gojo to make a big deal about his own birthday. Plan a huge surprise party for himself at one of, if not the, most expensive restaurants in Tokyo and offering to pay for everyone who showed up as well as inviting all his students and co-workers. While he was rather charming, most of his friends tended to come from work or were his students and half of them found him annoying so he basically had to bribe you all to show up.

As expected you were sitting at one end of the table with the rest of the second years, which really only consisted of your boyfriend, Maki, and Panda. Yuta was still overseas… Lucky bastard getting to skip an awkward dinner party that was mostly just Gojo and Itadori having loud conversations about nothing important while the rest of you whispered amongst yourselves.

“Toge, what do you plan on getting?” Communication was hard as his lover, because you had to be careful what you asked and he had to be careful how he responded. Verbs weren’t allowed in day to day conversations because he feared he’d accidentally end up using his cursed speech on you. This was a simple question, though. He could answer truthfully without consequences. But he didn’t; Your boyfriend fell silent.

This piqued your curiosity and you lifted your gaze away from the menu to make sure everything was alright. However, you found yourself blushing profusely when you were met with a look that could only be described as hunger. Hunger for you. He was nearly undressing you with his eyes, letting his gaze drift all over your body and take in how gorgeous you looked in your nice low cut top and jeans that hugged your hips perfectly. The way the necklace he got you rested on your collarbone and dragged all his attention to your chest.

“Toge!” You whisper yelled at him, glanced around the table to make sure nobody was watching, and then gestured to the obvious tent in his pants. He finally looked away to where you could only see the tips of his ears going red. “Really? Now?”

“Salmon…” The way he said it was very pathetic, because he knew he should be slightly ashamed but all he could think was the dirtiest of thoughts.

“…” You gave a huff and leaned in to whisper, “I’ll meet you in the bathroom in like five minutes.” Don’t forget the light smack on the arm and a “hurry up!”

Exactly five and a half minutes passed when you were excusing yourself from the table and rushing off to the bathrooms. You had never been to this restaurant, and to your dismay the only options were bathrooms with various stalls, meaning you were very much at risk of being caught. After successfully sneaking you inside the men’s restroom, Toge had pulled you both in the furthest stall from the entrance. He had no problem finding out what he wanted from you, because he was also positioning you just right.

Your ass flush to his crotch, which was still raging hard and seeming like it didn’t plan on ‘deflating’ any time soon. You pressed your palms up against the stall door to keep yourself steady while you bent over because if anyone knew how much Toge enjoyed seeing your spine arch to amplify how plump your bottom was it was you. As expected, he was already giving a low groan of his approval.

Starting off at a slow pace, his hips were moving just like they would if he was really inside you, feeling your warmth. Shit, if it weren’t for the fact you guys were at your teacher’s birthday party maybe he wouldn’t have hesitated to take what he wanted. But since he was such a gentleman he figured he would avoid making such a big mess around all your guys’ friends.

A whine fell from your lips, and almost instantly he had leaned over your bent figure to cover that pretty mouth with his hand, grunting a low “Roe,” in your ear that was pretty clear it meant ‘shut up’. Of course he couldn’t really say that, Toge was too addicted to the soft moans you made to make you silence yourself entirely.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his hard on poking at your ass, or how his cold hands were pressed against your tummy, sliding up your shirt to make you shiver and squirm. He was damn near panting in your ear, trying to keep his mouth shut about how badly he wanted to be inside you or to feel your mouth around his cock to keep it warm.

“Toge,” You whined as quietly as you could. You didn’t want to get caught. How embarrassing would it be for a friend to walk into the bathroom and catch you two in the act, hearing your voice and knowing automatically what was happening? He grunted as a response, another way to tell you to keep your voice down. “Please, Toge…” But on the other hand, your begging was so cute. “I want you inside me so bad.” Well, if anything this night has told you how easily you can make him hard.

He pressed his lips to your neck, trying to resist your request and instead just focus on leaving you sweet kisses. Yet he couldn’t hold back from the way you grinded back onto him, your every movement clearly desperate. With a huff, your boyfriend straightened himself out and made quick work of your clothes. Fingers carefully yanking your jeans down by the belt loops, hissing when he noticed the circular stain in your panties that told him everything he needed to know. He teasingly brushed his hand against you, cupping your sex and letting his hand drag upwards over your ass and to the waistband of your underwear, taking his sweet time to slide them off and let them drop to your ankles.

You were trying to be silent when he initially slid himself in, but good god did you miss the feeling of him being inside you. The feeling was clearly mutual too, because he was, once again, hunched over with his face buried in your neck to stifle his little, pathetic whines. As much as he wanted to lose himself and just rail you like it was all he knew how to do, every thrust was slow and passionate to avoid making so much noise.

“Can I-?” You didn’t let him finish his sentence, because you already knew what he was going to ask and what your answer was going to be. With the nod of your head, he was pulling back to hold either side of your ass, rutting his hips forward as far as he could before painting your insides white.

It was quite awkward shuffling out of the restaurant with only the excuse that “something came up” while you were trying to not let his cum spill from your panties. That ‘something’ being your boyfriend’s dick. Again.

If Inumaki was talking with someone and he told them to go fuck themself as a joke would they actually do it??

It’s a little hard to write for Inumaki because I have to avoid phrases that can be seen as instructions or taken literally. But it’s worth it because I love him

As always, requests are open!!

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #jjk toge #toge inumaki #toge x reader #toge x you #inumaki x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toge

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anjelicawrites · 4 months

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Hello! May I request a pvert!michael gavey x reader being roommates and their power goes out during a winter storm so they have to share the bed for warmth and things gets pretty steamy in the shared bed... thank you!

Hi nonnie! This came out far longer than what I thought it would be! I hope you like it!

NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!

Warnings: reference to Michael x the agoraphobic girl, kissing, scratching, fingerfucking, p in v sex, dry humping, Michael being a bit darkish at the end.

The start of your second year in Oxford had been horrendous, from having to switch from your college to another, while all your friends remained there, to having been moved where that asshole Michael Gavey lives.

You should have nothing against the guy, you two have more things in common than almost all of your peers, yet you find him the personification of everything that irks you: the flaunting of his, admittedly, brilliant mind, his superiority complex and his complete disregard for social norms. His reasons for not liking you are a complete mystery.

You two try as hard as possible not to cross paths with one another, luckily enough your two degrees have just one class in common and you don't study in the library he goes to, preferring to walk a bit further and be with your friends. Even in the common room, you and Michael have managed to not to stumble upon one another, synchronizing your schedules so that, whenever one is using the room, the other is somewhere else.

Obviously the universe has to play another one of its sick tricks and disrupt the, fragile, harmony of your life, in the form of: the worst snow storm of the past ten years, the power going out and you struck in the college with him. Everyone is out for the weekend, but you and Michael, having both to study for a mid - semester test for the only class you two share.

You know he has no friends, not since Oliver Quick decided that hanging out with Felix Catton and his people was far more entertaining than the ramblings of a math nerd and you feel like Michael has dodged a bullet there, you don't know why. You are on your own because all your friends are on a week - end trip to London; you would have been there with them, if only the professor hadn't decided to be a bastard and move up the test date.

Your chagrin notwithstanding, you had a plan, which consisted of: sealing yourself in your room, heating turned to the max and study all day so you could watch some telly the night, or read one of the new books you bought and didn't have the chance to open, yet. A splendid plan indeed, which worked perfectly on Friday and is crushed on Sunday, when the electricity stops working, all of a sudden, with a pop.

You lift your head, almost giving yourself a whiplash, when the lights go out, all of a sudden and you can't hear MTV in the background anymore.

"What the hell?"

Uselessly you try the switch on the small lamp on your table and try to turn on your laptop: everything is dead. With a curse, you wrap your fleece night gown around yourself, and venture in the hall, where you discover that all the lights are off. You lock the door behind you, not wanting to disperse the warmth accumulated, in case the heating dies as well, and venture to the common room which is, predictably, dark.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

Comes from behind you and you jump around with a scream, hand clutching the robe. That fucking creep Gavey! There's some sort of power outrage and, of course, he's the only one around!

"Fuck you!" You pant, your heart is beating like a drum in your chest. "The feeling is mutual." He responds, his usual disdain in his voice.

Why in the name of all is holy does he hate you so?

You two stand in the dark, like two imbeciles, eyes locked, neither of you wants to be the one to ask the predictable question.

"Is someone else here with us?" You cave, in the end, sick and tired already of the whole situation.

Gavey stares at you, if possible, with even more contempt in his blue eyes.

"Afraid of being alone with me?" "No, you utter cretin. I was simply wondering if there's other students in the same predicament we are, or if the person in charge is around." "Everyone else is out and I haven't seen Mr. Collins."

You curse inwardly. As much as you don't like Michael, you two need help and are not going to find it in the common room.

"Let's go." Gavey turns his back at you. "Maybe he's in his office."

Begrudgingly, you follow him. You don't have that many hopes to find the man, it's too late, but maybe he's still around, because of the snow.

The light from the windows dwindles, forcing you and Michael to navigate the corridors and stairs carefully, until you two stand in front of Mr. Collin's office, the door locked.

You feel like banging your head against the wood, and you'd do it, if Michael weren't around.

"We need to contact him. Let him know of what's going on." You say, dejected. "Do you still have the information package given to you when you moved here?" "Yes, sure. Don't tell me smartest nerd of his cohort lost his!"

There's disdain in your voice but, hey! Not once he's ever been nice to you, why should you?

"Mine is in the drawer of my desk, in my room, on the last floor. Do you truly want to walk there in complete darkness?"

You're glad there's almost no light, or he'll see the embarrassed expression on your face: how is it, that you always manage to pass for a dimwit when you're in his presence?

"How do you know where my room is?" "You said it yourself. Smartest of his cohort. Now, shall we go?"

You want to punch him, you should punch him, maybe sheer, brute force will make him stop treating you like an imbecile.

"Since you know where I live, I hope you can make your way in this darkness. I am not waiting for you."

On purpose you slam your shoulder against him when you walk down the hall: you can't stand him and why are you struck in whatever this is with him?

You two walk in silence, fingers brushing against the paneling on the walls to keep a steady course, feet treading carefully on the stairs as you two descend in the creepy silence of the deserted college.

You have to try a couple of times, before you manage to open the locked door, the warmth, still trapped in the room runs a shiver down your back: you hadn't notice how cold the building is. Luckily enough there's isn't many trees outside your side of the building and the light can stream through your windows, helping to illuminate your room and the snowy, lunar landscape outside.

You head towards the bookcase near your desk, you're pretty sure you've stashed the college information booklet with all the random bits and bobs in the box on the top of the bookcase. You have to grab the chair to hoist yourself up and go to your tip toes, since the cardboard has been pushed all the way back.

"What a nice burrow you've made for yourself."

Again, Michael's voice makes you jump out of your skin and almost fall off your precarious perch. With one hand around the box, you turn to see that creep walk leisurely around your small room, his fingers touching gently your possessions; he scoffs at the fairy lights you've hanged on the wall behind your bed and he has the gall to open the wooden box where you keep all your different teas and take a sniff! You're torn between surprise and rage at the way Michael feels entitled to touch your belongings, it's like he's leaving a stain everywhere his hands touch.

"You made yourself home." He says, with that note of pity and contempt he seems to reserve for you and you only. "This is my home, Gavey." You retort. "Yes, I have noticed. Mirrors your...personality."

It's the way he says it that makes your blood boil. Yes, you like to have stuffed animals and pretty pillows on your bed! You have your small breakfast nook and use it during the weekends, when you don't have to rush to class! And yes, you are the kind of basic bitch who loves fairy light and cute animal gadgets! What is wrong with that?

"If you don't like it here, you're free to climb up your tower and contact Mr. Collins on your own!"

This seems to sober him, you reckon he doesn't want to face the chill and the pitch black of the corridors.

"Have you find it?" There's still contempt in his voice, at least he's stopped touching your belongings!

You don't answer, you simply jump down from the chair, booklet in hand.

Your mobile phone sits on the desk. In the sea of bullshit that today has been, at least the battery of your Nokia is still full and the light of the screen is bright enough to illuminate the booklet. Michael stands by your side as the two of you are bending over the desk, busy with finding the phone number you two need, maybe he's too close to you, but you don't notice it, worried as you are by the whole situation.

Mr. Collins answers the phone and is of no help.

"The blizzard damaged the power lines." He says over the terrible connection, his voice fills your room. "They're working on the issue but there's no saying how long it's going to take!" "We can't just sit in the dark for days!" You say, trying not to sound too panicked. "Not days, love." Mr. Collins tried to soothe you. "Probably the whole night. Do you have enough blankets and a duvet?" "What for?"

You and Michael stare dumbly at one another, then a terrible realization hits the two of you.

"The heating system is electronically controlled. With the power down, the furnace stops working for security reasons."

You want to scream. Mr. Collins sounds so calm and controlled, probably sitting at home, heating on, while you're struck in your room, which will become unbearably cold during the night. Michael curses.

"Who's with you, love?" "Michael Gavey. We're the only two people in the building." He answers. "Look after one another, my boy." Mr. Collins says. "The furnace has already shut down but it will take a while for the heath to dissolve completely. You two should be fine, as long as you keep your doors closed and use all the blankets you have."

When the conversation ends, you turn your head to look at Michael, who is hovering over you, even with his back partially bent over the table, one hand planted next to your phone. Being so engrossed with the problem at hand, you just realize how much in your personal space Michael is and, is he smelling your hair?

"What?" He asks and looks genuinely surprised at your cross expression.

You take a deep breath. The poor lad, as off putting as he is, is in this sinking ship with you and you are a grown ass person who doesn't take their frustrations on another person. Michael was probably standing too close to you, but you two have bigger issues to face.

"Nothing. I simply hate all of this." "Me too."

Yes, he's definitely invaded you space, but he looks miserable in his too thin jumper and this situation is not something neither of you know how to handle. As Mr. Collins said, you two should look after one another.

"Do you have enough blankets?" You ask. "I have my duvet. Why?"

You are not surprised: the guy carries his stuff around in a crumpled Tesco bag, he probably doesn't care about buying pretty things for the sake of it, like you do.

"I was thinking about how cold it's going to become in a few hours. Are you going to be all right up there?"

You can't read Michael's expression in the dark room, the moonlight streaming through your windows has panted a mask on his face.

"I should be." He shrugs. "Warm air travels upwards." "Are you sure?" "The laws of physics don't change."

If he's trying to be a smart ass, he's failing. He looks awkward, standing with his arms down his body and the striped pants he's wearing, harmless and absolutely incapable of looking after himself. He's probably as worried as you are, but he's not letting you see it, you two are not friends and you two have to navigate this problem alone, no adult in sight to take the reins.

"Help me Michael." You say.

You know you're going to regret what you are about to propose, but you are not an asshole, not even towards him: the power outrage is far more important that you two not liking one another for whatever stupid reasons.

You grab the chair and put it near the wardrobe, before hoisting yourself up to grab the box you keep there.

"What are you doing?" He sounds surprised "Just take this!"

The box is heavy, your arms tremble with the effort to keep it over your head, while you turn around. With a huff you give it to Michael, who has to take a couple of steps back when he realizes how big the thing is.

"What do you keep here? Stones? The bodies of your enemies?"

Jesus Christ, you think, he doesn't know how to crack a joke to save his life!

You don't answer and direct him to put the cardboard box on the bed, where you proceed to open it, before starting pulling out all the blankets you've stored there.

Michael stares at you with genuine surprise on his face, not that you're looking at him, engrossed in emptying the box before you two die of hypothermia.

"You do like to be cozy!"

There it is again, the judging tone. You should kick him out of your room for it.

"Michael, don't make me regret the offer I am about to make." "Which is?"

Again, the moonlight doesn't offer enough light to read his face and he's standing too close to you for comfort, but you tell yourself he's socially inept and there's little else you two can do now.

"Let's share the bed. We can put all the blankets on and wait until the power comes back."

He stays silent for such a stretch of time that you don't know what to think.

"Did you make this?"

His fingers curl around the first crochet blanket you ever made. The thing looks crooked and it's not a perfect rectangle, but it was the first piece you ever finished on your own.

"I've picked up knitting and crocheting last year." Why do you feel like you have to justify yourself? "It's a grandma hobby" "At least I have blankets. Do you want to go freeze in your room?"

Michael doesn't answer and starts spreading your collection of throws and quilts on the bed.

"It's still a grandma hobby." He reiterates. "At least I have a hobby. What do you do in your spare time?" "Read books about maths." "I might be a grandma but you are boring." "Mathematics is not boring!" "I said you are." "At least I don't have the same hobbies my nan has." "That's rich coming from the guy who dresses like his grandfather!"

You two finish preparing the bed bathed by a dense silence. Why does he have to be an asshole all the times? You've extended your hand to him and he has the balls to shame you for what you like to do in your spare time! You hate when intelligent people act like they're entitled to be rude. You are not MENSA material the way he is, but you are brilliant and are always nice to everyone, even to him! He should, at least, do the same! Not touching your things without your permission and not even say that he's sorry! Instead, he is laying in your bed, warm and cozy, under the covers you've made with your 'Grandma hobby'. He's such an asshole and you hate that, of all the people in your college you are in this mess with him!

The bed is not made for two people to share, which means you two have to lie closer than what you'd like, good, because you two can share body warmth, bad because it feels strangely intimate. You've had your sexual experiences, a couple of times you've woken up in a stranger's bed, fuzzy on the details of how you've managed to get yourself there, none of the experiences ever felt as weird as trying to fall asleep with your back to Michael, who is attempting to arrange his long limbs in order not to touch you.

With all his moving, Michael is driving you insane and has already kicked you by mistake in the shins.

"Are you done?" All the pity you felt for him has already flown out of the window. "I can't find a good position." "Me neither! But I'm not squirming like a pinned worm!" "Well then, I was trying to avoid this!" He stops moving about, letting his legs fall against yours and one arm attached to your side. "Happy now?"

He sounds exasperated.

"At least I can try to sleep!" You answer, already done with him: this is the last time you are nice towards him, from tomorrow he gets treated like the asshole he is, power outrage be damned!

It's the cold that awakens you that, and the raging erection against your arse.

You don't know what time it is, having left your mobile phone on the table after the call with Mr. Collins. It's probably the middle of the night and whatever issue the blizzard has caused, hasn't been resolved yet.

"What the hell, Gavey?!?"

You kick him in the attempt to distance yourself from his cock and he wakes startled.

"What happened?" He stares owlishly at you, his glasses folded on the bedside table. "Check your pants, that's what happened!"

He doesn't move for a second and then simply readjust his position to keep his hips away from you.

"Not my fault." "You can, at least, say you're sorry!" "What for? I don't control my dick!" "Oh bollocks! You should say you're sorry anyway! I didn't want to wake with your cock against my arse!" "You got your panties in a bunch when I was trying to find a good position! Now you're angry because I have an erection. Check your priorities and this would have happened with anyone, by the way!" "As if you've ever slept with thousands of people!" "I've slept with more girls that you did!" "Somehow I doubt it!"

Oh, the look of surprise in his face is worth being awake, in the cold, because of his cock. Not to brag, but you've had your experiences with girls as well, since you've enrolled into Oxford. You're still unsure if you like boys more, but you're pretty certain your body count is far higher than his.

"You should do something about it."

He sounds angry now, why? Gone is the surprise on his features, replaced by a darkness that makes you distance from him.

"What do you mean?" "If my hard on is such an issue, you should do something about it."

OK, you think, what is happening all of a sudden?

"Go do something yourself!" Despite the cold you can feel burning embarrassment spread all over your body. "I'm not the one fussing about it." His big hand curls around your wrist to tug at it. "You are. It's only logical that you do something about it."

You lie frozen on the spot. You would have never expected the night to evolve this way, for your act of generosity to become this.

"What are you going to do, Gavey? Force me?"

You try to put on a brave front, knowing full well that you could never stop him if he decides to take advantage of you; he's scrawny, but stronger than you are.

"No. You'll just have to fall asleep with my hard cock next to your arse. Not that I am complaining."

The slap resonates in the silent room, your hand stings where it connected with his cheek.

"You're a pig, Gavey!" "Hit me all you want." He responds calmly, turning his head to face you. "It doesn't change that you're the one embarrassed, not me." "You have no shame, haven't you?" "I didn't decide to wake up with an hard on, I'm simply not making a tragedy out of it, like you are!" "I'm not!" "Then why are you playing the shy virgin? Haven't you slept with more people than I did?" "You wish I slept with you." You retort.

He eyes you trying to assess your curves hidden by the layers of fleece you're wearing and then scoffs.

"Don't get your hopes up. There's plenty of hotter people out there." "But you want me to wank you." "Only because me having an erection offends you. With that gone you can stop clutching your pearls." "Oh, now you're in for it, Gavey!" You Grab him by his horrid jumper to pull him closer to you. "Stop painting me like some sort of blushing prude!" "Make me." He says.

In the darkness you can't see how enlarged his pupils are, but you can feel his cock swell when his hands pull your hips closer to his.

You know you should let all of this go, laugh in his face, perhaps, and then try to sleep, but you've never been able to refuse a dare, never in your life you had ever backed down from a fight, you're not going to start now, not with him involved!

You crash your lips against his, kissing him aggressively and he responds with equal ferocity, one hand in your hair to keep your face slanted against his. He bites down your lower lip and you moan, hips kicking against his erection, while his tongue invades your mouth, possessive in his attempt to make you submit.

You're not letting him have all the control, not when you can curl one leg around the side of his hip to ground your cunt against his erection, forcing him to cease his attack, his head turning to the side, a long whine escaping his pretty lips. Why do the assholes have the loveliest mouth and eyelashes?

You turn him on his back, your hips working his, your cunt sliding against his trapped erection: you want him to come into his pants, you want to punish him for being such an asshole. Shame him, even!

You pin him on the bed, your hands on his shoulder so you can ground faster against him, your cunt wet and safe in your pants as he moans and tries to buckle under you, his torso tries to arch when you get the angle perfectly and reduce him to his baser instincts, to his rough cock trapped under layers of clothes, the pain of it sliding against the cotton of his briefs and the pleasure curling at the base of his spine.

He doesn't want to let go like this, like a schoolboy, but you've put all your weight on his hips and are grounding and grounding against his cock, your lower lip trapped between your teeth doesn't stop your whines when his head bumps against your clit, your pleasure becomes his and he comes in his briefs, panting and moaning, small whines of overstimulation when you don't stop moving. But your whole weight is not on his hips anymore, and that's your mistake.

His mind is still hazy, the pleasure you've subjected him to is like a cloud, but he's not going to have a better chance at getting the upper hand than now that you are breathless and moving lazily over him.

Like manacles, his hands curl on the meat of your hips and he turns you on your back and uses his legs to keep your nice and spread, his fingers slide inside under your panties to find your cunt.

"Let's see what we have here." His voice is still laced with the pleasure you've given him but holds an edge that makes you shiver. "You're drenched." "Says the pot to the kettle."

Two of his long fingers in your cunt erase any more smart comments on your part, his thumb on your clit has you moan and and arch under him. He's found that spot easily and bullies it mercilessly, the same way you did his trapped cock: you're going to come for him and then he's going to fuck you the way you deserve.

You grab at him, your nails scratching down his jumper, high pitched squeals of pleasure leave your open mouth, you look at him desperate, small tears gather at the corner of your eyes as his fingers fuck you faster and force your walls to accept their invasion, and he moans at the thought of your muscles wounding around his cock, sucking him in, strangling him.

"Michael!" You beg, your legs tremble, hips pumping fast to follow his punishing rhythm. "Come, now!"

You don't know what breaks you, his fingers or his thumb on your swollen clit, or maybe the command in his voice, the knot in your belly snaps and you come with a shout, back arched to the point of pain, eyes closed that don't see his dark expression.

You're trying to catch your breath, eyes still closed when you feel Michael's fingers at the hem of your pants as he tries to undress you.

"I'm too tired." You slur. "I'm not." One of his hands takes yours and puts it on his erection. "I'm not done with you."

Reflexively your fingers curl around his manhood, your brain truly realizing how well endowed he is.

"Do you have a permit for that?"

High on endorphins you has a terrible sense of humor, not that he cares, he wants your cunt, not your brain.

"I just need a condom." "Bedside table. Small box."

Michael stares at you, spread out and already fucked out on the bed, how beautiful and tempting you are, he only wishes he could see you naked, lick your skin and bite every inch of your body, until you beg him to stop, suck on your tits until they're bruised and your nipples over sensitive. Eat your cunt until you pass out and wake you up with his cock fucking you. He has to curl his hand around his base, or he'll come in his pants, again and he doesn't want to waste his erection like that, he wants you to milk him for all he's worth.

You're staring at him under your eyelashes, who would have thought that math nerd extraordinaire Michael Gavey could give you an orgasm that made your legs tremble?

He's pretty, you realize as you observe him bathed by moonlight while he rummages through the contents of your bedside table, long fingers and a shapely nose, a truly breathtaking chiseled face; if only his personality were better, he could have all the girls fawning over him!

"Oh Christ!"

You realize you've said it out loud when he smirks with one hand at the base of his impressive cock: he's going to split you in two.

"Pull your pants down." "I'm cold." You whine. "Bloody hell what a pain you are!"

He hasn't undressed, he has just pulled his trousers and underwear down enough to free his straining cock, you do the same and shiver: whatever heath the furnace had maintained, is now gone. You're grateful when he pulls the covers over your bodies, after he's made his way between your spread legs.

"Go slow, please?" His impressive manhood truly scares you, you've never had something that big inside of you.

He regards you with an unreadable expression. Part of him wants to punish you for the way you had made him come, but he wants you to enjoy what he's about to do or he'll never get a chance at doing this ever again, if he's hurt you.

"I will, relax."

He tries to use a gentle tone with you, something that doesn't come easy to him, the trust he sees in your eyes makes him want to make fun of you like he always does, but his cock is pulsating in his hand, it hurts and strains towards your wet cunt. Nice and slow, he needs to go nice and slow.

You whine when his broad head pushes inside your drenched hole, your hands instinctively go to his chest to push him away and he stops, letting you adjust to his size before he starts pushing in, short movements that open you up slowly with squelching sounds and moans of pleasure.

You sound better than any porn he's ever watched, all desperate, as if he's hurting you, your whines go to his cock, your muscles apply the perfect amount of pressure and he almost topples over the edge. He has to stop midway to breath and concentrate, a difficult task with your sinful hips moving slowly against him, your hole truly tries to suck him in, the way he had imagined. You want him as badly as he wants you and that excites him beyond belief.

He's so thick it feels like he's splitting you in two, yet your cunt hungers for him, your muscles clench around his him and you have to relax, let him open you up to his invasion, mold your cunt to accept his cock, feel every nerve spark with pleasure as he enters you and every inch of his manhood slides against your walls.

You arch your back when he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours as your last brain cell marvels at the way your hole has sucked him in completely: you're so full and stretched like never before that you'd purr, if you could.

A long whine escapes your lips when he bends forward to cage you with his arms, his eyes observing every small expression dancing on your features, the pleasure he sees only enhancing his desire.

His first pushes are short and slow, he testes your reaction and almost chokes on his tongue when your hips start following his, your muscles curling around his erection.

"Faster Michael, please!"

Your fingers find the skin of his back, your nails rake down his spine, the small pain spurring him on to fuck you with deeper and faster pushes, his lips hovering over yours, as he drinks down all the delicious sounds you are making, your cunt a squelching mess around his cock. He just needs to adjust his aim and he finds your g-spot, your whines make him bully it with faster pushes that have you squirm under him, your legs curling impossibly tight around his hips, his cock forcing your muscles to open, to take it like the whore you are, his whore.

You've lost control of your body, the only thing you feel is his massive cock in your cunt, pushing against your g-spot and his thumb on your abused clit, both movements fast and unforgiving as you try to beg for mercy, for pleasure, deaf to his words of praise and degradation, to him demeaning you for needing his cock, for liking the way he's fucking you. Nothing else matters but the pleasure burning through your nerves, but the coil in your belly that's curling and curling, until everything goes white and you come, the hold of your cunt so tight that Michael follows you with three deep pushes and a moan.

Michael is tired and wired up at the same time. His body is wasted, yet he can't fall asleep the way you did, all curled up against him, trusting and cute, with your hair around your head like an halo and one hand in his. Fucking the agoraphobic girl had been a great way to learn how to pleasure someone, if he has to go by the all the delicious sounds you made, sounds he wants to hear again and again, until whatever hold you have on him disappears. He knows he is not in love, he is not hardwired for that, but feels this unspeakable attraction towards you, this need to possess and consume you to his heart's content; the power outrage and him challenging you the chances he couldn't waste to slip through your walls and use your good heart and your pride to get to your cunt: you have been so easy to read from the moment he had started studying you like he would a mathematical problem. Now the real issue is to find a way to make this arrangement last, love or not, he's hooked on you and he's not going to let go, not until he's sated and can stop thinking about you and imagining you while he's having a wank: you've been the star of his spank bank from the first time he's seen you, despite your sunny disposition towards the word, the very thing that irks him. Michael knows he needs you out of his system in order to ignore you the way he does all his peers, having you as many times as he needs the only solution to the problem at hand. And you will, he'll make sure of that.

#answered #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey

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am-i-interrupting · 1 month

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Hey there! Can I get some headcanons for Alastor and Rosie with a female Best friend/ s/o respectively (cause y'know, Al's an 'Ace in the hole' lol) who's a singer and does covers of modern music in old-timey styles like postmodern jukebox?

Rosie and Alastor frequent different speakeasies and clubs often together.

Soon after Alastor’s return they restarted the tradition and that’s where they met you.

You were performing a cover of a song neither had ever heard before.

You were good. You were amazing. Fantastically.

Rosie was immediately smitten.

You walked down off the stage, placing a delicate hand in a demon’s outstretched one to help you down the stairs.

You practically floated around the floor and even convinced several people to dance with you.

“They’re rather good.” “Yes, indeed.”

When you approached their tables, dragged your hand along the back of both their seats and placed an outstretched hand between the two of them.

Alastor declined it, noticing Rosie’s specific brand of infatuation. In fact, the bastard baited you both and reached for your hand only to grab Rosie’s and place it there.

He can be a wing man if he wants to be.

The three of you met after that initial performance and were often found together.

Often Alastor would be on the end of Rosie’s thoughtless rambles about you as she flitted around. She called your voice angelic a lot.

Rosie would attend every single one of your performances. Alastor would attend them when he could or particularly wanted to. He wouldn’t rearrange his plans to see them unlike Rosie.

When the Hotel was rebuilt and the welcoming party was being planned, Alastor immediately suggested you be a performer for the night.

Alastor may or may not have sent his shadows to place a note and a specific outfit he’d noticed Rosie really liked on your bed the day of.

One would imagine Rosie would have dressed for the occasion as well. I’m imagining this fanart because I’m in love with them both.

Alastor, of course, welcomed you with a specific brand of hostility.

He made sure you were comfortable, had everything you needed, any instrument you required would appear with a shadow playing it, and he did make sure to compliment you.

You didn’t see Rosie until you were onstage about to preform on stage.

She was sitting beside Alastor, so beautiful.

You felt almost scandalized seeing her in something that revealed her arms, much less her back and legs.

You immediately went flushed and walked off stage, put a hand in Husk’s shoulder where he was sitting at the bar nearby and took his drink from him (not registering that it was not one he was drinking but instead using to mix a drink for Angel so. . . good luck) and basically started chugging.

You patted his shoulder, gave him his bottle back (he just stared at it and looked at Angel who burst out laughing), then went back to the stage.

You started singing. Song after song, all on stage which was odd for you.

Then you caught Rosie’s eye at the end of a song and Alastor’s shadows started playing a different rhythm.

Feeling the effects of Husks’s drink take hold, you got off the stage.

You went to Rosie and held out your hand specifically to her. Still, Alastor pulled the same move of puppeting her hand, just for old time’s sake.

You moved so you were behind her and pulled her close to you, feeling her warmth and skin against yours and maybe you were in Hell but it was heaven.

You led her in a tango and then she led you and then you were— you both led each other.

At one point, body moving before you mind could process, you kissed her exposed shoulder.

She flushed a bright red.

Charlie went to Alastor and asked if you two were dating. Surprised to hear no.

Everyone watched on anyway because not often did people see Rosie dance and with you two so in sync it was mesmerizing.

You ended the dance with spinning which led to a dip.

Rosie actually, spurred on by the feeling of your hands on her back and the adrenaline of a dance, hooked her leg over yours and used her arm around your shoulders to pull you into a kiss.

Angel absolutely whistled.

You both pulled away flustered.

Maybe you ran off, maybe you didn’t.

Either way, Rosie turned to Alastor who gave her a thumbs up as she sat down. A smile on her lips as her hand traveled to it.

To Alastor, though, that wasn’t the most shocking part of the night.

For him, it was when he heard Charlie saying she was going see if she could commission you to do cover some of her favorite songs and compile them into a playlist.

And upon questioning her, he was informed you covered modern songs.

#I think this is the first headcanon that’s not NSFT I’ve used a readmore for #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

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koolades-world · 5 months

Text

Behind the Scenes

All it took was the watchful eye of your best man.

“How was yer day?” Mammon took your bag from you as the two of you began the walk home from RAD together.

“Uneventful mostly, but not bad. The fact that you were there during Seductive Speechcraft today was more than enough to turn my day around.” You turn and smile at him.

“What’d ya mean?” He glanced over at you.

"Just a bad day. Having you at my side make it better." You try to deflect.

"What happened?" He reached out to grab your hand, which you took.

"A couple things." You avoid his gaze.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Mammon stopped you in your tracks by standing in front of you. He looks right into your eyes, and holds your chin in his hands.

“You’re so caring Mams, but I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” You place a hand on his arm, trying to continue walking. He stops you, holding you close.

"Ya've been havin' bad days for a while now. What's the root? Ya can't hide this from me." You sigh, realize the jig is up.

"There's been this demon at RAD who's been picking on me. Today he stole my Potions homework, shouldered me into my locker, and almost drowned me in the bathroom. Thankfully the professor let me off since I never forget my work at home, but next time I might not be so lucky." You admit.

"He what? Forget the whole homework thing, I'll kill the bastard. Who did this to you? You gotta tell me about this stuff. Where does it hurt? Tell me the truth." Silently, you lift one of your sleeves to reveal the bruise you got from being slammed into the locker and pull down the collar of your uniform reveal the outline of fingers on the back of your neck. You wince at the memory. “What were ya planning to do? Suffer in silence? Mc, I don’t tell ya enough that I love ya.” He cupped your face in his hands, speaking to you gently.

“Usually when this happens, I just use a spell to cover it since I'm not good enough at healing magic yet. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you and I’m sorry for worrying you, but he…” You trail off, glancing around. “I don’t think I should even be telling you this.” Mammon looks at you, then around the both of you as well.

“Ya know damn well ya can tell me anythin’. Fuck him. If ya want, ya can wait until we get home.” Mammon knew whoever this demon was wouldn’t dare to both you while he was around.

“I want to wait until we get home.” You said. That was the only thing you had been sure about that entire conversation. Mammon, instead of letting you walk, opted to carry you, insisting it was for your own good. You couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia, that he was somehow listening and that you said too much.

One you both arrived home, Mammon sat you down in the living room and called over everyone that was home. In a matter of minutes, Levi, Satan, and Asmo were gathered around you, concerned at how oddly serious Mammon had approached them. While you sat silently, Mammon explained. You could see the rage blossoming on Satan’s face, and the horror on Levi and Asmo’s.

“Sweetie, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Asmo cuddled you in a similar way that Mammon did when he found out.

“I was afraid…” You search their faces for their reactions.

“What did he say to you?” Asmo asked.

“He told me he would hurt my family if I told anyone. Not you guys, my human family. I haven’t seen them in so long and I didn’t want anything to happen to them. I really miss them. He said it would be fun to…” You couldn’t continue. A silent tear makes its way down your face. Mammon wiped it away.

“You don’t have to continue.” Asmo pulled you in closer to him.

“What’s his name?” Satan speaks up for the first time. His face was a little red and his eye has begun to tick, but looked eerily calm otherwise. To the untrained eye, it may have looked like he was calming down, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

“Please don’t hurt him.” You begged them.

“Why?” Levi, who had also been silent, nervously asked.

“He must have a reason for acting the way he has been. He probably has a family, and friends. I don’t think he deserves to be hurt, just maybe talked to.” Asmo gripped you hand tighter at your words and swept some hair out of your face.

“We’ll see what we can do, honey.” Asmo exchanged glances with his brothers. “How about this? We take you to Purgatory Hall to spend time with whoever’s there right now while we go talk to Lucifer, Belphie, and Beel.” He asked you.

“Can’t it wait? What if he’s listening?” You pleaded.

“I can assure you if he is out there and dares to act on his threats, I will see to it personally.” Satan’s tick was stronger and more noticeable.

“Anyways, I trust Sol with my life! If there’s anyone I would let look after you, it’s him.” Asmo told you.

“Ok, if you’re really sure. I trust you. Thanks guys. Can I have a hug?” You rose from your stop to be swarmed by the four demons around you. They took care to not hurt you more. You felt safe in the middle of them.

All of them personally went with you to drop you off at Purgatory Hall. Simeon answered the door, and as soon as he took in the scene, his usual smile faded and called for Solomon. Mammon explained the situation, to which they promptly agreed to help. As Asmo transferred you to Simeon, you heard Solomon asking them to save him a piece. It send a sharp shiver down your spine. As soon as the door shut, their facades dropped.

“They never told us his name. Even if it means I have to check every student at RAD, I will. After all, there can only be so many who meet his description.” Asmo chuckled. Satan was still doing his best to hold in his explosive rage until they were far enough from Purgatory Hall.

“Levi, take Satan somewhere to decompress for a while. We’ll reconvene here once we find the others.” Mammon took out his DDD and began making the calls he needed. Asmo also took out his DDD to check as many Devilgram accounts as he could to see if anyone looked particularly guilty.

As soon as Lucifer found out, he practically flew out of the place to meet up with his brothers. It was easy to see the similarities between him and Satan at this point. Belphie and Beel weren’t far behind. It was rare to see them both so agitated. The three of them quickly went in to see you, to see for themselves that you were ok, and to ask for the name of who has been bothering you. After much coaxing, they finally got it. Lucifer made Simeon promise to heal you, and with that, they vanished again. You didn’t know what to think, and hoped they would adhere to their promise.

Once they found him, they didn’t know what to do first. Question him or get straight to what they were there for: to make him pay for what he did. Each of them had their own idea, that they would never dare tell you. While you were safe and sound at Purgatory Hall, the brothers were having the time of their lives. It was a side of them they would never let you see; the side of them that truly reveled in misery and pain.

That demon vanished.

About a week and a half later, he reappeared a changed demon. He apologized for everything he did and remained out of your way from then on. He seemed physically fine, but was a different demon altogether. He was much nicer, and quieter. His friends avoided you like the plague, afraid of something you didn't understand. In fact, after that, everyone treated you like gold if they didn't already. You weren't stupid. You knew the brothers did something but nobody dared tell you. It was a little uncanny as everyone outside your household was pretending nothing had happened in the first place.

But the brothers were kinder, if possible. They kept bringing you small trinkets and gifts, like flowers and anything they thought you would like. They checked up on you more frequently and took you out more frequently. They always made sure you had everything you wanted even if you didn't ask for it. They even arranged for you to see your family in the human world with one accompanying you, although you suspected the others were watching from a distance. It was still chilling to think about what they did to that demon to make them stop so suddenly upon their return, or where they even went, but you settled on never knowing what they did. You just took their gestures at face value and appreciated them for it.

The brothers were glad you were recovering from everything. Anything you refused to tell them, they got out of the perpetrator. Simeon was an amazing healer, and even Lucifer wasn't sure how he brought him back together, mentally and physically. You could never find out.

errrr i don't really like this </3 the concept was more fun but I can't scrap it after how much i put into it

i kinda wanted it more ominous with less words but i think I need more writing practice for that lol

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

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kasagia · 5 months

Text

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 8 (end)❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: Winter Fiesta at Christmas? Great idea. After all, there is no better opportunity to end the drama that has been going on between you and the general than at a huge ball thrown by Lantsov. Word Count: 3,6k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 7 ~•♤♤♤•~

You liked Christmas, but the winter fete that preceded it was a terrible event.

Especially since this year you weren't leaving to visit your brother right away, and in the next few hours you were going to find out whether the man you gave your heart to was really an immortal, power-hungry monster who would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

In hindsight, you would probably prefer to endure the snark and rudeness of your grandparents and your siblings.

You took a shaky breath as you walked out of the Little Palace. At the exit, you met Fedyor and Ivan, who reconciled after Ivan promised to meet his family. The bastard knew it would be impossible this year, so he agreed, but as long as Fedyor is happy about it, then you are too.

Fedor's worse half separates from you as they reach the great hall of the king's palace.

You and Fedyor blend in with the crowd of other Grisha. You manage to grab a glass of champagne and sip it while watching the people around you. You unconsciously look at Alina, which Fedyor immediately notices.

"Are you waiting for the big show?" he asks, referring to the little show of power Alina and Aleksander were about to do.

Luckily, you missed out on being a circus monkey at the party this year (you suspect Aleksander didn't want to anger you more), so all you had to do was try to get through the last few hours as pain-free as possible.

"I can't wait." you say sarcastically, grabbing something sweet from the snack table. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your friend smirking. "What is it? What did you do?"

"I? Nothing at all," he lies, leaning on the table and grabbing something to eat.

"I know you too well for you to lie to me. I've seen this conspiratorial smile more than once. What's going on?" you ask, looking at him carefully and expectantly.

Before you can push him further to speak, Genya joins you, saving the man from your further investigation. She shows you some Inferni tricks. When you look away, they both exchange knowing glances, and Fedyor silently thanks her for saving him.

"You look pretty." Genya comments, turning to you as the three of you eat the sweets. Take advantage of the opportunity while you can. In the Little Palace, you rarely ate anything other than those nasty herrings. "I like your earrings. Moonstone, right?"

"David made them for me. Initially, they were supposed to be… something else, but he had enough material to make me earrings as well."

"Yes, he is very talented. And what was most of it he spent on making?" she asks curiously as you three walk to a more distant part of the room where there are much fewer people.

"A ring."

"A ring? I don't see any on your finger."

"It wasn't supposed to be for me. Christmas gift." you explain vaguely.

The ring was supposed to be for Aleksander... no proposal or anything else. He recently lost his ring, so you asked David to make him a new one, practically the same as his old one but with a piece of moonstone inside.

"Oh, I see. You know, David told me that the moonstone has… a very special meaning," she says teasingly.

"Really? And how often do the two of you talk like that?" you ask just as teasingly, and she blushes too.

You both laugh, and only now do you notice that Fedyor has also disappeared somewhere, leaving you and Genya alone.

"May I ask who that special gift is?"

"I... I haven't decided yet." you tell her what is actually true.

This evening was to decide everything. That evening, Aleksander was to put his plan into action. If he really decided to use Alina in his plans... you had a backup plan ready. Which you hoped you wouldn't have to use.

You notice Aleksander as soon as he enters the room.

And you are speechless at the sight of him.

At the sight of his black kefta embroidered with red threads.

He gives you a short, meaningful look and goes to greet the royal family. You turn immediately towards Genya with a questioning look, and she simply shrugs.

"He wanted a matching kefta." she explains, but she frowns at your growing excitement. "But I want you to be careful. He's… a powerful man. Even if you tamed him a little."

You are going to deny her words, defend him, and say that he is not as bad as everyone makes him out to be, but you are speechless for the second time when soon after Alina enters the room in a black kefta with gold embroidery.

You shake your head, laughing bitterly.

"Apparently not." you say, staring at Alin with envy. The bitter bile of jealousy and hurt wells up inside you as you try to focus on your anger rather than the tears welling up in your eyes.

Genya stares at her as surprised as you, searching for someone in the crowd.

"I don't understand… after all…"

"Don't worry, I understand." you say firmly and coldly, making the redhead shiver. You ignore her, staring at Alina as she approaches Aleksander from behind, surprising him when she smiles sweetly at him. "And I'm not going to be part of this fucking threesome."

You leave Genya alone before she can say anything. You don't stay for the Alina and General show. You just walk out, pushing your way through the crowd and finding the back exit where the fewest guards are patrolling. All you wanted was to disappear into the shadows.

Aleksander looked for you frantically after Alina approached him. But he doesn't see you anywhere. You left Genya alone, and he wasn't able to spot you in the crowd.

He did his little show with the Sun Summoner and left her with her friends. He moved quickly towards the exit, catching Genya's gaze. The woman immediately followed him. They both left the room and went into the corridor, where Fedyor was already waiting for them.

"What happened there?" he asks them furiously. "Who gave her that damn kefta? That wasn't the plan."

"Um… David saw Baghra leaving the Grand Palace."

Aleksander frowns in anger at Fedyor's words. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths to calm himself down. His mother always had to destroy everything that was good. He should've predicted it.

"And where is she now?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Baghra?" Fedyor asks hesitantly as Genya gently moves towards him.

"Y/N!!" they both tremble when they hear him shouting. Shadows circle him, giving him an even more ominous look. He sighs when he sees the fear in their eyes, and with a wave of his hand, everything returns to normal. “I meant Y/N.” he says more calmly, slightly embarrassed by his sudden outburst.

"We do not know. David followed her, but she vanished from his sight."

"Vanished?" Fedyor nods. Aleksander immediately thinks of his mother. Only she and he knew the exact location of the hidden corridors in the Grand and Little Palace. She had to take you. Convince you finally that he is a monster. "I want our men at every exit gate around the castle, at every exit and entrance, and at the sewers that lead from here. As soon as you see her, you are to capture her and alert the rest."

"Baghra or Y/N?"

"Both!" he says angrily, walking towards the exit of the palace. "And you two are to guard the Sun Summoner. I don't want her to disappear too."

He doesn't go far before Ivan catches up with him with the news that there was an attack on Alina. He freezes in his steps. It cannot be split.

He can either look for you or protect the Sun Summoner.

And the choice is simple for him.

You kept your hand pressed tightly to your mouth to keep from making any sound as you walked down the hall of the Grand Palace. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, somehow making their way through your hand and into your mouth so you could taste the saltiness of your defeat.

He chose Alina. Actually, both of you, but what difference did it make? You made it clear to him that you wouldn't be just another pushover in his life, just another face among many others. You wanted everything or nothing. Nothing half-hearted, no half-truths, and no being THE OTHER WOMEN.

As you walk and cry, you don't notice something suddenly moving in the shadows, and listening to the heartbeat of someone who might be hiding in a secret passageway in the hall is the last thing on your mind right now.

That's how someone grabs you tightly by the arm in an aching hug and drags you along with them to the hidden exit of the castle. You struggle and freeze, both shocked and irritated, as you see who caught you.

"Baghra? What the hell do you want?" you ask irritably, not wanting her to see you like this. You pull your hand from her grip and wipe the remaining tears from your face.

"I'm helping you, child. Do you think Aleksander won't send people after you who will lead you back to him like some pet?"

"I don't need your help." you growl, backing away from her in anger.

"You think so? So c'mon. Go, run away by yourself. I am sure he will find you. Maybe he will even put a collar on you too. You, Alina and Aleksander will have so much fun together."

You stand still, listening to her words like poison. You shake your head and turn to face her, watching her smirk with spite.

"You know what? I'm not surprised that he... that he thinks what he's doing is right. If he told me even a little bit of the truth about himself, then I know how you treated him. How you shaped him. So don't be surprised that your son became what he became when all you showed him was how to take advantage of other people and how to not care about anyone but his own goals and needs. Maybe if you hadn't run away from all those who are supposedly not worthy of your attention and hadn't taught him the same things, he would have turned out completely differently. Maybe if you saw him as something more than a creator of the fold, a Black Heretic, everything would be different. And don't worry. I can handle everything perfectly on my own."

You leave her in the secret corridor and don't look back as you return to the main halls of the Grand Palace.

Aleksander was furious. No one saw you, no one could find you. He ran out of the Little Palace and headed straight for the stables. You had to sneak out somehow. He hoped that maybe he would ride his horse around the area and find you.

He doesn't wait for the horseboy. He approaches his horse and saddles it quickly and expertly. He has his foot in the stirrup when he hears movement near the entrance.

"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, leaning against the entrance with your arms crossed.

He freezes, blinking a few times, making sure you're not some sort of vision, ghost, or other creature tormenting him. When he realises you're standing there in your body, he jumps off his horse and runs towards you. He hugs you to his chest and buries his nose in your hair. He lets out a shaky breath, inhaling your scent.

"Saints, where have you been?" he asks, not letting you move away from him. He needs to feel you close.

"On the way. Far from here. I turned back when I heard that there was an attack on Alina. Did anything happen to anyone?" you ask worriedly, moving away from him. He doesn't let you go far, just enough to look at him.

"I… I don't know." he admits, embarrassed, and you frown, looking at him in disbelief.

"How don't you know?"

"I left. I left Ivan, Fedyor, and Zoya in charge. I… I had to find you."

His confession makes your heart melt, and you bite your lips, holding back the sudden urge to kiss him. Your brain gets back on track as you start to think again about how your friends and other Grisha handle another attack on Sun Summoner.

"We have to come back to them." you tell him as you somehow manage to get out of his grasp and turn towards the exit.

"Wait... please." he says this and quickly overtakes you, blocking your only escape route. You stare into his dark eyes for a moment before shifting your gaze to his horse, which is watching the two of you closely. He doesn't let you take your eyes off him for long. He gently grabs your chin and forces you to meet his pleading gaze. "Talk to me."

"About what? We have nothing to talk about." you say, glaring at him defiantly.

Common sense screams at you to run away from him. He wasn't just the red flag; he was the whole red carpet. But how can you leave him when those dark eyes look at you so pleadingly, when he clings to you like to the anchor, like to the only thing that holds him sane?

"If that were true, you'd be on your way, far away. I know you could get through all those people I put on guard, even me. If we didn't have anything to talk about, I… I wouldn't be looking for you like a mad man, leaving the Little Palace in such a situation without my supervision. You know that."

"Why are you wearing a kefta with red embroidery? Why did Alina replace her blue one with a black one? You can't have a cake and eat it at the same time, Aleksander. I want... I want to be the only one for you... as you are the only one for me, even though this shouldn't happen. Even though I know what you did, but... I can't help seeing you as... as someone more than my general or the Darkling. I... please, just don't prove me I am that naive to love you."

You lift your head to look at him just as he leans down to capture your lips with his.

You stand there in shock for a moment, but you respond to his kiss with equal parts fervour, passion, and need. He wraps one hand around your waist, and the other gently cups your cheek, tilting your head to a different side to give him better access to your mouth. You moan into the kiss, grabbing the lapels of his kefta and pulling him even closer to you.

The thought occurs to you that he looks good in red.

His cold fingertips tease the hot skin of your neck as he begins to undo the buttons on your kefta. A shiver runs through you as you break away from him, realising that you two still have a few more things to explain before you can finally let yourself lose yourself in him.

"Wait, wait." he listens to you and immediately pulls away from you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He licks his lips and is about to ask you a question when you interrupt him. "Nothing happened. You didn't do anything wrong; I just need to know. What about Alina? And the fold?"

"She means nothing to me. She is nothing compared to you. She is just a means to an end, and I… might have changed my plans a little bit."

"What do you mean?" you ask, crossing your arms. He sighs and looks at you for a long time before answering.

"I'm not known for making noble decisions. But know that everything I do—everything I wanted to do—I did for Grisha's sake. And I admit... these were not good for everyone. I wanted to seduce Alina. Make her trust me, make her rely only on me, and take advantage of her. But then I promoted you. I needed help with the papers—someone who wouldn't question my authority and for whom Grisha's well-being was as important as mine. And you ruined all my plans after the first day when you argued with me about sending our people through the fold. I... for the first time in hundreds of years, I had someone who wasn't afraid to say what she thought. Someone who respected my opinion even if she didn't agree with it. I felt that… that I didn't have to be this monster around you, that I didn't have to keep up my image. That I don't have to be a Darkling for you to respect me. And I know I'm far from being a good man, but with you... with you, I remember what I was like before all this happened, before this whole thing with the fold. What I was fighting for. What I believed in. I thought that that man died a long time ago, but with you, I am... I can be just my old self. The one I really missed. The only one of many of my... well, version of myself that I didn't play or create for survival purposes. I live with you. Not just keep fighting to survive for the better times. So please believe me that when I say I love you, I say it from the deepest truth, from the remnants of my heart that I still have after the centuries I have lived. The remnants that you picked up and brought back to life, my little almighty heartrender. You don't have to want me back. I don't suspect you will… just please don't leave. Don't leave me again alone in my darkness."

And what can you say? What can you do other than go up to him and kiss him like you've never kissed anyone else? You don't know who is more surprised—you, him, or that damned horse neighing in the background, ruining your perfect moment. But you don't care. You kiss your shadow summoner and try to convince him that, from now on, he will never be alone. At least as long as you breathe.

"I have something for you," you say later that night as you lie in his arms in his bed.

After your little make-out session, you returned to the Little Palace and took care of everything. Baghra was gone, Alina was safe (with Mal returning after Aleksander had abandoned his search for the deer), and everyone in the palace had somehow survived another attack.

"I don't need anything except for you to stop squirming so much," he murmurs into your neck, tightening his grip on you as you try to reach for your kefta, which is discarded on the floor next to the bed.

"Aleksander!” you squeal, laughing when he touches the sensitive spot on your waist, making you tickle. "Don't you dare." you say, seeing his malicious look. "I'm serious. Tickle me, and I'll fly out the door, not caring who sees me naked."

"I'll remember that." he huffs, offended, and buries his face in your neck. His beard tickles your skin, and even more tickles your sensitive skin, where he left a few hickeys on it.

You somehow manage to reach into your kefta and take out a canvas pouch. You place it on Alexander's chest, smiling excitedly as he pulls away from you gently and takes the item, examining it in his hands.

"What is it?"

"Your Christmas' gift. Open it."

He doesn't question your order. He pulls you towards him so that you're sitting between his legs and leaning against his chest. He hugs you, holding you close to him and resting his chin on your head as he opens his pouch and selects a ring. You feel him hold his breath, and his heart speeds up.

"Don't worry; I'm not proposing to you. I'm not crazy enough to do it so quickly. Besides, I'm quite a traditionalist when it comes to this. I'll wait for my ring. I just know you lost yours somewhere and… I thought it would be a nice gift."

"Is this a moonstone?" you nod at his question.

"Do you like it?"

He doesn't answer. He places a kiss on your head and hands you the ring. He sticks out his left hand, obviously wanting you to put it on his finger.

You do it with trembling hands. It looks good on his finger. And the possessive thought crosses your mind that he is truly yours now.

"I have nothing for you, milaya. You'll have to wait before I pick up your gift from David and Genya." you turn around in his arms with a smile.

"I already have my gift. You let me warm your heart. That's all I wanted." he gives you that charming smile and kisses you. You smile against his lips, feeling his arms around you again as he pins you to the mattress to shower you with kisses again, hickeys and all his attention, whispering against your skin with every kiss how much he loves you and needs you.

And in the morning, you find a beautiful black kefta with red embroidery and a ring that matches the one you gave him. And as you hear his heartbeat against yours, you decide it's the best Christmas you've ever had.

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on.

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards.

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us.

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels.

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass.

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick.

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail.

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered.

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down.

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back.

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette.

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering.

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her.

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open.

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy.

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand.

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger.

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident.

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission.

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while.

There. You finally saw it.

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest.

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby.

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude.

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?”

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away.

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin.

He was watching you.

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd.

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target.

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team.

“He’s here.”

Annie was no longer backstage.

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm.

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room.

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard.

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine.

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much.

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept.

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular.

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous.

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm.

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you.

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room.

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you.

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand.

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides.

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips.

Show time, you told yourself.

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger.

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table.

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment.

And distracted, for as long as he let you.

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early.

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage.

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down.

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow.

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh.

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk.

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger.

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze.

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin.

“Depends,” you said coyly.

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him.

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish.

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied.

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer.

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap.

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one.

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile.

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed.

Yes, if you were honest with yourself.

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance.

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin.

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair.

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back.

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand…

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks.

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath.

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk.

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin.

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said.

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were.

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust.

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.”

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant.

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you.

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now.

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun.

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell.

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.”

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient.

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.”

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?”

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer.

“All right,” he shrugged.

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand.

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy.

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up.

You knew what came next.

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns.

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin.

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard.

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup.

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed.

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump.

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist.

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again.

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop.

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage.

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car.

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume.

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were.

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house.

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you.

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie.

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you.

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester

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theoldsports · 6 months

Note

Hi, i want to request a remus x reader, where its a girls night before lily's wedding and they play a spicy truth or dare, where reader realises she needs to ask remus out.

tradition.

FIRST REQUEST SORRY THIS TOOK TIME

1.7k

Bachelorette parties were a time honored tradition where the bride-to-be wore heels that were too tall to be worn drunk and got legendarily plastered with about seven of her worst behaved friends. Lily Evans (soon to be Potter) was almost an exception, but Dorcas bought her these platform go-go boots and it felt rude not to wear them.

Lily assumed the event would be less of a nightmare if [Y/N] planned it, as Dorcas usually took things too far. This way, Lily could almost guarantee that there would be no Chip and Dale-type striper dressed as the left-winger chaser from Puddlemere United. [Y/N] was therefore the most convenient choice for Maid of Honour.

Carefully, the bridal party made their way out of the Three Broomsticks and hauled themselves up the hill to do the rest of the night in Godric’s Hollow. All of them were too far gone to apparate. Sirius had taken James and the boys who knows where for a Bachelor party so the girls could use the house that night. The ‘girls’ consisted of Lily and [Y/N], Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald, Marlene McKinnon, and Alice Fortesque; basically the contents of their dormitory at school. The seven hung off each other and giggled as old friends as they walked.

“Never thought you’d be the first of us!” Marlene cried in glee, shaking her sharply bobbed dark hair out of her face. “I can’t get over it. Simply.”

“Oh, come off it!” Lily groaned. She was awfully tired of hearing this same banter recycled day in and day out.

Dorcas laughed. “Well, yeah. Marls is right. You hated your poor bastard Potter, for, like, forever. I thought first in and out of the binding contract of marriage was to be Alice and Frankie for sure.”

The most sober player of the evening, Alice, sighed. “Sorry that we’re patient.”

[Y/N] let out a firm laugh, pulling Lily’s set of keys out of her pocket as the house entered their line of view. “Bold assumptions from both Dorcas and Marlene considering you both told me you were gonna marry Sirius Black when you were fifteen or something.” [Y/N] said. Her comment illicited silence from Dorcas and Marlene rampant giggled from Mary, Lily and Alice.

With their Godric’s Hollow destination reached, [Y/N] unlocked the door with some difficulty. The seven flooded inside. Before Mary could loudly announce how bad she had to piss again, [Y/N] asked: “I’ve got a quick question ‘bout Black, actually,” everyone seemed very interested because everyone [Y/N] knew was in love with Sirius Black - unfortunately. “How many of you’v’fucked him? Just… Show off hands.”

Many groans of malcontent echoed through the room. Dorcas and Marlene raised their hands without hesitation, but instead with a bit of regret. Mary’s hand slowly went up with a sigh. Lily and Alice exchanged some knowing looks but both resisted a comment. “Bloody hell, ladies. Is he actually packin’ or something? He’s not that tall, so… Nice hair, but if he weren’t one of my mates, I’d just say he’s average. How does he keep pulling like this?” [Y/N] asked incredulously.

As Mary left finally to piss, Marlene bit back at [Y/N]. “Honestly, I think he’s just charming. Like, something about the smile, the leather jacket. Plus, he’s so fuckin’… noble, like. Yeah?”

“Noble? A guy’s a better fuck ‘cause he’s ‘noble?’” [Y/N] sighed.

“You know what I mean.” Marlene said and Dorcas nodded in agreement.

Dorcas piped up. “Well, [Y/N]. You may be the next among us. Ain’t the Maid of Honour and the… What’s it called? Man of Honour—“

“—Best Man.” Alice correct, pouring herself a sipper of firewhiskey.

“Ain’t the Maid of Honour and the Best Man meant to fuck? After the wedding?” Dorcas finished.

[Y/N]’s eyes widened. “No. Superstition. Clearly. I… Right, Lily?”

Lily’s playful grin widened as she pulled off her go-go boots and tossed her auburn hair into a messy bun. “Well, seeing as neither of you have a real date, then have at it. It’s tradition.”

“That’s vile. You’re vile.”

Mary walked back in from the bathroom. “Who’s vile?”

“Lily. Or Sirius. Can’t remember. Maybe both.” Marlene clarified.

“Ah, he is ‘packing,’ by the way. If nobody’s said that yet.”

[Y/N] was tired of everyone pushing her buttons because she had been single for a while. Single, yes. Desperate enough to shag Sirius Black, no. “Fabian Prewett was not worth all the trouble to keep that relationship going just to have a date to your wedding.” She said.

“He was so pretty!” Dorcas remarked, a drunken slur apparent in her voice.

“Yeah, and he was also a prick. Anyway, there’s no sense in finding someone with, like, days til the wedding.”

Lily sighed loudly. She knew what she was doing. It was that sort of sigh that baited someone to ask why one was sighing.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, scoffing.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Strained silence as all the other girls leaned into listen. “Oh, I’m sure. What’s the problem here?”

“James said one of his boys also doesn’t have a date to the—“ Lily started.

“You already implied Sirius—“

“Remus. Rem doesn’t have anyone.”

A longer, more strained silence.

Marlene gasped. “Holy fuckin’ shit. You should finally ask Remus out.”

“Finally? What do you mean finally? He’s my best mate.” [Y/N] said incredulously.

The other girls shared groans of indignation or shouts of surprise. “Dear, every boy you’ve ever been out with looks like a cheap knock-off of Loony Loopy Lupin. You have to have noticed.” Marlene pointed out.

“Don’t call him that!” Lily butted in.

“Don’t call him that. He doesn’t like it. And simply, I don’t think that’s true. About the boy thing.” [Y/N] insisted.

“Amos Diggory.” Mary said clearly. Amos had been her very first boyfriend. [Y/N] finally said yes to his obvious advances after Remus took a Slytherin girl his friends all hated to Hogsmeade. Amos had then been the same height and build as Remus, with those aggressively kind eyes. However, he was nothing like Lupin in any other way.

“They’re both tall with brown hair. So’s James for that matter—“

“Amos is just the polite version of Lupin. They’re practically the same bloke.” Mary finished he brutal comment and strolled into the kitchen.

“Tony Dolohov—“ Lily pointed out. Antonin Dolohov had been a rebound repeated hookup after Amos had broken up with [Y/N] since he thought she was too ‘disinterested’ in him. It was familiar commentary that Remus and Dolohov looked similar. They were constantly mistaken for the other from the back in school, despite being completely different as people.

“Was a fling!”

“Evil Lupin…” Dorcas sighed.

[Y/N] was ready for another topic of conversation. “So what? I like tall brunette guys from the countryside. Sue me. Fabian Prewett was from out there too, but he was completely—“

“Mm… Yes. Redheaded, pretentious Lupin.” Dorcas grinned tempestuously.

Mary gasped. “That implies our Lupin isn’t pretentious!”

Alice cleared her throat amidst [Y/N] evident shame and irritation. “If you don’t mind my saying, [Y/N], you’ve been down for that boy since you were about fourteen. Lupin, I mean.”

[Y/N] watched Lily nod drunkenly at wise old Alice’s words. “Call him! Call him right now!”

“Fuck you! No!”

Before [Y/N] could do anything else, Marlene began leading a chant of “call him!” with others shouting such fare as “come on, don’t ruin Lily’s party!” That was when she had to pick up the phone, just to get it to stop.

She stood there, listening to the dial tone hum. “Shit. What number am I ringing? He’s not… He’s with James.”

Lily whipped out her wand from her back pocket and wordlessly summoned a number jotted down on a takeaway menu from who knows where in the kitchen. Lily dictated the number to [Y/N], just to make sure she would actually make the call.

“‘Llo?” Sirius Black slurred on the other line. [Y/N] had often heard him wasted, but he was gone-gone tonight. He spoke too loudly into the receiver. After multiple semesters of Muggle Studies, he still hasn’t mastered the telephone.

“Black, it’s [Y/N].”

“Hey there, love,” Sirius suddenly sounded on edge. The world was a scary place these days and such a call was scary to get this late during a bachelor party. [Y/N] thought he sounded more sober, or tried, after she announced herself. “‘S everything okay…?”

“Hm? Yeah, no. All’ve us are fine. Is Lupin there?”

“What you want with Lupin?” Sirius inquired, his tone sounding much more typical of a drunk Sirius Black.

[Y/N] looked over her shoulder at the expectant faces of the girls and an encouraging thumbs up from Alice. “Uh, drinking game, or something. Put him on. Please.”

Sirius sounded like he dropped the receiver away from his face and called something like “Oi Moony, there’s a foxy bird on the phone for you!” into the room near him. After some shuffling and unintelligible grumbling, Remus’s voice came through on the phone.

“Remus Lupin on,” he said too clearly. The kind of clearness of tone one had when stoned out of their mind and attempting to cover it up. But at least he knew how to use a phone. “Who’s speaking?”

“Lupin, it’s me. It’s [Y/N]. Everything’s fine.”

“Oh. Hi?”

“Yeah, hi. All the boy’s watching you right now?”

“Uh,” a pause. “No, yeah. All of ‘em.”

“Same here. Holding a wand to my chest, basically. You still don’t have a date to the wedding, right?”

A longer pause. “Hm? To the wedding, you said?” He swallowed. Dry mouth from nerves or smoking too much, maybe. “No.”

“Right. Nor have I. Wanna go with me? Since we already both, like, have to go? Figured it’d be fun to go with you,” [Y/N] dropped her voice to a whisper. “Like, go-with-me-go-with-me. Real deal date.”

Too long of a pause.

“Remus? You there?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Sure, I’m here, sure. Also, like, yeah, sure. I mean, yeah. I’ll go with you. If you want, I mean. Yeah.”

[Y/N] sighed in relief. “Brilliant. Pop by before and get me. We’ll go together. Ta.”

With that, she hung up.

“Ta?” Dorcas said dramatically. “Ta? You ask the man out and you close with fuckin’ ‘ta?’”

#remus lupin x reader #harry potter #marauders #remus lupin #remus imagine #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x oc #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you

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noroi1000 · 5 months

Text

Wild Animal 2

Part One

Warnings: Holding in captivity (tied, collar); mentions of sexual things)

Your legs and arms were tied as you lay on the bed. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as the covers were ripped off you and your naked body was exposed to the cooler air. There's a blindfold on your eyes that you can't take off, no matter how you move. Your mouth was tied with a cloth, so you couldn't speak.

You were the curse user. So why did they act like they had so much more experience with it? Even though you felt tied up, it didn't hurt that much, but you couldn't break free.

You could squirm somehow when you felt embarrassed and insecure about being naked, but there was nothing you could do.

You have no control over what's happening.

And the coldness in your body did not disappear because the covering that was on you disappeared. You still felt a source of warmth next to you. But when you got used to the ambient temperature, you realized that it was even a warm room.

You heard different sounds. But you didn't know where they were coming from.

Murmurs, bed creaking. Then steps. And finally, the door opening.

The person next to you didn't come out. Someone else came in.

"Did you do what I asked? Wait... Why are you getting dressed? Were you undressing? Did you-"

"I was supposed to search her."

"Satoru, you bastard, if you did something to her –!"

"I didn't do anything to her! I just wanted to hug her! She would be warm if we had skin-to-skin contact."

You knew these voices very well.

And memories from earlier appeared in your head. Four hands that hold you so tightly that you won't run away. When you didn't even have a chance to escape from them. Your body is immobilized. There was no passage behind you or in front of you. As if you were between two large walls. You can't move. You can't run through this. Your wrists will be held even if you run away, so they can hold you. So you can't escape. Are they still your former friends? Is it even them?

Satoru and Suguru wouldn't act like that! They wouldn't kidnap you. They wouldn't tie you up.

But... You couldn't think of what they wouldn't do to you. You can only think about what they have already done to you. They were going to kill you. However, they did not kill you. Instead, they kidnapped you and tied you up. You have no way to escape. And you can only lie there and listen to their conversation. Or rather, their quarrel. You can't think about what they would do to you. Because it's not them anymore. Not the ones you knew. Some time has passed since your last meeting. You don't know what kind of people they are now. You don't know how they've changed. You don't know what they will do to you. You don't know how they will react to you. You don't know what they're planning to keep you here.

"She's awake?"

That's what Suguru said. You're sure about that. After all, their voices are different from each other.

"We'll find out soon~."

You felt the bed directly next to you sag under a foreign weight. And the cloth that prevented you from speaking was removed from your mouth.

But you couldn't say anything anyway. The hand on your cheek that was holding your face. And lips invade yours in a way that will make you make a sound or wake up.

A tongue pressing against your lips and then against your own. The grinding of your teeth. All this is to make you wake up or make a sound.

You let out a grunt as his tongue slipped deeper. You wanted to push him away, but both your legs and arms were immobilized. There was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

Just when you thought your breath would come through your mouth, you felt a pain in your lower lip as Satoru's teeth held your skin, biting. How did you know it was Satoru? He teases you at every possible moment. That's how it was at school.

Now that may have changed, but apparently there hasn't been a single change. But what surprised you was that he kissed you. Or he may have done it on purpose to piss you off. He will play with you. You can't have any other idea.

"You see, Suguru, she's awake." Satoru chuckled, rubbing his thumb over your bleeding lip. "Good morning." He pecked your lips one more time before sitting next to you and putting on his shirt.

"How are you feeling, (y/n)?" Suguru asked calmly. You felt a hand touch your forehead. He thought from the beginning that you wouldn't answer. From friends to enemies. Now they will do anything to make it from enemies to lovers. But unfortunately, you have no say in this matter. Just like you forced them to lament after you left, they can now force you to stay with them.

Either you are their friend and live with them with a smile, or you are their enemy and live with them even if you don't want to.

Or maybe you live with them the way they want. You are their lover, and you get everything you can dream of.

But you can't dream of leaving this house anymore. You lost your chance when you killed people.

The blindfold has been removed from your eyes, allowing you to look at them. With small smiles, they looked at you and saw little tears in your eyes.

You were underneath them as they hovered over your naked body.

They did it on purpose. You know they did it to make you feel that way. You are naked. And no one would want to run away naked. You feel so small and vulnerable without clothes. Yes, ridiculed. And their eyes stare at you constantly.

"If you behave, we'll take off your ropes now." Suguru stroked your cheek.

They honestly thought you would fight them. You will struggle to get out. You will want to push them away. Even bite. And you lay there, trembling.

What your superiors said about you... They had it right. Of all the sorcerers, they were the only ones you wouldn't attack.

Sentiments and also the knowledge that they are stronger than you. This is how it always has been and will be. There is no reason to change.

"And when you're like a house kitten, we'll replace all that with a collar and a chain on your leg, okay?"

"The collar was my idea, honey. You're not taking it off." Gojo laughed.

Are they crazy?

The collar perfectly shows this when the animal is not wild but domesticated.

There are also ways for them to check whether you will behave well.

"You go naked at home. This is the most important rule. We have to make sure you don't take the knife and put it in your pocket. When we tell you to, you put on a cat tail." Satoru laughed, showing you a metal teardrop with a fluffy cat tail on the back. "I believe you know where we're going to put it, right? That's why you have to tell us every time you want to go to the bathroom."

"One of us is always home to watch over you. And when we can't be here, you lie tied to the bed. We can't risk you running away and doing something stupid AGAIN."

"Suguru is right! But if you're a good, tame kitten..." he paused to grab your chin. "We'll really trade the handcuffs and chains for an ankle ring."

You were shocked. That's why they didn't tell you to talk to them. You can get used to this situation.

And they have to tame you.

Wild animals can be tamed.

And they will turn you into their docile kitten. And you will be more docile and cuddly than you were before all this happened. You can't be their friend. And to keep you with them, they have to do something to make you take their words seriously.

It all happened because you loved them.

So they can keep you here because they love you.

A/N: Well, I was sure I posted it. One, now that I checked, was as a project on Wattpad. That's why I'm sharing it now. (Even though I still think I'm sharing this sooner.)

Do I have strange ideas, and am I perverted? Yep, I'm just getting into the role of an author writing on Wattpad and Tumbrl .And I also imagine things as if Gojo had ideas.

@krokietino

@weebotaku21; @yihona-san06; @mikkies; @raysheil; @dreeamiea; @safaia-47; @porridgesblog; @weebnk-popper; @mc-reborn; @witchbybirth; @starlightanyaaa

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo #geto suguru #geto x reader smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x reader #satosugu fluff #satosugu #satosugu x y/n #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you

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blood-grove · 4 months

Text

(Pup) Kid stuck in tree

dog!ghost + child!reader

662 words

tw; none

summary; humans little blunt claws can get them anywhere (maybe we should buy locks or chop down trees)

God fucking damn it.

What is with his weird human thing and getting into places they shouldn't be.

First off, They fucking somehow ended up in the garage and on top of one of the highest shelves almost all of Nik's things strewn about on the floor all because Price had revoked some of there toys.

Another thing apparently humans even when there as young as Pup are very clever and are quick to find out where they hid the sweets he remember Gaz's tired expression in the early morning as he dragged them back to there room by the scruff Pup later on getting a scolding. And now Ghost felt like he should give up now,

Staring up into the tree that the fucking pup had gotten themselves into, How? He didn't fuckin' know but they were stuck whimpering like a newborn as he sighed trotting over.

"How the hell did you climb this.." Ghost groaned as he looked around the tree looking for some possible way they used there blunt little claws and flat feet to get up there. "I- I don't knoww-" You whined sniffling as you clung onto the thick branch refusing to look down trembling.

Ghost sighed heavily as he got a good look at where they were as he propped himself up on his hind legs front ones supporting himself against the tree taking a moment to consider his options,

He could one go and get anyone fucking else to deal with this,

Two leave them there (Heh),

And three have pity on the idiotic Pup and help them down..somehow.

Two sounds pretty good.

So why was he climbing the tree claws digging into the tough bark using the stronger branches to help his ascend pulling himself onto the branch they had clung too rolling his eyes ever so slightly flinching as they let go of the branch and clung onto me.

"T-Thank you!-"

"Don't thank me we haven't even gotten down.." "Oh"

Yeah to say the least he didn't plan this out well he had no idea how he'd guide them down maybe carry them? No they were almost as heavy as e was the added weight would make any grip he had.

To say the least he was thoroughly embarrassed as Gaz let up the self rising ladder, In other news Soap was also in the tree with them now daft bastard had gotten spooked his excuse for coming up and getting stuck as well (also for adding pressure to the branch Ghost doubt could hold much) was that we looked like two giant cats and not wanting a repeat of what happened back a few months ago he had to check first.

I think I may retire I'm getting to old for this shit Pup was at least more grateful than Soap both of them were basically children.

Thought it was nice to see a little drawing of him with a cape at his door the next morning, He tucked it away in his drawer and he stretched getting on with his 'absurd' early morning routine no one should be awake really other than Price but all he found was Pup in the main room asleep having clearly tried to stay awake long enough to see him if the several drawings on him were a clue.

Picking Pup up was relatively easy trying not to wake them as he carried them by the scruff back to there bed pulling the covers over them and the extra ones too the lack of fur always made them worry about the upcoming winter months they'd been having special clothes made for them of course but that was a surprise.

What also was a surprise was Pups arms wrapping around him gently mumbling about staying, Which he thought about and said no.

Laying down as they lightly hugged him it didn't take much for them to fall asleep entirely.

Maybe he could sleep in for another hour.

#call of duty #dog au #cod #reader #gn reader #child reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod ghost #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #i love them sm #platonic

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goodqueenaly · 1 month

Note

How do you think Melisandre will react when she discovers that Stannis isn't actually Azor Ahai reborn? What about the Queen's Men?

Perhaps the better question to ask - although it might amount to about the same thing - is what Melisandre and the Queen’s men (not to mention Selyse herself, and Shireen) will do as TWOW opens - namely, in light of both the bombshell news (or purported news) from the pink letter that Stannis is (again, supposedly) dead, as well as the assassination of Jon. If, as Ramsay’s letter to Jon so bluntly asserted, Ramsay had slain Stannis after seven days of battle, then the hopes of both Melisandre and the Queen’s men might seem, perhaps to use an apt turn of phrase, snuffed out: Stannis obviously could not be the hero chosen by R’hllor to save the world if he was already dead, and at the hands of so mundane and temporal an enemy as Roose Bolton’s bastard son. That Stannis isn’t in fact dead, as I very much believe is the case, does not really matter; so far as anyone at the Wall knows, the would-be apocalyptic champion of the Lord of Light is currently lying dead in the snows around Winterfell.

Melisandre, in her sole chapter, had already faced the trouble of vague portentous guidance on Stannis as Azor Ahai. More to the point, Melisandre had also already received at least some indication via her fiery visions that the identity of Azor Ahai was indisputably linked to Jon Snow. Consequently, I think she may realize or believe she now understands, as TWOW opens, that she had been focusing on the wrong person as Azor Ahai. Stannis was clearly not “the Lord’s chosen, the warrior of fire”, as she put it to Davos, since the apocalypse was still nigh; clearly, what R’hllor was trying to tell her was that the person to look for was Jon. Now, the fact that Jon had also recently been killed may not seem as big a stumbling block to Melisandre as it might objectively, in terms of the identity of a universal savior; Melisandre may not have ever brought anyone back from the dead (so far as we know), but as Thoros and Moqorro demonstrate, the ability of R’hllor’s priests (and presumably priestesses) to defy even death in the name of their god is a substantial power indeed. I have a feeling Melisandre is going to move quickly to return Jon to the land of the living via her fire magic (with the unconscious bonus, perhaps, of having Jon’s “soul” still be preserved in his wolf in the interim).

As far as the queen’s men go, the death of Stannis may seem more like a political tragedy than a cosmic one. The true devotion of the queen’s men to R’hllor is a mixed bag: some truly converts to the new religion (like young Devan Seaworth), some devoted only for the cruelty the exercise of that religion allows (like Clayton Suggs), and some converts only in name (like the late Alester Florent). However, whether or not any given pro-Stannis aristocrat at the Wall feels a sense of cosmological devastation at the news of Stannis’ (supposed) death, all of them would know that their political prospects were now far from certain. In the patriarchal, misogynistic world of Westerosi politics generally, a preteen girl might have a very hard time asserting herself as queen in her own right; as a result, the queen’s men at the Wall might be pretty uncertain about what to do without the strong male warrior-king figure of Stannis behind whom they could rally.

And of course, that’s without the immediate problems at the Wall overtaking them all as well. Jon’s assassination was the acme of a chaotic day at the Wall: not only had Jon dropped his bombshell news regarding the letter from Ramsay, his planned march on Winterfell, and the planned mission to Hardhome, but Ser Patrek had taken the opportunity to challenge Wun Wun the giant to seize Val - which ended about as much as anyone might have expected. With Jon murdered out in the open, the Wall is going to be, to put it bluntly, a mess: anti-Jon conspirators with his blood quite literally still on their hands, pro-Jon brothers potentially retaliating against those conspirators, queen’s men rushing about to rescue and/or avenge Ser Patrek from Wun Wun, free folk realizing that their pseudo-leader at the Wall is now dead. Any questions of Stannis’ death, and the apparent failure of him to be Azor Ahai, may be subsumed in something like a miniature civil war breaking out at the Wall, and them being caught in it.

#asoiaf meta #speculation #TWOW #melisandre

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maochira · 9 months

Text

Ways of being a father (Blue Lock)

Lyrics chosen and translated from Alligatoah's song Nicht adoptiert ("Not adopted")

Note: I didn't write something for every set of lyrics, but still wanted to keep some in to assign characters. Also thanks to @remy-roll for helping me a little 🫶 mwah mwah

gn!child!reader (reader is implied to be different ages in different parts)

If you're listening to this, you're alive, congratulations / I always knew you'd become more than a broken condom

Let's be honest, you weren't planned. Being a father initially wasn't part of his life plan, but then you happened. But he wouldn't replace you for anything in this world.

-Shidou, Barou, Karasu, Oliver, Noa, Ego, Raichi

Cause I don't believe in marriage you were born a bastard

-Oliver, Otoya, Karasu, Nagi

Sure, we love you, but there's a reason for that, kid / Nature arranges it like this so we won't kill you

Sometimes being a father can be frustrating and exhausting. But no matter how annoying you might get, his fatherly instinct always wins. In no way would he ever intentionally do harm to you.

-Barou, Ego, Kaiser, Raichi

It looks like you're family / Looks like it's just us now / We've got to get through it now, blood's thicker than beer / Sorry, you ain't adopted

-Lorenzo, Lavinho, Chris, Oliver, Karasu

I have no idea how to take care of children / But don't worry, I'll find a tutorial

He went into fatherhood completely without knowing what to expect. It all came a bit out of sudden for him, and he was too anxious to prepare himself properly. But when he held you in his arms for the first time, he knew he'd figure it out just fine.

-Nagi, Isagi, Bachira, Zantetsu, Kurona

The good thing is, I don't even have to share any knowledge with you / You can just read the wiki entry

-Nagi, Oliver, Zantetsu, Lavinho

I won't always be there for you, I have to party hard too / Did I say "party"? I mean "work"

Being a father doesn't mean that's the only part of his life now. He'll try to be there for you whenever possible, but there will be moments when he gets lost in other things.

-Otoya, Oliver, Karasu, Lavinho, Shidou

Joking aside, the ego-pig in me is happy that you are coming / Cause then I can play with Lego blocks

A part of him is still a child as well. And hey, being a father means he gets to play with toys again - that's something he can look forward to.

-Bachira, Shidou, Lavinho, Nagi, Isagi

Cause even though I'm putting effort and thinking about how / I can take the pressure off and still get you into bookstores / Something I do will lead to trauma, c'est la vie / I'll be the star of your psychotherapy, have fun

As careful as he is with you, he knows at some point he'll do something wrong. He's perfectly aware of how he won't always be the perfect father, but he's still trying his best.

-Barou, Ego, Noa, Isagi, Kunigami, Reo, Yukimiya

You're programmed for me, I'm programmed for you / Now we're sittin' here, I say now we're sittin' here / Sorry, you ain't adopted

He didn't choose to have you as his child, and you didn't choose him to have as your father. But still, you're perfectly made to be this role for each other.

-all of them.

You may not become president or student representative / Reality will throw your dreams in the chick shredder / I know what I'm talkin' about, life ain't no show

You won't achieve the greatest things in the world, and that's okay. You don't have to do that to make your father proud. He knows exactly what it's like to fail, and that's why he will always encourage you to reach your dreams, no matter how big or small they may be.

-Reo, Ego, Barou, Raichi, Kaiser, Tokimitsu, Yukimiya

You'll see my burdens, I've given them to you / If you think your genes are bad, they're Papa's genes / But you're my update, you can fix the bugs

You may not be a carbon copy of your father, but the similarities are undeniable - both the good and the bad.

-Ego, Barou, Shidou, Kaiser

In the beginning it's ambition like in a chess duel / You will emulate me until you outshine me / The balance of power is on my side - currently / But your chance is good, because Papa's withering parallel like a leaf

Being his child also means being his rival - in a fun way. If there's something to compete in, there will be playful competition. Board games, soccer in the backyard and running random races when you're just walking somewhere together - things like that.

-Shidou, Bachira, Karasu, Lavinho

This has to come out now 'cause later I won't be the same / When you're around I'm sure I'll write some corny shit / No more tasteless jokes, no more Hitler comparisons

He was more of an immature person before, but he knows after your birth he has to become more serious as a father - at least that's what society expects from him.

-Bachira, Oliver, Karasu, Shidou, Lavinho

I stand in front of the mirror and see a caricature / But I train every day for my father figure / I practice "La-Le-Lu" on the keyboard / And I subject myself to a motherfucking radio censorship / And I learn all the movie clichés, after birth / You'll get a wristwatch with your name engraved on it

At first, knowing he'll be a father soon felt so unreal to him. But the closer the day gets, the more the realization sets in. But that realization makes him nervous, so he's putting extra effort into learning how to be the best father he can be. And even though he doesn't want to be "like the other dads", he finds himself following every cliché possible.

-Zantetsu, Tokimitsu, Isagi, Snuffy, Yukimiya

Even though being strict clashes with my liberal nature / I'll pretend I'm interested in your Spanish exam

He doesn't care how much of a good or bad student you are, but he knows you'll have to pass school somehow. As much as he doesn't care about your grades, he pretends as if he does to keep you encouraged. But of course you'll get praise for your hard work when you get good grades.

-Isagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Ness, Yukimiya

I'll be mad at you for every adolescent booze story / But don't be afraid of me just because I fuck your mother

-Oliver, Karasu, Lavinho, Shidou, Raichi

I'm just an old cynic who writes frustration poems / But I swear I'll give it all to you till the end of my chapter

He'd do anything and everything for you. He will always make sure you feel safe and loved, no matter what age you're at. Even when you become an adult, he will always be your father and protect you as good as he can.

-all of them.

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viperwhispered · 23 days

Note

New fic idea: Jamil VS the ex

Context: Jamil and s/o have been dating for while. Things are going great and everyone is just happy. There are no real jealousy issues on either side cause they trust each other and Jamil is confident he's the best catch around. If there is any jealousy, they talk it out like mature human beings since being petty doesn't solve anything. Though there is defintley possessiveness, it never leaves the bedroom and they both enjoy it.

Introducing the ex: just a complete toxic dump. As in, shitty romance novels stereotypical male lead toxic dump. Just controlling, verbally/emotionally abusive, physically intimidates people, tries to use sex to fix things, doesn't know when to leave their exes alone, gets physical with love rivals, etc. For reference feel free to look at Christian Grey from 50 Shades, Hardin Scott from After, and Edward Cullen from Twilight. Honestly it didn't last more than a week yet the ex continued to stalk our poor reader and ruin any attempt at a finding a new lover.

Cue them getting to NRC and finally having a chance at a relationship with our boy Jamil. But unfortunately all good things must come to an end when reader invites Jamil home to meet their family. Let's say that if the reader is not from TWST then they have a way to dimension travel and the family is in on it.

Jamil is quickly welcomed into the family and they make it clear that he's the best boyfriend the reader has had so far. The reader and their family are quick to warn Jamil about the ex and the sabotages. He learns the details from his albi's angry rants about all the bullshit this guy did.

At one point the reader turns to him and goes: "you have my permission to be as much of a possessive scheming bastard as you want. Ruin his reputation, frame him, humiliate him, I don't care! He's messed with my life far too much for me to care about him anymore. If we run into him, feel free to shove it in his face that I am yours. Hold me, kiss me, leave hickies, whatever! I trust you to know my boundaries and when to do it. Hell, if you manage to get rid of him, then we might as well skip the formalities and go straight to the alter."

Cue Jamil plotting:

1. Get the ego boost from going PDA in front of your lover’s ex. Note: make sure beloved is wearing his hoodie/jersey for maximum boost.

2. Get rid of the abusive ex who's been harming his beloved for YEARS.

3. Plan the wedding.

Meanwhile, the reader is just enjoying the extra affection while munching popcorn as their dear boyfriend gets rid of the biggest nuisance in their life. Yes they get turned on by it, especially the smirk. They're planning to thoroughly spoil him when this is over, both in and out of the bedroom.

Bonus: in your professional opinion, what route would Jamil take to get rid of the ex and how sadistic does he get?

Hasdkföjask yes just let Jamil loose on the problem and enjoy the fireworks.

Also hasdfads in my professional opinion, huh? I feel honored. 🥺👉👈

Oop this got long so below the cut it goes.

(Also boy am I glad the ex did not get to do too much lasting damage to reader’s ability to have a healthy relationship. Jamil already has enough baggage for both of them to go through. Still, someone get a restraining order on that ex, stat.)

“Yes they get turned on by it, especially the smirk.” Just… too true. Man’s just way too hot when he’s all confident and cocky I swear.

Also ngl this brand of possessive I can definitely get behind.

Also I love that tasklist, just not sure which one I love more, the note to task 1 or just the entirety of task 3. Tho of course, Jamil being Jamil (and I may or may not be projecting here) I’m sure there’d be plenty of subtasks / -steps to each of these.

(Also sidenote yes Jamil definitely would know how to turn up the charm for the in-laws for extra approval points. What a charming well-behaved young man, just delightful 😇)

Now, the options coming to my mind are:

Something “private”: only the ex (and reader) needs to know what happened exactly, but it’s enough to spook the ex and keep him in line. (I mean, getting snake whispered? Should be pretty scary, especially depending on what Jamil does with it. Oh boy, the potential.)

Something public: ruin this guy’s image, future prospects, credit score, everything, make everyone see him for the cretin he is. Might cause backlash depending on just how concerning this guy is, but also long-lasting consequences.

Ignore the gnat, just rub things in his face by just being super sweet and loveydovey wherever he happens to be without ever directly confronting him because he’s not worth the effort (not too likely, Jamil’s definitely way too petty (or incensed) to just leave it at that).

Now, getting information on people may be Azul’s specialty, but I’m sure Jamil won’t have too much trouble finding out enough (like where the ex works, lives, stuff like that. If this is a different world (or even just different country), I’m sure reader can help him with the details of what is possible and all).

And by the sounds of things, this particular jerkwad is bound to turn up anyway. So maybe it’s just a case of waiting and being ready, setting up the favorable circumstances.

So Jamil and s/o would be going out and about. Maybe to the shops, maybe just a walk outside, whatever they know is likely to land them on the ex’s path.

The thing about the hoodie is that it’s not necessarily obvious (to the ex) that it belongs to Jamil, rather than you. So he’d probably go for the jersey (since that name obviously isn’t yours (at least yet)), or weather permitting he’d only loan out his hoodie to you at an opportune time.

Like, as soon as you two realize the ex is around, you’re all oh, it sure is a little chilly isn’t it, have my hoodie my dear, it’ll keep you warm. Cue makeout session (and definitely no smug glances from Jamil to the ex, no siree. Nothing of the sort when he holds you tighter, pulls you closer, lets his hands trail along your back, into your back pockets or perhaps even under your shirt. Definitely.).

When ex comes over, you’re conveniently in a public place (probably conveniently within sight of cameras, too, so there’d be something on record to go to authorities with, if needed, and for extra consequences).

I’m thinking Jamil might be all “innocent”, at least overtly (and as much as he can hold himself back - he’s used to mingling with the high and mighty and keeping face, but this is more personal) - tho there might be some underhanded barbs with plausible deniability, or just all the casual things about how you’re Jamils and how you’ve been together for however long and how Jamil just met your parents etc. Basically just reminding the ex of what he can’t have.

Tho once Jamil distances himself (and you), from the guy, I could see Jamil going to somewhere more secluded (with or without you, depending on how you agreed in advance). And if and when the ex follows, he gets a very different side of Jamil. Sharp tongue, no holds barred, told in no uncertain terms how pathetic and despicable he is, and to keep away from you, your family, and anyone else who has any connection to you. But especially you.

The only problem I have is thinking of just what he’d do to seal the deal. I mean, probably Jamil would make the guy do something bad / unpleasant with snake whisper. Like, make the dude do something humiliating, film it and leave it on his phone for him to find later? Make him go out into the crowds to make a fool out of himself? (Perhaps in a location with his friends / family / whatever around?) Get him to send some very terrible messages to some folks?

I think I’m a bit too nice to think of just how far Jamil could go, and snake whisper does have its limitations, too. Like to really ruin someone, you need to do something more impactful than just one unfortunate action.

(I mean I suppose maybe he could make the dude kill someone and go to prison for that but yeah let’s not.) Robbery, tho? I’m sure there’s some sort of a crime we can squeeze out of the guy that would not be too bad for bystanders (not that Jamil would be that bothered, tbh) but would still be enough of a consequence, and which could still be achieved with snake whisper.

That, or just make the guy walk into a cesspit or something, especially if it’s right before something important.

I’m kinda just spitting this out (and brain’s a bit fried) but also this was such a juicy concept I had to jump on it.

Honestly I feel like there’d be so much more to be said just for the PDA part and the possessiveness and protectiveness Jamil would feel and everything else, and maybe I’ll get back to that another time.

Did you have any particular thoughts of how you think it might go?

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #ner talks #chatting with folks #lex752 #feels like there's so many more things I could be touching on here but this already is long and also my brain is hitting capacity #eta: tumblr why do you insist on dragging my readmores halfway down the post from where I place them? 😤

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mamamittens · 1 year

Text

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 11)

Platonic Whitebeard Crew & Reader-Insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: Yandere behavior (somehow I think I managed to loop Teach into it now too, so congrats, you've charmed a bastard man). If you find yandere content uncomfortable, please do block the tag 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as any relevant variations to 'one piece yandere'.

Do not tolerate this behavior in real life.

Stay safe and have fun!

If my mental math is correct, I should finish this in 4~ish more chapters. So we're nearing the end!

Also, surprisingly sympathetic take on Teach's backstory, didn't know I had it in me. This is assuming the fan theory that he's from a winter island and was with Whitebeard since he was young, btw.

Word Count: 2,099

Teach grinned as his new crew set the sails to leave the small island he’d recruited them from. Dawn was just breaking and he wanted to make good time—just in case he already had tails from his old crew. He wasn’t entirely sure how much of a head start he had given the rush he was in to ensure Thatch didn’t eat the fruit. Decades looking for it and he nearly lost his chance again.

He adjusted your limp body under his arm for a moment, enjoying the palpable feeling of his power increasing from the contact. The shadows seemed to writhe hungrily at his senses, eagerly awaiting his command in a way they simply didn’t without you. You… well, you were a bit of last minute surprise as well. Sure, in theory, he could just take your fruit but he wasn’t confident it would work the same way. And he couldn’t risk wasting it if it didn’t. Besides, you’re the perfect bait.

He has the power. He has the plan. Now he just needs the reputation to become the Pirate King. And what better way than taking down his old crew one at a time? Sowing chaos to fracture them until Oyaji is too weak to stand against him and properly claim rise to his lofty goals as ‘Blackbeard’. Killing Thatch would certainly get someone on his ass, though he was torn between commanders as to who it could be. Izo was sore enough about losing old friends, and Marco may feel responsible as first mate. But Ace—well, he was a spitfire at the best of times and his old commander to boot.

Taking you was sort of like kicking the hornet’s nest. While also becoming even more powerful in a single move. How could he not do it?

The minor issue of ensuring you never have a chance of squirming away was easily solved with a bit of chain. It’s not like you were particularly strong, though you were smart enough to not do anything too risky—which he appreciated really. Though he’d prefer you sticking around willingly if only to not have to carry you every time you fell asleep.

Teach chuckled a little to himself as he returned to his newly minted quarters. You were wearing down pretty fast the longer he was ‘on the run’. No real chance to properly rest or recuperate from what must be a stressful situation—for you at least. If he neglected to feed you every now and then it only helped ensure you were weaker than before. Who knows, he might not even need the chain if this kept up.

Teach set you down on the sparse bed, unhooking his end of the chain to secure it to the latch on the wall. It wasn’t like he was going to use the bed himself. He paused a moment to watch as you curled up against the wall, completely dead to the world.

Heh. Cute.

He didn’t get why Oyaji recruited the way he did. Pretending to be a big family when they were actually just a band of pirates taking what they wanted. Too soft for a man with the strength to do anything he desired. Too many vulnerabilities. But every so often he thought he understood it… a little. Late night parties with lighthearted competition. Long running arguments about inane subject that both parties are a little too invested in to be serious.

Teach reached down and removed your glasses, examining the cracked lens. Bending it in the light to watch it refract as he considered your position. His prisoner and, technically, first mate. Though he wouldn’t be having you fight—not that he’d trust you to fight for him right now. He had the absolute upper hand over you. Chose to stay his hand. Because you had use to him.

He heard you shudder a little and paused, setting the thick glasses down. You were cold—weak body sensitive to the relative chill in the room. Unbidden, he remembered long, cold nights on his home island in the snow. Powerless and unsure if he’d survive to see daylight again.

Until Oyaji found him. A small, frail part of his chest ached at the memory. The sheer relief that he was safe now. His next meal guaranteed at no cost. No more cold, lonely nights. Even now, he calls him that. Oyaji. Despite fully planning to kill him. The idea didn’t conflict in his head. It was simply the way of things. Old replaced by the new. What higher respect could he pay his father-figure than personally ensuring his demise to further his own prospects? To step out of the shadows and get rid of one of the few people alive that can remember the sad, pathetic child in the snow?

Perhaps this strange sense of sentiment was his own, personal weakness. Crafted by a man too weak of heart to truly conquer the seas.

Teach shrugged off his coat, laying it over you gently. Chuckling when you stopped trembling.

He was a pirate. He could indulge in whatever vice he wanted… though perhaps cautiously. It wouldn’t do to deride Oyaji for something he, himself, was guilty of in excess.

He didn’t get why Marco took you. Why Oyaji agreed to take you in. Well, aside from your devil fruit. But the soft glove approach smacked of weakness given your surprisingly stubborn refusal.

But the slow, rolling satisfaction that settled in his chest knowing that he made sure you weren’t cold… he thought he could understand Oyaji a little better now. Why he kept picking up strays everywhere he went so indulgently in the same way he’d sneak sips of good booze when the nurses weren’t looking.

It was a strange, frail sort of pride to partake in. Pride at providing. But Teach learned at Oyaji’s knee to take enjoyment from the little things in life.

Besides, it wasn’t like you could sell him out or take advantage of what scraps he gave you. As long as you behaved, he supposed there was no problem in these small gestures of kindness. So long as you never forgot your place, that is.

--*--

Luffy laughed, loudly and with glee as his older brother teased his crew. He was so proud of the people he’d recruited so far and wanted Ace to see what he did. Those bright, beautiful sparks that drew Luffy like a moth to flame. The spark that Ace himself had since they were children that only grew since they parted. Ace was still hurt, a little broken inside, but it had healed since they last met.

“Why are you here, anyhow?” Nami asked, “I thought Whitebeard mostly stuck to the New World?” Ever inquisitive, Luffy’s smile widened at how clever his navigator was. Ace scowled, tipping his head towards the man he brought with him.

Pineapple. Well, Ace called him ‘Marco’ but obviously Pineapple was better. Tall and blond with bright blue eyes—achingly reminding him of Sabo but different enough that Luffy could barely see the ghost of his other brother.

“We’re tracking down a traitor. He tried to kill one of our own and kidnapped another.” Pineapple scowled with dark eyes. Luffy’s crew was shocked—giving Luffy the impression that this was an even bigger deal than he first thought.

“A nakama-killer? Who?” Ussop asked breathlessly, “What kind of monster would make it out from a Yonko ship after that?!”

“Teach.” Ace hissed in a way that reminded Luffy of the few times he said Bluejam or Celestial Dragon. Fire flickering between his teeth. “He goes by ‘Blackbeard’ now. Promise me if you run into him you won’t fight him, Lu. He nearly killed Thatch. You’re not strong enough to fight him yet.”

Luffy made a noise of surprise, both at Ace’s words and the name.

“Hey, didn’t we already run into him?” Zoro asked, glancing at Luffy for confirmation. Luffy remembered the weird pirate well. Poor taste in food and rude as hell.

“Yeah, we did actually. Weird guy with a weird laugh. With the tired four-eyes.” The two looked at Luffy sharply. “I almost got in a fight with him but he weirded me out.”

“Tired four eyes?” Ace asked with a pissed off expression. Luffy felt a small twinge of guilt for not helping the stranger at the time, but something inside him whispered ‘not yet’.

“Yeah. They were connected with a chain. Thought he had a slave or something but Nami said it wasn’t quite right.” Luffy explained. Nami nodded, tensing slightly as the two looked at her for more answers.

“Well, usually slaves just have the collar. And he didn’t make any demands or order them around. They just had to… follow him. He even yanked them by accident and apologized. Most slave owners don’t bother with that.” Nami huffed.

Luffy pouted. They looked promising. He even felt… weird when they were around. Like he was stronger somehow. His heart like a steel drum in his chest. Like he felt when he was around his nakama. But they lacked a… spark. Like they lost it and Luffy didn’t know how to give it back. Almost tried anyway but his crew stopped him.

He hoped that next time they found that spark again. He’d love to have them on his crew.

Ace nodded.

“We’re getting close, at least. Hopefully we’ll catch up to them soon. Who knows, we might be able to introduce you guys properly!” Ace grinned, the edges a little sharp like he was suggesting dine-in-dashing when they were kids and hunting crocodiles was too much of a hassle. Luffy grinned.

“I wanna meet them again! Hey! Hey! Ace, do you think they’d join my crew?” Luffy cackled when Pineapple and Ace jolted at the question. Ace narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue with a thin smile.

“Oi! Don’t go stealing from my crew, you little shit!” Ace hooked his arm around Luffy’s neck stretching it out as he gave Luffy a noogie through his hat.

Luffy squirmed, crying out at the unfairness.

“Ack! Aaaaccee~! They look cool. Though really tired! I promise to take good care of them! Ace!” Luffy complained. Arms failing uselessly as Ace kept him pinned in place. “Ace!”

Luffy’s crew watched with wide eyes as Pineapple smirked from his spot against the wall.

Okay, that felt a little like Sabo.

--*--

You looked out at the growing island, Banaro, chain wrapped around your waist so it wouldn’t drag across the deck. You knew that Teach would come over shortly to reattach it to his bracelet. For the past couple of months, he’d given you relative freedom while at sea and restricting your movement once they got close enough to an island. For the most part, you’d been avoiding the crew, which Teach encouraged.

Probably to make sure you didn’t get any outside help, not that you felt confident you would have received any if you’d asked.

The closest chances to escape you’ve noticed was the revolutionary early into your capture with Teach and Straw Hat—surprisingly. Not that you think Teach knew that.

Though the occasional spotting of a sea king was also promising, Teach had them firmly sail in whatever direction was away from potential pods. Kill joy.

Anyway, it wasn’t that Straw Hat was stronger than Teach, he was definitely a bit too green to manage it given Teach’s decades at sea.

But… that devil fruit of his.

It called out to you. Boundless as the horizon. A drumbeat that vibrated your soul. A call to… something. Something just out of your reach. And you had the sense that if you had only known what that ‘something’ was, Straw Hat would have thrown hands the minute he saw you.

The pirate seemingly breathing in sync with his fruit, only held back by how weak he was currently. Which was a strange thing to sense. Usually fruits were just not utilized well. They didn’t typically hold such obvious power that the user simply was unable to access it at that time.

It felt elastic. Snappy and twisting in a way that you found delightful. Made you want to laugh without even hearing what he was saying.

You smiled a little. Strangely optimistic for the first time in a long time.

Pirate King, huh?

… Somehow, you felt as though Straw Hat Luffy would shake the world. And despite being a ex-marine, you looked forward to it.

Hopefully, you’d be in a position to see it for yourself.

#one piece yandere #yandere whitebeard crew #platonic yandere #reader insert #oh sweet child of mine #reader making everyone yandere istg #really got that rizz #not always a good thing tho #yandere blackbeard #yandere ace #yandere marco

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