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obsessive-valentine · 4 months

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Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

Wishing it was summer so bad so have this.

Being used to your captor being crude and rough towards you to keep you in line and obedient, today came as a shock when he seems to be empathetic and soften for you when you get sick during a heatwave. TW- kidnapped reader, non-con touching and hint of farmers past anger issues traumatising reader making them paranoid.

Its stifling hot, all the windows and doors are open for circulation and lace curtains drawn to try keep the house cool, but it does little. He had left the house earlier than usual to start his morning chores before the heat got unbearable, he had kissed your head and left hours before sunrise. You hadn’t seen him since. You probably could walk a few steps outside and see him in the distance somewhere but you barely had the energy to drag yourself from the bed to the sofa- infront of the fan.

You wished you hadn’t wasted energy on finding a cooler spot because the fan was only pushing around the hot air. With a exasperated sight you excepted your fate, waiting to succumb to heat stroke and begin vomiting. Laying flat on your stomach with only a vest top and underwear on, thinking about how good a glass of water would be right about now.

Until the dreaded sound of heavy boots stomp onto the deck, and into the house. “Fuckin’ hell” he huffed wiping sweat from his face with the shirt he instead slung over his shoulder when the sun had risen. You almost jumped a mile when the next time you opened your eyes from a slow blink he was standing right infront of you.

You braced yourself for whatever might come, used to being exposed to emotional whiplash. You could never read his face until it was to late, you tried to calm yourself from overacting by reasoning that you haven’t done anything wrong recently.

He leaned down without a word, the back of his dirty calloused hand pressed against your cheek and then the other one “you’ve been drinking water?” He questions suspiciously straightening up and towering over your form. You stayed laying down wishing to sink into the sofa, how do you tell him you couldn’t be bothered? You mumble a pathetic ‘no’ staring lifelessly at his dusty beaten up boots.

Expecting a scolding or to be told to ‘toughen up’, you flinched when instead you were met with his rough hand rubbing your back out of pity “hang tight for a moment”. It could have been just a minute or hour from when he left the room and returned with a glass of ice and water, you were to disorientated to get a grasp of the time or if you’d blinked or napped.

Slowly he pulled you up into a sitting position by your wrist, you groaned as a pulsating ache in your skull began “I know, hurts hu?” He steadies you with a firm hand in your shoulder before giving you the glass of water and made sure you drink it all. You feel the cold salvation trickle down your throat leaving your mouth cold for a moment, savouring the way the ice kissed your lips.

“Stupid of me, shoulda checked up on you. Think it’s heatstroke” he takes the cup off you once it’s all gone and places it on the table before bending down to pick you up “Can’t I trust you to look after yourself for just a few hours? This is why you need me sweetheart” he rather softly lectures you as he carries you down the hall, to the bathroom, turning on the cold tap to the bath.

He helped you out of what’s left of your clothes and steadied you as you stepped into the slow rising water. You felt to nauseous and uncomfortable to mind being naked or the fact he was also stripping down and slipping in the small bath behind you.

To tired to fight when he pulled you to rest your head back onto his shoulder or when his hands wandered when washing you with a cold cloth. You just closed your eyes and welcomed the cold goosebumps that spread up your legs and arms. You both stayed there for maybe half an hour, laying back in the cold with his hands mindlessly gliding up and down your body.

...

“Come on, I got work to finish” he huffed out pulling away his hands, watching you stir awake from you half conscious sate before getting out and wrapping a towel around himself. You grabbed ahold of his hands as he helped you out and handed you a towel. He wordlessly left but returned with one of his shirts walking past you to wet it under the cold tap “put this on, it will keep away heat rash and cool you down” his eyes wandered as you pulled it over yourself but you were none the wiser, struggling to pull the wet shirt over you as it clung to your skin.

Pulling on his clothes and boots he then lead you outside onto the shady front porch, sitting you on the old rocking chair with a book and glass of water. “Holler if you need anything, sweetheart” you felt a lot better but still exhausted, and for a moment relaxed and unafraid of the unusually caring man. That is until he turned around for a breif moment as he walked away “don’t you go wandering”

He was half smiling and it sounded light hearted but you knew it was anything but. It was a clear threat. A wave of sickness reintroduced it’s self, but now for a different reason.

You didn’t read the book but rather watch him work in a nearby field with sleepy eyes. How he would lovingly interact with the animals, how scarily strong he was lifting and dragging feed and muck around, how he’d carefully and proudly inspect his vegetables when watering them.

One of the livestock-guard-dogs came up onto the deck to keep you company, laying at your feet, and the cool breeze against the wet shirt sent waves of relief over you body.

...

At some point you had fallen asleep and when you woke up it was late afternoon and your shirt was dry, the chair rocked forward a bit then arms snaked around your waist and under you butt. You almost flew into fight or flight mode until you remembered where you are and who with, even though yet another headache you knew it was useless.

To your surprise he scooped you up and sat back down In the chair with you in his lap “welcome back to the land of the living” he joked, he didn’t even have to look at you to know he’d woken you up, to busy digging around in his pocket for a cigarette. You didn’t answer still getting to grips of what time it is after being rudely pulled from a heat coma.

“How you feeling? Want me to wet the shirt again?” He lit the cigarette before pressing the back of his hand to your cheek seemingly satisfied with how much your temperature has come down “no thank you” you glanced at him but adverting you eyes quickly remembering how unusually soft he treated you this morning when you were dazed and confused. Wondering when he’d become crude and rough again.

He hummed in a response resting against the back of the chair dragging you down with him, he takes a long drag of the cigarette “How about we watch a movie tonight? Got some old DVDs in the attic” he offers looking out contently at his farm and his free hand runs through your hair. “I’d like that” you said sounding more like a question, unsure if there was a catch but there was nothing.

Just a short nod and some peaceful quiet with the chirps of birds and one of the horses whinny’ing in the nearby field. There was no lingering dread or fear, just peace. And maybe if you closed your eyes and imagined hard enough you could trick yourself into thinking you are on a summer country vacation with the man you dreamed of as a teenager.

For the first time since you got kidnapped, you aren’t plotting an escape, trying to stay quiet and unseen, or fearful of facing the mans wrath or worried about spending the night in the shed. Your heads empty and feel rested.

...

Tomorrow you’d lash out again, remembering today and how you seem to be slowly accepting your situation -accepting your kidnapper. With a clear-head in the morning you will grow afraid of the reality that your stuck here for life. But as for today, you have a moment of peace - free from worry and perhaps a bit of contentment even if just for the night. As he finally has the chance to lovingly hold you close -watching the movie he let you pick.

#yandere oc #yandere #x reader #yandere farmer

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the-whispers-of-death · 3 months

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Home Again

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Most gods would be happy that they were back in the paradise realm after previously being banished and stripped of their divinity, but Fallen God!Ghost aches for you.

His nights are spent dreaming about you, the mortal who showed him what love was. He dreamt of sleeping beside you, kissing you, even cooking with you. He dreamt of your beautiful hair, your breathtaking eyes, your jaw-dropping smile. His dreams were filled with memories of your laughter, your smooth and lyrical voice.

Paradise realm is a paradise, sure, but nothing could compare to you. Your beauty outshines the paradise realm's, your presence calms Ghost in a way the paradise realm can never. The air was always lighter when he was around you, the colors of the world always brighter. You are his light, his world, and everything is dull without you.

He spends week after week searching for how to get back to the mortal realm and back to you. His power is potent, he can just teleport himself down to the mortal realm to see you but that doesn't seem like a satisfying answer to him.

Ghost would eventually have to leave you and go back to the paradise realm, forced to be able to only visit you from time to time. He didn't want that, he can't bear the thought of leaving you. Of sleeping in his own bed, alone.

He also couldn't make you a concubine of his, bring you to the paradise realm. It didn't feel right for him to ask you to leave everything you knew behind just so you could spend hours alone in his temple while he worked. You deserve better than that.

So what else was there to do?

It takes Ghost a few days to realize what he must do. What he has to do in order to see you again.

He is standing in God!Price's temple, all of the deities summoned there for the monthly update of what the pantheon has been doing since they last convened. He can barely hear what the others are saying, it being meaningless as his mind finally reaches an answer to his burning question.

"I'm stripping myself of my godhood and powers, permanently," Ghost says, interrupting the conversation.

The entire temple is silenced at once, everyone turning their heads to stare at Ghost in disbelief.

A god deliberating turning himself mortal? That was unheard of. It was absurd to even those deities who loved the mortals so much.

Price frowns, clearly thinking Ghost has gone mad. "Now, Ghost, let's think about this," he says, his words slow and carefully curated. "You can't just abandon your godly duties, you're the God of Warfare. If there's one thing that the mortals do the most, it's engaging in war."

Ghost scoffs. "My duties can easily be done by our Goddess of War," he replies, gesturing with his hand towards said goddess. "I no longer want to be a god."

His words ignite a flurry of murmurs between the other deities, all of them shocked beyond disbelief. They don't understand why he wouldn't want to be a god, especially after centuries of hearing him look down on mortals.

"Is this because of the mortal you met during your banishment, {Name}?" Price asks, peeved now. "I hadn't thrown you down to them for you to fall in love with them, Ghost."

"No, you did it so I could learn the importance of mortals and I have," Ghost cuts in, his power flaring up as his anger spikes. This isn't up for debate. "I'm doing this no matter what any of you say, I was doing a courteous thing by giving you all a heads-up."

Price shifts in the seat of his throne, itching to get up and slap some sense into Ghost. "Enough of this, Ghost. You don't even know if they will take you if you're not a god. Perhaps that was the only reason they fell in love with you in the first place."

Ghost snarls in rage at the accusation and assassination of your character. "Even if that's the case, which I doubt it is, it is my choice. I'd rather spend the rest of my mortal life heartbroken if they turn me away than spend eternity aching for them," he says defiantly.

Immense power fills the temple, all of it Ghost's as he pools it all in his veins. Stripping himself of his godhood and powers is excruciating, the pain almost enough to stop him, but he keeps pressing on with the action.

It was worth it, for you.

"Someone stop him!" Price bellows at the other deities, but it's too late.

Just as God!Soap reaches for Ghost to try and stop him, Ghost's godhood and powers are stripped from him, his last act of being a god is to send his mortal form where it needs to be: at your doorstep.

His second fall seems euphoric, a laugh bubbling up in his chest as he falls through the clouds and lands on your front porch just like he had done months ago.

He looks to the side just as you open your front door, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of you. The weight on his chest is lifted, everything falling into place once more.

"Ghost?" You ask, surprised. You had thought you would never see him again. "Did... Did you get your godhood taken away again?"

Ghost stands with your help, his skin thrumming at the sensation of your hands on him again. "I took it away myself," he murmurs, breathless as he stares in your beautiful eyes.

Your face twists into confusion, which makes sense since he had been itching to be a god again the first time he fell. "Why?"

"For you, love. I couldn't bear to live eternity without you," Ghost says, secretly nervous that you won't take him now that he's not a god. "I love you, {Name}."

"I love you too," you reply, making him relax. You step closer, happy that this isn't a dream. "I don't care that you're not a god anymore, I only ever wanted you."

"You will always have me, for as long as you will have me."

Ghost steps closer as well, reaching up to gently cradle your face between his hands. He can't wait for you to lean in as well, though you do so as he gently presses his lips against yours.

The kiss can only be described as heavenly, all of the noises of city life fading away until there was only the sound of you two kissing. It's so gentle and slow, Ghost savoring what it's like to kiss you. He pours every ounce of love into the kiss, needing you to be filled with his love.

It feels like you are kissing for hours before you both pull away for air. Your soft pants fill the air between you two, you smiling at him.

"Come on," you say, gently grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together. "Let's go inside and have dinner together."

Ghost nods and follows you inside the house that truly feels like home now. He lets you lead him into the kitchen, not even complaining about having to cook with you.

He had been a fallen god when he had first met you but now, he was neither fallen nor a god. He was just Ghost. A man you loved.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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starsofang · 8 days

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Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 7

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, don't wanna spoil but just be aware!

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Good things don’t last. And both you and Simon were about to have a cruel reminder.

Simon stuck around after the two of you had shared the intimacy of a kiss. He didn’t let it go farther than just that, and neither did you. In fact, the rest of his time spent cooped up in your apartment was rather quiet and calming, despite the events that had taken place.

There was still fresh blood on his hands. He had let Ghost take over his senses and consume him in a blind rage, only to return to you as Simon, rage simmering into a flutter of calm.

Simon felt like he was lying to you. And truthfully, part of him was. You didn’t know about the realness of his job or what he did. You didn’t see the knives he embedded in unexpecting men and women, or the droplets of powdered poison slipped into their glasses at parties. You were blissfully unaware of the true nature of his being.

Simon couldn’t exist without Ghost, but Ghost could certainly thrive without Simon.

Ghost could also live without you. No – he’d have to live without you, at some point. Simon just didn’t want to.

He was being selfish and he knew it. He was taking advantage of a woman who had no business being involved with him, yet his heart was unable to let you go and finish the job, the job he’s always been destined to do until death did he part.

Simon had been lying to you, and now, all of it was crumbling down on him.

Price’s text stared back at him from the brightness of his phone screen. It was like staring into the eyes of death, causing his chest to fill with a sickening tightness that made it hard to breathe.

“We need to talk. You know where to meet me.”

So he left you. He made sure you were fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, sheets pulled up to your ears, and he selfishly allowed himself a minute to stare down at your snoozing figure. So peaceful, you were, eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning beautifully across the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth was parted with puffs of air exhaling from your lips, ones he had pressed kiss after kiss against the night before.

Selfish.

The streets were busy as he walked, yet the impending doom that hung over him like a storm cloud muted the sounds and circled him in a bubble. He didn’t hear the chatter of people passing by, nor the cars that revved and honked from the roads beside him.

It was a cruel silence as he went, like his mind was shutting down all aspects of life in a cruel reminder of the ones he’d taken away.

Price resided in a remote apartment complex, one that showed just how much he worked for what he did. Killing people, just like him, but taking on a role on the side of watching over him as well as Gaz and Soap. Brothers they were, all of them, and now Simon feared he was fucking up the dynamic by being greedy.

“Ghost,” Price greeted as he opened the door. Simon gave him a curt nod and entered the residence, following behind Price.

The man in question was silent when he made way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He offered Simon none in return, and Simon knew it was his subtle way of showing disappointment.

“Let’s chat,” Price mused, gesturing with a hand for Simon to join him in the living room.

Simon sat with his fists on his knees, back straight as a board, as Price sat in front of him in a much more relaxed state, leaning back and resting an ankle on his knee. He sipped at the tea, eyes boring into Simon’s.

“You fucked up, Simon.” Straight and blunt, cutting right to the chase. It stuck into Simon like a bee sting. “Killin’ a man outside of a job. Killin’ him of your own free will.”

Graves. The memory of his body, stabbed ruthlessly in his kitchen, his blood puddling the floor in a red mess, staining Simon’s skin an ugly crimson that he spent lifetimes scrubbing off. Mutilated, mangled, completely unrecognizable, all from Ghost’s doing.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Price roared, displaying the layered frustration he had kept abay up until now. “This is your job, Simon, our job. You kill to get paid, not kill for your own pleasure.”

“I know.”

“You know, and still did it.”

“I fucked up.”

“Damn right you fucked up, Simon,” Price sneered. He stared at Simon with a look of anger, before it simmered down to one of muted frustration, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut, before dropping his hand back down. “You need to let her go.”

“Who?” Simon asked, and Price scoffed.

“Don’t be coy. Gaz told me everythin’. Had Soap follow you around when you killed that Graves guy, saw you go back to your little bird’s place. You know who I’m talkin’ about.”

Fuck.

He’d been sloppy, all because of you. Simon never, in all his time of being a hitman, missed the feeling of watching eyes following him around. He never missed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at the feeling of something or someone watching, observing, never missed the shiver running down his spine in a cold chill.

“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Simon–”

“I know–”

“--yet you’re playin’ it like it is. This is a civilian’s life we’re talkin’ about, and not only did you kill Graves without payment, but you haven’t clipped your damn bird of her wings like she wants.”

Every single word was a harsh slap to the face, and Simon hated to admit that Price was right. He had rejected the job offer you’d given him from the very beginning. You wanted to die, you wanted to seek safe haven, yet he took that away from you. He wanted to save you, wanted to show you that life had meaning in its own ways, yet where were his reasons to stay?

Simon was a fucking hypocrite. Both to you, and himself.

“You know what you have to do, Simon.”

Simon stared at Price with eyes narrowed in confusion. He studied the firm lines that littered Price’s face, the way his mouth tugged into a frown, nearly covered by his facial hair. The tea he nursed was now growing cold in the presence of his lap, one hand curled around the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

“You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” Simon scoffed.

“I am, and I will. You either let her go and forget she exists, or you kill her off like you were intended to do in the first place. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll have Soap do it. Your choice.”

Price was giving Simon an option, though really, it wasn’t a choice at all. Either way, Simon would lose you, and he’d be forced to toss you aside like worthless garbage, or be forced to see the life drain from your eyes.

He fucked up, big time. He shouldn’t have brought this upon you. How selfish could he be?

Ghost was the person he was destined to be. Ghost was who he truly was. Up until he met you, he was content with that. He was the best of the best, and performed his job like it was a mundane task. Simple. Easy.

You slowed him down. You broke down the walls he’d so carefully built, brick by brick, all because you were a direct clone of who he used to be before he tread down this path of sinful bloodshed. He was an idiot to think he could have you without suffering the repercussions.

You didn’t deserve that, nor did you deserve a man like him – so broken and bruised, his heart too shattered to glue back together, not even by the tenderness of your own hands.

Maybe death really was the best ending for you. But Simon was a greedy bastard and couldn’t allow a world to spin without a piece of you occupying it.

“I’ll let her go,” he finally agreed. His tongue felt as if it were sharp as knives, slicing the gums of his mouth open with every word. Metallic saliva coated his tongue, filling his mouth with vials of blood. “I’ll cut off contact. Erase her number, forget she existed, so long as you don’t lay a hand on her.”

Price stared at him with an unreadable look. It was like he was pondering, examining, trying to crawl his way into Simon’s little mind and take a gander on what he was thinking. It was intrusive, invasive, and Simon looked away.

“She knows too much,” Price replied, tone much softer and sympathetic than before. “None of us want to hurt her, and her bein’ involved will only risk her safety. I’m happy you found somebody, Simon, I am. But you knew what you were gettin’ into. We can’t fraternize with the innocent, or else somebody else will just end up killin’ her instead of us.”

Simon scowled beneath his mask, crossing his arms over his chest in a defense mechanism. He didn’t want to admit that once again, Price was right, and Simon would’ve been the asshole that would’ve eventually gotten you killed or hurt.

Good things weren’t meant for people like him. You weren’t meant for people like him.

You were a flower in a blooming field of color, while he was the parasite that ate away at your soft petals.

Simon left Price’s with a sour taste in his mouth. It was bile rising in his throat and threatening to combust. It tainted his tongue with sickening acid, and no matter how much he tried to swallow it down, it grew stronger.

He lost track of how long he’d stared down at the messages on his phone, all from you.

“Hey, Si! Where’d you go?”

“Tell me when you have to leave for a job next time, dummy.”

“I’ll pick up some food for you later when you come by!”

Every message was a slice in the arteries of his heart. It filled him with aching pain, one nothing could ever smooth over. You were the bandages that held him together, and what was he? The bastard who took advantage.

He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t click the block button on your contact, he couldn’t walk away like he should. Not without seeing you one more time – because that’s all he was. Selfish, selfish, selfish, a word that echoed in his mind on repeat like an irritating buzz.

Simon’s legs moved on their own accord, already mapping out the path towards your apartment. He knew you’d be home, he knew you were waiting for him to return like normal for his nightly endeavors in your presence.

He moved in earnest, strides long and swift, passing by people on the street without a second thought. He kept his eyes trained forward, not letting a single distraction stop him from seeing you.

Just one goodbye. That’s all he needed.

Making it to the front of your door, he found himself slamming his fist along it, the booming knock filling the hallway. He never knocked, it wasn’t his thing, yet here he was, mind so cloudy that it was the first thing he thought to do.

When the door opened and he saw your ruffled expression, he released a sharp exhale, one he thinks he’d been holding the entire run here. His chest visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching, hand dropping to his side once the door was tugged away from his knocking.

“Simon?” you asked, lifting a hand up to grab hold of his shoulder in attempts to keep him steady while he caught his breath. “You– are you okay?”

“I–” he sputtered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simon stared at you before pushing his way into your apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it up tight.

Millions of thoughts raced around his head, and all of them revolved around you. Not a single thought went unnoticed by your being, and they fluttered around anxiously, like butterflies rapidly flapping their wings and crossing over one another.

“Simon,” you called out again, and he snapped his head to look over at you. Your face was filled with concern, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes shifted down, watching the way you frowned. Even when you were taut up tight, you still made him feel dizzy at the sight of you.

Simon’s body moved on its own accord. It was like he lost complete control, instincts taking over.

He tugged off his mask in a frenzy, letting it fall to the floor, before he surged towards you and took your lips in his. The kiss was feverish, desperate. It had your body jolting backwards at the sheer force of it, but when you regained your composure, you quickly fell into his kiss like a helpless puddle of goo.

Limbs entangled with one another, his arms bracketing around your waist and holding you as if letting go would cause you to disappear forever. Your chest was pressed flush against him, leaving you no room to wiggle out, but you melted into him with ease, uncaring of the sudden display of need.

It was dizzying, staggering. It left your mind a fumbled mess.

“Si–” you attempted to croak, word getting cut off as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart,” he breathed, nuzzling his face into the span of your jaw, lips brushing faintly against the skin. “I just need you. Please.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, hand coming up to tangle in the short locks of hair on his head. They were soft against your palm, and you smoothed them down.

“How–?”

“All of you. Please, sweetheart, just– you trust me, right?”

Selfish.

“Of course,” you mused. You felt him smile against your neck.

“Then please.”

“...Okay, Simon,” you whispered, because how could you deny the very man who did nothing but care for you to his best ability? Who saved you when nobody else was there to pick up the pieces and mend you together with the craftiness of their hands? “Okay.”

Simon breathed a heavy sigh of relief before pressing needy kisses along the expanse of your throat. Your head lolled to the side to allow him more access, mouth parting to release quiet gasps of surprise.

Every movement of his was unlike anything he’d done. He was always so calculated, so accurate and careful, yet this time, he was sloppy and unsystematic. It was as if he were only allowing his mind to take over, rather than logistics and realism.

The two of you moved in a clumsy dance, with him guiding you back towards the space of your bedroom with his arms unwavering around you and his lips continuing a messy attack on your neck. When you somehow made it past the door frame and into the comforting safe haven of your bedroom, his hands slipped down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head in a hurry.

“Is everything okay, Simon?” you asked worriedly, and he smiled at you, a tinge of sadness lingering at the back of his pupils.

“Just want to spend time with my pretty girl. Can I do that, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him when his hands came to a standstill against your hips, thumbs lightly brushing over the supple skin. His expression was so soft, one he only reserved for you and nobody else. The lines along his face were smoothened into a tender look, and you couldn’t help but admire it with a smile.

“You always can,” you assured, missing the way Simon winced.

Simon rushed forward once again, and your mouths met in an uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. It was hot and heavy, demanding and eager, and it showed in the way he lightly pushed you back to rest on your bed.

One of his hands pressed into the mattress next to your head while the other glossed over your side, cold fingertips causing goosebumps to rise. You shuddered, resting your own hands on each side of his jaw, tangling yourself and getting thrown into his web of affection.

“Wanna touch you,” he rasped, fingers sliding down to the hem of the pajama shorts you had yet to change out of, toying with it but not daring to pry until your say so. “Please.”

You sucked in a breath before promptly nodding, and that was all he needed to slip his fingers past the waistband, dipping his fingers into the warmth of your cunt. He was greeted with sweet wetness, and he let out a quiet groan into the curve of your neck, pressing a messy kiss there.

The pads of his fingers scooped up a bit of your slick like candied nectar, before rolling it around your clit, causing your legs to jolt in surprise. Air filled your lungs, burning at the expanding of your chest, before being released in a blissful form of a sigh, eyes fluttering up at him.

“M’gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmured against your neck.

Simon’s fingers continued to toy at your clit with a feverish motion, circling at a messy pace. It wasn’t steady, but it didn’t matter – it felt good, and it brought butterflies to swarm in your stomach, blooming at the newfound feeling.

He was so gentle in the way he treated you, yet balanced it out with subtle desperation that had your toes curling as he worked wonders against your cunt. He’d circle your clit, before dipping down to tease at the wetness that sopped out of your hole, just to slide back up to continue the torturous prodding against your sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Simon,” you breathed, voice cracking.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his voice laced with sultry sweetness to it. “That okay, pretty girl? Wanna ruin you, fuck.”

“Please,” you pleaded, and the shakiness in your tone had him kissing you once before sliding his lips down. His fingers slipped out of your shorts, and before you could protest, they tugged down the fabric, soft against your legs, before he dropped them on the floor.

His hands gently spread your legs, and without a single hint of warning, you felt the warmth of his tongue press flat against your clit while his finger eased inside of you. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a strangled noise, hand frantically grasping on to his hair and gripping.

It was like the heavens were opening in the clouds above, shining warm rays of light all over you and heating you up from the inside. It was a delicious feeling, the way he sucked and slobbered all over your cunt like a man on a mission, his finger fucking inside of you with earnest.

Messy sounds filled the room combined with your pitiful whimpers and gasps of his name, and they only egged him on further.

If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he’d make it count. Your pleasure was his, and nothing else mattered.

One finger quickly became two, and he created a rhythm between fucking you with his fingers and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. The stimulation had you keening, already teetering on the edge of insanity. Your mind was blank and void of anything but moans of Simon’s name.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he breathed into your cunt, making you whine. “Come on. Cum on my fingers, know you can.”

His voice sent vibrations straight through your body, and your back arched with a wail, thighs clamping around his head in a death grip. They shook with the aftershocks of your climax, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing down every bit of you until it became too much.

He only released you when your fingers tugged on his hair, and when he sat back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Simon smiled at you, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, pouring over with nothing short of admiration and awe.

You laid on the bed, breathless and sated, a sheen of sweat covering the expanse of your skin. It glimmered in the dim light of your room, and he pressed delicate kisses along the salty sweetness, making his way up your body.

“So good, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Told you m’gonna take care of you.”

You could nothing but nod dumbly, eyes half lidded as you watched him reach down between your two bodies to fiddle with the buckle of his pants. It clanged together, filling the air with glimpses of what was to come next, and when he got it undone, he wasted no time in tugging them down until he was bare from the waist down.

The sight was beautiful. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, a slight shine over the flushed tip from precum, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

This was Simon in all of his glory, and only you had been the lucky one to see it. What an honor.

“So pretty,” Simon breathed, causing your gaze to snap up from his cock and to his face. His mouth was parted as his large hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he looked at you. His breath fanned over your mouth from the close proximity. “So beautiful. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mind turned to mush at his words. You squirmed against the bed sheets, shyly looking away from him. His free hand came up to gently grasp your jaw, drawing you back to look at him, and his smile knocked the wind out of you.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he repeated, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

The feeling of the head of his cock lining up with your entrance had you gasping into his mouth, and he smiled against you, eyes unwavering from yours as he stretched you open.

It was an ecstatic feeling, one that filled you to the brim with elation. It burned inside of you with flickering flames of want.

He continued to push, and push, until he was flush with you, fully seated inside of your warm, slippery heat. There was a scratch that only Simon could itch, and he knew this. It was why when he began to move inside of you, he started off slow before burrowing into a needy pace filled with smothering desire.

Simon rested his forearms on each side of your head, hovering over you while his hips snapped into you, greedily taking everything you had to offer. It sent you into a puddled mess, mouth hung open as throaty moans escaped every time he took more and more. Your fingernails dug into his biceps, grounding yourself as much as you could with the way your body jolted back and forth from the force of him fucking you.

Fucking? Is that what it was? It felt much more meaningful than that. Simon kissed you with sentiment, thrust into you with aching longingness, praised you like a goddess in the sky and you were his saint.

His groans and grunts filled your ears like lovely symphonies, each note sending goosebumps to rise along your arms and neck. It was a beautiful song, filling you with the wonders of emotions. You couldn’t get enough.

“My pretty girl,” he sighed. His own words seem to turn him on further, as his pace increased, becoming an aggressive slap of skin with every thrust. His cock dragged mercifully along the walls of your cunt, his leaking tip hitting the spongy spot and causing your body to go lax as you took and took. “What are you doin’ t’me?”

“Simon,” you whimpered, and he chuckled out a breathy laugh. With his forearms still resided on the sides of your head, his fingers interlocked on the top of your head, holding you firm against him and keeping you in place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me. Don’t deserve you.”

You clamped around him, causing him to groan. His pace was becoming messy and sloppy, but no less relenting.

“I’ll make sure you’re cared for. Won’t ever have to worry ‘bout anythin’ with me around,” he whispered, and you weren’t fully processing the words. To you, it was mindless babble that you simply took in through the hazy state of your mind, nodding eagerly at every empty promise.

The two of you were growing restless, your bodies building a molten core of unleashed pleasure that threatened to erupt at any given moment. It was hot and scalding, burning the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, almost mockingly. You cried, fingernails digging into his biceps so harshly, the skin nearly broke with pebbled drops of blood. “Yeah? Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Your own body was betraying you, and you succumbed to the burst of bliss, chest pressing up against his, needy cries singing from your lips. Your eyes spotted with hints of black, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Simon didn’t allow himself his own pleasure until you had yours, so when he felt you clench around him in a vice, he let himself go, spilling into you and flooding you with milky warmth. It coated your insides like a beautiful painting, filling you with douses of his undying affection.

He slumped on to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. The two of you laid there in comforting silence, catching your breaths and processing the new intimacy formed between you.

While you were riding on a cloud of euphoria, Simon was being dragged into the deepest pits of hell.

Selfish.

What a horrible person he was. All he had to do was let you go, but he did even worse than he had done before.

This was worse than killing men and women. This was worse than killing Graves out of rage.

He was going to leave you behind, make you feel like you meant nothing more than a calculated fuck, and he was going to burn in hell for it. All because he fell in love with you, all because he couldn’t kill you.

When Simon helped clean you up and buried you in your blankets, he waited until you were asleep, sedated and happy. Your frown lines were smoothed over with a look of peace and ecstasy, and he traced along the flush of your skin until he knew it was time.

He carefully made his way out of the comfort of your bed, movements slow as not to disturb you. He gathered his clothes, sifting them on with a hint of resentment for his own actions, and he left.

Just like that, he left.

Simon blocked your number without so much as a goodbye text, or an explanation, telling you that you did nothing wrong. He didn’t tell you that he was the issue, that he was the one in the wrong. Didn’t tell you he fell in love with you, and now he was facing the consequences for it.

He typed out one final message to Price, hoping to satisfy the bastard for what he forced him to do.

“It’s done.”

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw3 #cod x reader #ghost cod #john price #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #hitman au #cod fanfic #ghost

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astrolynnworld · 5 months

Text

stress reliever

pairing: chris x reader

summary: the baby is taking a toll on the readers mental health so chris decides to be her stress reliever

warnings: smut! pregnant reader, mental health, sadness, stress, smut, language, dom chris, reassurance, praise, love, romance

a/n: love me a request

word count: 1,127

life sucks so much lately. everything is a nuisance

i feel like my decisions aren’t mine anymore, everything i do revolves around this baby.

and i can’t help but feel like that’s never gonna change.. because isn’t that what having a kid is like?

putting them first above you at all times because you want them to push for more than you ever could?

it’s all so stressful. i wouldn’t even know the first thing about being a mother, yet i have 4 months until i officially become one.

i can’t even do the things i used to enjoy anymore. all i do is eat, sleep, feel sick, and linger around the house

chris tries his best to keep me active and motivated but nothing has been working

i feel like he can tell that i’ve been so down lately

———————————————————————

“baby come on let’s go for a walk” chris begs

“i don’t want too. i want to stay in bed” i reply

“come on, you’ve been in bed all day. let’s go outside” he responds back

“chris it’s fine, the day is almost over. we don’t need to be outside doing absolutely nothing.” i snap then retract

chris climbs into bed with me

“baby what’s wrong.. honestly” he starts up

i sigh trying to hold back my tears, “i just feel like im not ready to be a mother”

“why would you ever think that baby?” he says softly

“how am i supposed to take care of our baby girl when i can barely take care of myself? i have NOTHING going for myself chris.” i start the sentence to my mini rant

“how will she ever look up to her failure of a mother? the mother with a shitty job, no car, and can’t even make anything of herself” i say starting to cry at this point

“i’m NOT ready to bring a child into my world. im going to be a TERRIBLE mother chris. don’t you see that?” i ask rhetorically while resting my face in my hands

chris grabs my chin, “y/n..”

“don’t chris.” i say

“look at me y/n”

i look up to a soft kind glare plastered on chris’ face

he starts wiping my tears away, “you’re the most beautiful, kindest, honest, loving, hard working woman i know”

“there is not a doubt in my mind that you’re going to be an amazing and incredible mother” he continues

“you’re not afraid speak your mind, you’re so independent, you don’t let any obstacle overcome who you are, and you’re always down for a good challenge”

i let out a soft smile

“i’d be LUCKY if our daughter was anything like you. i’d rather nothing more.”

“do you really mean that?” i ask

“you think our daughter should come out anything like me” he says while laughing

“no..” i chuckle back

“exactly. you don’t see what i see but of course you’re the perfect role model for our daughter, you’re an amazing person y/n. and i know you’re going to be an amazing mother.” he responds back in a smile

i calm down and give chris a hug

“im so grateful that i have you by my side doing this with me” i say as i hug him tighter

i pull away and give him a kiss

“i love you so much y/n” he says before giving me another kiss

then another one..

and another one…

“christopher.” i laugh

“come on” he smiles as he flips me on my back, “your lips are so soft” he dives back into another kiss

he starts kissing down my neck

“chris.. you don’t have to do this” i say as i put up a little resistance

“shh baby, just let me show you how amazing you are” he responds

i nod my head bring my neck up for another kiss on the lips. to which he fulfills

he keeps kissing me as he slides me out of my pants and underwear.

“fuck your pussy is so pretty baby.” he says while rubbing my clit

i let out a slight moan at the warm hand rubbing my juices in

“so wet for me baby” he says as he lifts his hand to taste my juices

“you make me so hard baby”

“chris please..” i whine

“please what baby” he responds

“please fuck me”

“dont need to ask me twice” he chuckles as he whips out his cock

he starts teasing the outside of my pussy with his head

causing me to arch my back into the sheets

“fuck you’re so hot baby. how bad do you want it”

“so bad, please please please put it in baby” i beg

he slides his cock in slowly and i whimper at the feeling of his member filling my hole

“fuck chris. i forget how big you are” i whisper in a whine

he bends his head to meet a kiss on my lips as he starts to slide in and out

“you’re so perfect for me baby, don’t ever forget that.” he says through grunts

“you’re mine. only mine” he continues

i continue to let the praise wash over me as he pounds inside me

“i want you to say it for me baby. say that you’re mine” he says while picking up the pace

“im yours chris” i whimper

“say that you’re my pretty little girl” he demands

“im your pretty little girl chris only yours” i continue to whine

“yes baby. say that you’re an good girl” he continues

“i’m such a good gir- fuck. i’m the best girl”

“yes keep saying it baby, i want to hear you louder” he groans

“i’m a good girl chris. i’m such a good girl. i’m only your good girl. i’m a good girl.” i continue as i feel my orgasm overtake my stomach

chris’ pace quickens as he feels my pussy clench around him

“ooh fuck chris. don’t stop.” i beg him as i ride my high out

“i’m gonna cum too baby” chris cries

“yes baby cum in me. fill me up” i moan out to him

he throws his head up and lets out a loud exhale from his mouth as he releases his all into me

“oh my go- fuck.” says chris

i start chuckling

“what’s so funny” he says as he starts looking down at me

“nothing. i just love you so much” i reply

“well i love you more baby. i hope you never have to question my love for you”

he pulls out of me and helps me up so we can wipe me down and put my clothes on

“i hope that took all your worries and stress away princess” he says as he gives me a quick kiss on the forehead

———————————————————————

a/n- i don’t know if i’m tagging right but @sturnioloenthusiast @littlebookworm803 <3

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nyashykyunnie · 20 days

Text

˗ˏˋ Boyfriend! Jinwoo x Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ �� .˚ₓ

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Let Me Pluck Out The Stars For You, Sunshine ] ¡! ❞

You don't know how you did it, but somehow the infamous Sung Jinwoo who is reveled in your grade level for his exceptional looks— Is your boyfriend. You were about to go home since the last bell of the school day rang in the distance. As you get up, you feel someone's chin rest on top of your hair. "Wanna walk home together, again?" Jinwoo asks with his calm and deep voice, his tone holding a sweet edge to it. "Hm?"

The pressure on top of your head had successfully snapped you out of your daze. Jinwoo removes himself from being nestled on your hair and looks down on your lovely face with the sweetest smiles on his face.

You shy away from his gaze, nodding your head slowly.

“Hm,” Jinwoo nods his head, leaning in to kiss the top of your head before stretching his large hand out to you— Offering it.

As soon as your palm touches his, Jinwoo lightly intertwines your fingers together as he leads you down the stairs.

He knew for a fact that you’re probably upset and not in the mood to talk about it. He wasn’t the type of boyfriend who would probe at his lover to get them to talk.

No.

Jinwoo was the type of person who is silent when he is upset, he’d rather be on his bed and dead asleep— Away from the world. He was often in his room whenever he wasn’t in the mood.

And today in particular, his beloved must be going through those emotions seeing how dejected and sluggish they are moving.

He shakes his head, gently tugging you to the alleyway and placing a finger on your lips to keep you from asking.

“It’s alright,” Jinwoo says. “How about we go on a makeshift date? It’s not a school day tomorrow so let’s spend the night away”

You didn’t protest, and in an instant, Jinwoo wrapped his arms around your waist, holding your waist as close as possible while the darkness beneath your feet hummed and whirled— As if it was rising. You then feel yourself getting lifted off of the ground and you panic.

“Sarang, it’s okay” Jinwoo chuckles, kissing your cheek as the shadows rose beneath the both of you and formed into a dragon made of misty shadows. “It’s all mine, so don’t be afraid”

As you both rose above the city lights, your eyes would then sweep towards the brilliant lights of the cityscape as Jinwoo flies both of you above it on the dragon’s back.

While your eyes are busily distracted on the cityscape, Jinwoo leans towards your ear— Kissing the shell sweetly to get your attention.

“How come you’re already this distracted, hm? I haven’t even started yet?” Jinwoo gently says as he commands his shadow to traverse over the expansive ocean glistening beneath the bright moonlight.

Fast as everything was, Jinwoo was unconsciously doing it because he felt like he would run out of time. After all, he wasn’t able to spend time with you like this before he had resetted time after defeating all the monarchs. He wanted to do so many things at once.

He spent years in the abyssal world murdering the monarchs all over again and levelling up. The stress of it all put him into a trance-like state where he feels just so lost in a complete daze of battle and bathing in blood as he leaves a river of bodies at his wake.

But either way, it isn’t about him tonight.

It’s about you.

The you who needs him at this moment. He doesn’t know what has frustrated you to this point. It could be the piling homeworks, the anxiety of your grades, the stress over preparing for the upcoming exams. Projects had been piling left and right with each subject becoming harder and harder.

Everything had just been stressful for you and he knew that you craved isolation more than anything else and you needed something to just take your mind off of anywhere.

And thank god it was working as he had taken you to an isolated island not yet soiled by human hands.

He loves the way your dreamy eyes would twinkle as you both traversed in the vast woods of the weird place. It was all just greenery and lovely fireflies fluttering about, illuminating the little path you were both exploring. Of course, Jinwoo summons a little flame on his hand so that you could see the plants you are stepping on.

Jinwoo loves that expression more than anything. Your pretty little face beaming with joy as it observes all the wonderful things this lone island had to bring. Tall, ancient old trees that had a comforting scent to them. The gentle rustles of the leaves as if it were singing melodies for you, the sounds of distant owls hooting were making you jump from spook and wonder, everything in here was just making you squeal like a child opening a christmas gift.

And behind you was your boyfriend, a gentle smile on his lips as he lovingly watched you prance around the fallen leaves and branches.

“Feeling better?” Jinwo asks sweetly, his arm finding itself instinctively wrapped around your waist.

You nod your head, and he rewards you again with another kiss.

You really can’t tell how many times he had kissed your forehead for the whole day at this point, he just kept giving you pecks left and right. As if he was making sure every pore on your face isn’t untouched by him. He would bring up your hand to his lips, kissing every knuckle on it, silently making promises.

“Baby…” He purrs softly, nuzzling the side of your head with his nose, inhaling in your scent. “If there’s anything that bothers you, tell me, tell me and I’ll bring you somewhere far away to take your mind off of it. You just need to ask me, and I will do it. Don’t hide yourself from me”

Please,...

Don’t be like him, don’t be like him who needed to bottle up everything in his heart because he had a duty as a monarch. You shouldn’t be hiding away the pain you have inside your chest, you shouldn’t be in any sort of pain.

Jinwoo had resetted time for everyone’s sake, yes, but mostly it was because of you. He wanted to make up the lost time he had with you ever since he became a player. He felt awfully guilty for not having taken you out on dates. Sure, he did a few times when he was an S-ranked but most of the time he is drowned in work and you are left in your devices. The person who had supported him throughout all of his suffering.

He is doing this all to ask for forgiveness, each kiss is a silent sorry for the many seconds he had spent away from you.

So please,

Don’t let your heart be burdened with worries.

Don’t ever let your pretty face be crinkled with anxiety.

Let him do the heavy-lifting. Let him have the burden. Let him receive all the woe that is meant to befall on your pretty, pretty little face.

Like the stars above your heads, twinkling from millions of lightyears away, his love for you— Will always and continue to be endless as they are blanketing the dark night sky.

A/N: Sorry, this fic is very messy aaa... I'll make it up to you guys with another fic coming out soon. But I may need to recover my creative juices for a bit and just let myself charge uueee.. I'll probably recreate this fic again with an alternative route

#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jinwoo fic #ore dake level up na ken #sung jinwoo imagines #sung jinwoo hcs

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alessiathepirate · 9 months

Text

Hannibal NBC

THE SIMPLICITY THEY SHOULD HAVE: Will Graham x fem!reader

Summary: She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. Watching him sit on the floor working on those boat motors was the sight she wanted to see everyday.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

So- I actually looked up an article about boat motors and about how to repair them, so I can describe it in a close-enough way, but in reality I've never seen a single boat motor in my life. So if it isn't desribed like it should be described - I'm sorry.

Warnings: references to Will's work, but surprisingly nothing more

•••

She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. The things that made him relaxed, but entertained in a good way.

It didn't only give Will a peace of mind, it also made her feel a certain kind of calmness and safety she's never felt when Will was out working on a case, trying to get into people's minds.

Watching him sit on the floor working on those boat motors as the muscles around his eyes and mouth tensed up from concentration was the sight she wanted to see everyday. When he isn't thinking about anything gruesome, when he isn't scared of nightmares or for her safety, when he is home doing what he likes with all his dogs around him being lazy - that was the sight she liked, those were the happiest moments she had about Will.

It felt domestic. It felt normal.

It felt like something they should have everyday.

The simplicity of it was the thing what made it so special - because otherwise nothing about their relationship was simple.

She was lying on her stomach in their shared bed, keeping herself up on her elbows. She was supposed to be reading, so she can finally finish the book she has started months ago but couldn't find the time to finish because of all the crazy, abnormal things that had been going on. This was the only normal evening they've had in months, the only truly relaxing one, yet the book isn't the real entertainment.

Will on the other hand certainly is.

"It's not very nice to stare."

His voice is truly entertaining too, especially when it's calm, relaxed and slightly teasing.

"I never said I'm a nice person." she said, not even trying to hide her smile.

"Really? I thought I'm dating a nice person." he didn't look up from his work, his hands were still moving the screwdriver he was holding, trying to get a stuck screw out.

"I can be nice." she started, feeling her heart flutter as she noticed how Will's curls were messier than usual - God, he looked cute. "Just not when I have such a handsome boyfriend to look at."

That made Will look up, finding her gaze and making eye contact, abandoning his work for a while. She almost giggled at how his cheeks turned into a slight pink shade at her compliment. She rarely saw Will blush, very rarely.

"Such a charmer."

"I try my best." she smirked. " 'Everything alright with the motor?"

"Yeah, the screw's stuck but it'll be fine." he looked down at the boat motor, then back at her. "So, you abandoned the book again."

"Yes." she answered shortly and then continued: "I found something much more entertaining."

"That's a very nice book." Will voice carried a teasing edge.

"Yeah, well I just decided to enjoy the moment." she lost the smirk and the teasing, and used a sincere smile and honesty instead. "We rarely have a calm evening these days. I'd rather spend it watch- admiring you and talking to you, than look at words my mind can't comprehend right now anyway."

Will lost the smirk too and the small, happy smile he sent her way was truly the cutest thing she's seen him do so far. It wasn't anything big, sure. It wasn't a surprise date, it wasn't a gift she wouldn't need anyway - it was something she really wanted to see: a honest smile. A smile what told her everything and a smile what didn't hold anything back. He was comfortable, well rested and happy - the only thing she wanted.

"Come here." he said those two words softly, there was nothing rude or demanding about it.

She got off the bed and walked toward him. When he patted the floor next to where he was sitting, she understood what he wanted. She sat down next to him and crossed her legs.

"Would you like to help me?"

It was rare that he asked for help - no matter the context.

He trusted her, he loved her - she was sure of that. For a second she was too scared to open her mouth and speak, not wanting to ruin the softness of the moment.

"Of course." she swallowed; she was unable to hold back a smile. "What are we doing?"

"We'll try to remove the propeller so we can replace it with a new one. Then we'll try to find out why the battery is dead and if the spark plug needs to be changed." he explained it slowly and patiently, taking a look at her face here and there, making sure she understands what he's saying. "Sounds good?"

"Yeah. How can I help?"

"If you could get this screw out so we can take the propeller off, that'd be awesome."

"I can try."

She took the screwdriver from him as he turned the boat motor towards her so she can get to work. The first time tried to remove it the screw didn't move at all. That's why the second time she tried it she used more force - and to her surprise the screw moved.

She looked up at Will for a second with a grin. "It looks like that's something only women can do."

"Right. Thanks." she could hear that he was smiling, his pride wasn't hurt like any other man's would be.

"What now?" she asked as she took off the propeller.

"Now we'll take a look at the spark plug..."

And Will started to explain everything. He told her how to take the spark plug out, he explained what the most common problems are that can kill the battery in seconds. He spoke and then let her do the work, praising her when she did something right and chuckling when she messed something up. He corrected her and then watched her work with a smile.

She had a feeling that he likes to explain it to her, he likes the thought that he can teach her something new what isn't criminal profiling or basic self defense stuff.

By the time the motor was taken apart her fingers felt numb and she felt herself getting tired. Will must've felt it too, because he took the wrench she had in her hand.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"No, but I think for today you've done enough."

"Enough good stuff?"

"You've done a wonderful job with this for a rookie." Will's smile was genuine - so was hers.

"Yeah, no surprise you're a teacher. You can explain how everything works really well." she rested her head on his shoulder and even if Will tensed up a little from the sudden affection, he didn't push her away - he pressed a soft, barely even a real kiss to the top of her head.

"I think you should go ahead and lie down. I'll join you in a second."

"No. I'll wait here with you."

And she waited.

She waited until he put the new propeller on. She watched as he checked on the oil. She watched as he started to clean up the mess - putting different tools into the toolbox and cleaning the floor with the rag he had close by.

At some point they changed their position. Maybe it was because of Will moving and turning while trying to not move to far away from her - she didn't know for sure. But she was hugging his shoulders from behind while she rested her chin in the crook of his neck and her legs were wrapped around his waist.

It was a comfortable position for her - and must have been a pretty uncomfortable one for Will.

But he didn't complain. Sometimes he brushed his hand along her shin or knee, or took one of her hands and held it. And it was Heaven.

She couldn't really believe in anything good in this world, not after she saw what the world is like and how bad it actually is. She saw it all through Will's work and night terrors - but one thing was for sure, in that moment she felt like they were both in Heaven. They were home, they were close, the dogs were lazily lying on the rug around them.

It felt safe.

It felt normal.

It felt nice.

"Sweetheart?" she was half asleep when Will finally spoke up, his voice wasn't more than a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go to bed, okay?"

"Sure." she answered, but stayed still for a moment. "Will?"

He hummed and she felt the noise go through his whole body.

"I like these evenings. The calm ones."

Will didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She knew he felt the same way. She knew it because he took her hand and pressed a kiss on it. She knew it because he carried her to bed. She knew it because that night he didn't wake up from a night terror.

She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. But she liked it more when he slept calmly.

#nbc hannibal #will graham deserves the world #hannibal #hannibal the series #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x fem!reader

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couldyouimagine-that · 4 months

Text

Shattered Glass

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count; 2.1k

Warnings; mention of nightmares, talk of injuries (reader removes glass from Lucifer’s wing, not explicitly described)

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

Lucifer goes to the reader for help with an injured wing and the reader shows him some kindness despite everything. Lucifer makes an attempt at reciprocating it.

This is the longest piece I’ve written in a while and I had a lot of fun writing it. Enjoy!

Masterlist

You were laying on top of your bed in the bunker, a drink in hand and trying to read something to distract yourself from everything which was going on. It was easier said than done, but you were planning on going to sleep soon and you wanted to calm yourself first to have the best chance of getting actual rest, rather than just a series of nightmares. Too many times had you ended up alone in the kitchen at some ungodly hour wishing your brain would stop sabotaging you. But not tonight; you had decided.

A knock at your door interrupted your efforts, though you assumed it was nothing dire from the lack of urgency. You called out that it was okay to come in, expecting Dean or Sam, or even Castiel at a stretch. What you got was Lucifer.

He offered a slightly sheepish grin as you sat up, book forgotten and mouth open slightly in shock. He slid through the open door and closed it behind him, leaning back against it and keeping a hand on the handle. You blinked a few times, mind whirring as you tried to decide what was going on.

“Can I help you?” You settled on at length when he made no move to speak. His gaze on you was intense, his jaw tightening.

“Actually, yes. See I have this problem.” You stayed still as he began to walk over to you, steps slow and hands clearly devoid of weaponry. Not that he would need any, but it was at least slightly reassuring. “When we were fighting those demons earlier, I used my grace to torch the last few. Remember?” You nodded that you did. “Well, when I use my grace, my wings manifest in shadow. And that’s usually fine.”

By this point, he was standing right next to your bed. You had to crane your neck to look up at him and found that his eyes were still locked on yours. He made a sweeping gesture with the hand closest to your bed.

“May I?” You thought rapidly, but with no knowledge of what this was about, you had no idea what was for the best. You ended up just scooting back a little to give him more space, though you were sure you should have simply kicked him out by now. Dean would be running for the archangel blade right that second if he knew. But he didn’t, and the light smile Lucifer offered you in thanks was not what you had been expecting. “This time though – well, it’s such a small thing it’s stupid.” You stayed quiet, watching him deliberate on what to say next. Thinking about why he was trying to avoid saying what he actually came here to say. Was he nervous? He took in sharp breath, muttering, “Right, just get it out.” Then, louder, “My power shattered a few windows behind me when I had my wings out. Some of the glass got stuck at the base of one of them and I can’t get it out myself, and I can't heal it while it's still in there.” He looked at you expectantly, lips tight. You felt your eyes narrow a little in response, assessing him.

“And you want me to get it out?” He spread his hands in a motion you would have said meant thank god coming from any other being.

“Finally. Would you? You know what Sam and Dean are like. And Cassie, well… I just don’t think he would.”

Your jaw worked for a moment as you watched him. For you to do any kind of first aid on his wings, he would have to manifest them fully, which you didn’t even know was a possibility. You had spoken to Castiel about an angel’s wings more than once and from your conversations, you knew they were sacred. You were sure Lucifer wouldn’t treat his own wings carelessly, which meant that showing them to anyone, let alone allowing someone to touch them, required a great deal of trust. Even if this was the Devil who you were dealing with. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had chosen to trust you. He raised his eyebrows to encourage an answer when you didn’t immediately give him one. Still more than a little confused, you started nodding.

“Okay. I can do that.” You spoke slowly, but he seemed more than eager to just get it over with.

He offered you a cocky smirk that you were now certain was fake, before he turned away from you. You watched as he dropped his button up from his shoulders then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his back to you. Your gaze traced along the contours of his back and shoulders somewhat absently, until he glanced over at you.

“Get out of the way, I don’t want to knock you out.”

That was all the warning you got as blinding angelic light filled the room, leaving your eyes smarting. You squinted heavily, failing to regain your ability to see when you heard an exasperated sigh and felt a light, fleeting pressure on your forehead. Your vision cleared instantaneously, in time to see Lucifer’s retreating hand and then – his wings. They were pure white, near perfectly kempt in spite of everything he had been through and impossibly huge. You were sure you had gasped, barely able to comprehend that they practically reached across the whole room. The end primaries curved powerfully, almost as long as you were tall. And they looked heavy, but they melded seamlessly with Lucifer’s back and he seemed not to notice their weight at all. He felt the mattress shift as you kneeled behind him speechlessly, and he drummed his fingers sharply on the bedframe.

“Come on, Y/N, daylight’s wasting. Things to do-”

“They’re beautiful.” His frown was heavy. Your voice had been soft, filled with a quiet wonder he didn’t think he had ever heard from you. The weight of your gaze on him felt like a physical pressure, one he wanted to disrupt.

“They’re what?” His words were harsh as he turned to look at you, but you didn’t seem to care.

“Can I touch them?” Your eyes met his and there was that stupid soft voice again. He should have tried his luck with Castiel, he thought irritably as he turned his back to you once more, presenting silent permission. But your touch didn’t alight on the bloody base of the injured wing. Instead, you ran your fingertips along the top edge of the other one, your touch sickeningly light. He actually bared his teeth with the effort it took not to shudder, swearing at himself silently. He was the Devil! He had lived for eons, he had survived everything that had ever been. And here he was, reduced to nothing by simple touch.

Your hand returned to the muscle near the base of his wing, your movements growing more confident. You lightly wound your fingers between the shorter coverts until your nails grazed the skin beneath, combing your fingers downwards like you would through someone’s hair. And you stopped short at the clipped, low noise Lucifer emitted. Your hands flew to his shoulders on instinct as you leaned forwards to see his face.

“Oh my god I’m sorry, did I hurt-”

You froze yet again, this time in surprise. He met your eyes with a lidded gaze, his chest heaving. He actually had to swallow before he could speak.

“They’re sensitive,” Lucifer ground out, cursing everything in all of creation for the situation he had put himself in, the weakness he had shown to you. You, a human of all things! At least if Castiel had agreed to help, he would have just gotten the job done and left. Or left the glass in place, Lucifer supposed. That was an option too.

You suddenly seemed to realised that you had your hands on his bare shoulders and you lifted them quickly, shrinking back a little. You looked unsure of yourself.

“Sorry, I – I’ll just get on with it. Sorry.” Your words were mumbled as you ducked behind his back and out of the way of his eyes. A few minutes ago, you would have been surprised by how minor the wound was. You would have been more surprised by the hiss which issued forth when you fished out the few small pieces of glass, but you understood now how much it had to have hurt. Uncertain yet again, you laid a flat palm to the area above the injury.

“That’s it, you’re done,” you told him, and immediately a little bit of that angelic light shone around the wound. When it was gone, so was the blood and the damage.

A beat passed. Your hand was still on his wing and he hadn’t moved yet, and neither one of you wanted to speak. It was on impulse and at the risk of a slow, painful death that you cautiously moved your touch back up to the leading edge of his wing. You couldn't help but be enraptured. Your fingers curled over the top and applied a gentle pressure as you ran your hand along in the direction of the feathers, their soft give like the cool scales of a serpent. The whole wing jolted when you reached the joint halfway down, and you could feel the outline of the lightweight bones which held so much power. Transfixed as you were, you had forgotten exactly what was sitting in front of you.

Lucifer’s wings snapped tight to his back as he stood without warning, and you threw yourself backwards to avoid getting hit in the face.

“Enough,” he warned, though his voice was ragged. He flicked a hand and the bloodied glass you were still holding vanished, leaving you to slowly sit up from where you had caught your weight on your elbows. He snatched up his clothes and made for the door without another word, but you scrambled to follow.

“Lucifer, wait,” you tried, struggling to cross the room before he reached the hallway. You laid a careful hand against his back before he could leave, over the ridge of his spine. Nowhere near his wings. And for the moment, at least, he paused. “You know I won’t use this against you,” you breathed, nervous of the implied loyalty behind your words in spite of everything he had done. “Right?” You couldn’t help feeling a little sick when he didn’t answer. Even though it was Lucifer, even though he had killed and tortured and tormented for longer than you could comprehend, he had needed help, and he had trusted you enough to make himself vulnerable to you in order to get it. You didn’t want him to leave thinking you would throw something like that back in his face, no matter what he had done.

When he still didn’t speak, you made yet another decision that you were sure would have bad consequences and leaned forward to wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back in the space between his wings. They drew in tighter still, stiffness radiating from them.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

You went to move back but his hand caught your arms before you could. He felt sure that you would betray him when the time came, but right now, you were the one in danger. You had no weapon that could harm him and you were trying to show him trust in return for his own. A human taking a risk like that with him, he could appreciate.

Lucifer angled a wing over your head so he could turn to face you, his arms encircling your shoulders and upper back and holding you to him. He knew you were being sincere, so for once he just let himself enjoy the moment. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had wanted to be so close to him in such a soft capacity, if it had ever happened when the other person had known who he truly was. You were nervous, yes, but you slowly relaxed into his hold and he allowed his wings to stretch out to a more natural resting position in turn. It was when he realised that your eyes were closed and you were leaning your bodyweight against him that he decided it was time to go.

You almost face planted into the ground when the archangel simply ceased to be present, barely catching yourself against the door. A brief jolt of fear shot through you when you thought over what you had done, but you quickly decided - or at least hoped - that it wouldn't matter too much in the long run.

#supernatural lucifer x reader #spn lucifer x reader #supernatural lucifer #spn lucifer #spn fanfic #spnfamily #spnfandom #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #lucifer

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drgenius-reid · 5 months

Text

In the Quiet

A/N: Happy New Year! I wrote this short little piece for the wonderful @foxy-eva. I hope you like it, friend! 🤎

Summary: After partying at Rossi’s, you and Spencer are in bed together talking about the family you have at work.

Word Count: 1320

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. I think that’s it, honestly.

It was in the quiet, when it was just you and Spencer in bed, recounting the day you’d had with the only light coming from the moon outside, that you loved the most. It was when Spencer pulled you lovingly into his arms and held you close, pressing soft kisses to your temple mumbling, ‘You’re allowed to rest, my love,’ against your skin.

It was when your mind was far from quiet, still reeling from a gruelling case that had well and truly taken everything out of you, and you didn’t want to relax but tried anyway. It was in your fiancé’s arms, your head on his chest and his heart beating against your cheek where you were almost able to forget everything you had seen and calm down from a busy evening out with friends.

After getting home from a rather demanding time in Ohio that took more out of you than normal, you’d gotten to the office to find Penelope dancing around the office to try and forget about the gruesome details you’d had to feed her during the case. The second she saw you all walk through the doors to the bullpen she lit up even further, rushing over to you with a tray of drinks.

‘I thought we could have a little BAU party!’ She beamed, holding the tray for you all to take a drink from it. You knew that she was trying to ignore the pain that rushed through her in the only way she knew how, by showering everyone with love and positivity. And fun drinks. ‘These ones have no alcohol but if we go to the bar we can absolutely get alcoholic ones.’

Unlike everyone else, Rossi found the idea of going to the bar less than appealing. Not when he had perfectly good alcohol and floors and tables that weren’t sticky at his place. Everyone was more than willing to take him up on the offer, knowing that he had the good stuff that you didn’t have to pay for.

Within minutes of finishing your drink and JJ putting the empty glasses in the kitchenette to clean the following day, you all headed down to the parking garage so that you could head to Dave’s house. You and Spencer, who had gotten to work the previous week on public transport, climbed into the back of Derek’s car where Spencer rested his hand on your thigh instantly.

Neither of you were huge fans of PDA but in the quiet moments where he put his hand on your body and held you close were some of your favourites. The warmth of his hand radiated through your body and made you forget about the cold Virginia weather momentarily.

‘Do we think that Emily and Derek decided to go to a club after like they said they would in the car?’

Spencer’s nose was buried in your neck and you sighed happily as he snuggled into you. Despite him not showing huge amounts of physical affection while you were out of the house, the second you were in your own space he was all over you. His hands roamed your body any time they could, and he loved to hide his face in your neck with his lips trailing over your skin.

‘There is a ninety nine point nine percent chance that they are currently in a club somewhere being one another’s wing…person.’

Emily and Derek, though happy to be going to Rossi’s house for the evening, had spent the entire car ride talking about whether they had it in them to go partying after the party.

‘Our very own two person after party!’ Emily had laughed as Derek pulled up to a stop sign. ‘We can be each other’s wing person. Think of all the ladies, Morgan. Think of the ladies.’

Derek turned to face Emily and tilted his head. Even in the dim light of the car you knew that he was smirking. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as the light turned to green and he accelerated once more.

‘Well if it’s for the ladies.’

‘And the point one percent?’ You asked Spencer, gripping his hand that sat at your middle tightly, needing to be as close to him as physically possible.

‘They’re passed out somewhere in Rossi’s house.’

You breathed a laugh and made a mental note to text Emily before bed and find out what she wound up getting up to after you and Spencer had left Rossi’s.

‘If we’d have stayed there any longer we would have passed out on his couch too. Well I would have anyway. You slept on the jet for most of the flight. Even through turbulence!’

Spencer hummed against your neck, trailing his lips across the soft skin. The heat from his breath and the softness of his kisses had your eyes falling closed on their own accord. You relaxed yourself into his touch, physically feeling the stress leave your body. He ran his tongue across the bottom of your neck before pecking his way up to your cheek.

You twisted around in his arms and pressed your lips to his softly. Even after years together it felt surreal kissing Spencer. He was still just as gentle as he had been when you first started dating, taking his time with you as he held you close. When he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, begging you for the access he desired the most, your heart fluttered deep in your chest.

Your hands pushed through his hair until they settled at the nape of his neck where you held him close as you kissed him back, granting him the access he craved. He tasted like fruit juice–sweet and sticky, and oh so intoxicating. His chest heaved against yours when he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours.

‘Tonight was fun,’ he whispered against the silence of the room. ‘Thank you for not letting me get out of it.’

You laughed softly and cupped his cheeks delicately. ‘You’re welcome, handsome. It was really nice getting to share that with you. And with everyone else.’

‘It was,’ Spencer whispered, capturing your lips in a small peck. ‘Did Penelope send you those photos yet?’

Reaching over Spencer you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and settled back into his arms, shifting until you could use both hands. As promised, Penelope had sent you the photos she had taken that night. There was no denying that they were some of your favourite photos ever.

They all so perfectly highlighted the fun that you’d all had together–Derek and Emily dancing around Dave in the kitchen as he tried to pour everyone a drink; Penelope and JJ dancing in the living room with Hotch in the background laughing at their dance moves; and one of you and Spencer curled up on the sofa, one of Spencer’s hands on your thigh as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

Out of them all, your favourite photo by far was one that you were all in. You all huddled in the living room while Penelope set her camera on a timer on the mantel, telling you all to get ready because she wasn’t willing to take more than one photo.

Something got lost in translation though because when she looked at the photo she bowed her head in shame. Emily had turned to flick Derek’s ear, JJ was staring at them telling them to stop acting like children, Hotch and Rossi were staring at the camera with rigid smiles, Spencer’s eyes were closed and you looked cross eyed.

All the while Penelope had the biggest grin on her face. It was the worst photo that could have ever been taken but it was also your favourite because it showed everyone so perfectly.

‘I like that one.’

‘It’s just…us,’ you smiled. ‘It’s-’

‘Family,’ Spencer finished for you. ‘It’s a family.’

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid writing #my writing #criminal minds fanfics #foxy-eva

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roosteraloha · 5 months

Text

for worse

jake seresin x reader

wc - 5.5k

warnings - ANGST !! blood, injuries to reader, mentions cleaning up said injuries, arguments + discussions of chronic pain

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

a/n - this is pure angst. i have no clue where this came from but I was so inspired and this just wrote itself.

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated!!

It’s been a long few weeks for the both of you, not having much time to spend with each other. Having two very busy schedules often meant that one of you missed the other, and heartbreakingly, it was commonly by just a few minutes. Jake’s schedule was vastly more complicated than your own, with the possibility of receiving deployment papers or new missions, occasionally with almost no advance notice. Thankfully, the pair of you hadn’t had to worry about working through the complexities that came with being in a relationship during deployments yet, something that Jake was especially grateful for. He saw himself spending the rest of his life with you, if you let him, but knew a poorly timed deployment had the potential to ruin the longevity of your relationship. That is something that nags at the back of Jake’s mind each and every time he climbs into his plane.

Jake was deeply relieved to be heading home. The entire week had dragged, countless new training exercises and protocols had made for a physically and emotionally draining week. Heading home to spend the weekend with you was exactly what he needed. Still a relatively new relationship, Jake was uncharacteristically nervous, he was eager to take the next step, moving in together, but was keenly aware of just how flighty and generally anxious you were. Moving too fast with you would be heartbreaking, simply because he knew he could lose you, far easier than he gained you.

Pulling into his driveway, the dark house is highly concerning to Jake. Frowning, he checks his watch, and then his phone, acutely aware that he could’ve taken longer on base than he planned, only to find it was 6pm, the agreed upon time. He had text during his lunch break, a quick conversation that informed you that he’d be a bit later than anticipated, and your immediate response reassuring him that you’d be there anyway. What had happened in those six hours that you couldn’t let him know you wouldn’t be here to greet him.

A quick sweep of his house, and no sign of you. No keys, no shoes kicked off by the door, every room empty. Alarm bells start ringing, Jake knows you. You’re not one to not follow through on plans, you’d always text, call or anything you could to get the message through, that’s one of the first things Jake loved about you.

A rather rapid drive over to your apartment is not the calming result Jake was expecting. Actually, it’s far more alarming to have no response at the door, finding it void of you, not even tucked up in bed for an after work nap, like you had been known to do. Jake was half expecting to find you asleep in your apartment, but it being empty, that was far more concerning. It wasn’t like you to just disappear.

On the way back to his house, Jake swung by the café, wondering if you’d picked up an extra shift, and had just forgotten to let him know. His heart clenched when you weren’t there. Your colleagues told him they’d seen you leave at 4pm, your usual finishing time on Fridays, so you could spend extra time with Jake over the weekend. They too were concerned, the usually confident aviator, someone they’d grown to love having around, now having cracks in his carefree persona, his worry for you nearing panic.

Jake’s shoulders felt heavier when he returned home to no signs of you. The worry of not knowing where you were, weighing down on his heart, and his mind.

It was now 7PM.

Jake was still alone in his house, with no communication from you, and all he wanted was to know if you were okay or not.

With still no word from you, Jake decided to head to bed. While he was deeply concerned for you, he also knew he couldn’t stay up all night, he needed to sleep if he was going to look for you.

Trudging up the stairs, Jake’s heart grew heavier and heavier. His concern for you was growing with every hour that passed without any news from you. Exhaling deeply, Jake turned to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look at his bed, the side where you should be sleeping.

Brows furrowed, Jake’s eyes scanned the room again. Something was off, something was different from usual, a fact he knew due to his military level of attention to detail.

The right-hand bedside table. Your side.

A slight glisten caught Jake’s eye.

Cautiously approaching to get a better look, only to trip over something, stumbling and grabbing the bed to stay upright. Muttering grumbles under his breath, Jake looked down to see what he tripped over. A pair of boots. More specifically, your boots. His eyes widened at the realisation, eyes darting to the bedside table. Your keys. He knew they were yours from the cowboy hat keychain, the one he bought you from his last trip to Texas, something to remind you of him always.

Heart pounding in his chest, Jake rushes around the end of the bed, calling out for you, turning on countless lights, searching anywhere for you in the diminishing daylight.

The panic in Jake was rising, you weren’t downstairs, and he only had a few rooms left upstairs to check. A slight thud from his en-suite bathroom had him rushing back to his room, nudging the bathroom door open with caution, unsure of what he would find.

From the warm glow of the bedroom lights, Jake can see the outline of your body, curled up on the cold bathroom tiles, knees pulled tight to your chest, head resting against them. That relief he felt was short-lived.

Something was wrong.

Blinded by the immense relief of finding you, Jake pushes the door open further, a forceful shove which causes the door to slam into the wall, making you flinch at the sudden noise. "How long have you been home?! I’ve been looking around for you like crazy! I went to your place and you weren’t there, I even went to the café looking for you!” Jake’s tone is demanding, laced with anger and frustration that you must have been here all along and just never bothered to let him know.

Jake scoffed at your silence, you didn’t even look up at him, instead having remained staring at the ground like had been doing for who knows how long. There’s a quiet mumble that fills the otherwise silent bathroom, almost going unheard by an exasperated Jake. Spinning on his heels, he crosses the short distance between you both, and crouches down directly in front of you, taking a softer approach this time.

“Hey, darlin’. Look at me. Say that again.”

You swallow thickly, looking up, but not at Jake, instead straight past him, fixating on a tile in the shower wall.

“I uh- I can’t- We need to break up Jake.”

Blindsided by this, Jake mentally runs through the past few months, ensuring he didn’t miss any important dates, but your birthday and anniversary were still months away. Things were going well in your relationship, Jake was ready to ask you to move in next month, he’d even cleared a section of his wardrobe for you.

He’d clearly misread the situation.

Now deeply hurting, Jake’s heart dropped, he never wanted to hear those words from your mouth. Not ever. “So you just made that decision for me? You’re not even going to dignify me with that information while looking at me?” The hurt is clear in his voice, his southern drawl seeping through with the intensity of emotion.

You simply shrug, knowing if you look at him, you’d break down. Jake is- was the best relationship you ever had, and that’s why it needs to end now.

Clearing his throat that was thick with emotion, Jake tried to hide just how blindsided you’d made him, choosing to fight for you “Whether you like it or not, I'm not giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you.” Sighing deeply, eyes darting across your face, seeking to catch your eye line, searching for any hint of your emotion. “You gonna tell me where this is coming from? I can’t fix this if you don’t talk to me darlin’.”

Another half-hearted shrug.

Jake nudges you gently, getting rapidly more frustrated when you don’t respond to him at all, but still mindful of your body, and any sensitive areas he was aware of, that was always his priority. You, making sure you were safe and well.

One rather loud clear of his throat has your eyes on him, still refusing to meet his eyes, but this was progress and Jake could work with this. “Darlin’… I can’t fix this, I can’t fix us, if you don’t start talking to me.” At your continued silence, Jake raises an eyebrow expectantly, aware of how emotionally fragile you could be right now, and not wanting to push you much more if he could help it. “Cry, yell, whatever - I'm not gonna leave your side. Especially not until you talk to me.”

Uncharacteristically, you lash out, emotions bubbling over, this conversation not going the way you’d planned it in your head. You should’ve known better. Jake was always one to fight for what he loved. One to fight for you. “Why do you always think there is something to fix?! Am I that big of a burden to you? Hell, what if this is something you cant fix, huh? What then?”

Eyes widened in pure shock at your outburst, Jake shifts to sit in front of you, back pressed against the shower door mirroring you, his feet either side of yours. “You wanna try that again darlin’? Don’t think I didn’t catch that but about calling yourself a burden.” Jake shakes his head in disbelief, it seemed that no matter how many times he reassured you that you were never a burden to him, it never got through to you, you would always view yourself that way.

Now you just shook your head and shrugged weakly, the fight going out of you. Another alarming thing to Jake. “I'm here and I'm not leaving or letting you change the subject. Now talk to me.”

Your eyes dart away from Jake’s face, back to the same tile on the shower wall. Another shrug, to which Jake nudges your knee with his own, clearing his throat again, this time to try and coax you to start talking to him, to go back to being open with him, instead of closing yourself off to him and your relationship.

“You don't deserve someone like me. You deserve someone better.” You breathe out shakily, tears brimming in your eyes, as you finally make direct eye contact with Jake. “Someone like you, shouldn’t be stuck and burdened with someone like me. You deserve so much better than me Jake. I’m sorry I can’t be that for you, but I can’t keep doing this. We need to break up. It’s what’s best for you.”

Now you’d given Jake an idea of where your head was at, what your thought process was, and how he could try and fix this. Even if it meant he’d lose your relationship, the one thing Jake would not lose was you. He just couldn’t.

Attempting a different approach, Jake exhaled slowly, resting a hand on your knee, taking note of you still in your work uniform. You had to have been sitting here alone, in the dark, for hours. "Hey darlin’, look at me properly. I’m here, I'm listening. You can tell me anything. You know that.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, watching you carefully, slowly coaxing you to answer him in any way he knew, “I uh-…” Stopping and trailing off several times in quick succession is only adding to Jake’s concern for your wellbeing, but giving him a better idea of how to get through to you.

Squeezing your knee gently, Jake gained your eyes dart back on his, wide and fearful, a change from the closed off and disassociated look you’d had before. “You don't have to pretend to be fine with me.”

“I feel like the pain is all I am anymore.”

That was not what Jake was expecting at all. Sighing heavily at the idea that you felt like your pain has taken over your entire life, Jake squeezed your knee again, trying to give you as much comfort as you’d let him. With no verbal response from Jake, you carry on, “I know it's selfish, but sometimes I wish someone would just take care of me. So I can just shut off, and not have to deal with everything else for once, y’know?” Sniffling, the first tears spill down your cheeks, “No one ever helped me when I needed it. so, I just try to do my best to keep all that to myself. I don’t want to be a burden Jake. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t… I can't continue this relationship based on half-truths and hiding my feelings. You deserve better than that Jake, and it breaks my heart that I can’t be that person for you.”

Jake’s eyes burn with emotion at your words, you were constantly putting others before your own well-being, even if it meant leaving your relationship. Leaving him. And it breaks his heart that someone has made you feel like your pain is too big a burden to share, even with those you love. “I know you feel like you're alone and I'm not going to invalidate that. But I can tell you that I'm here. and I know there are other people who want to help if you'll let them.”

Sniffling and nodding reluctantly, you blink back more tears, looking properly at Jake for the first time in this conversation, finding his eyes glassy, with nothing but love and care for you in his green eyes. Nodding himself at finally getting through to you, Jake smiles softly, “Darlin’, I can't promise you that you aren't going to have any more hardship or pain. But what I can promise you, is that I'm always going to be right here to get you through it. Always.”

Bottom lip trembling, you shakily reach a hand out to Jake, seeking his comfort, resigning from your fight to break up, craving him to hold you. He always does know the right thing to say. Assessing your body language, Jake takes your outstretched hand, moving to sit next to you, a strong arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his body, “It’s okay darlin’. Just let it all out.”

A sob gets stuck in your throat, choking on it as you try and fail to take a deep breath. Jake’s thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles across the bare skin of your arm is all it takes for the sobs to start. Finally releasing all of your pent up emotions, but majoritively of relief. Relief that Jake would never give up on you or your relationship without a fight, and luckily for you, he always knew the right thing to say, the right way to say it, and always, always had plenty of fight in him when it came down to you.

As your heavy sobs continue, your breathing becomes more erratic, something which Jake seems to instinctively pick up on, soft muttering of reassurances, and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, stroking your hair softly, “It's okay, deep breaths. That's it, in and out.” Helping to get your breathing back under control, and your sobs to ease into an occasional sniffle, Jake continues to pepper soft kisses across your cheeks and forehead, “There you go, that’s better darlin’. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Your fist is clenched tightly into Jake’s shirt, tears silently streaming down your cheeks, a soft whine leaving your lips when Jake tries to coax you away from his neck, to get a proper look at you. He smiles softly, brushing the last tears from your cheeks gently with his thumbs, “I know darlin’, but you gotta let me up. You need something to eat and then some sleep, okay?”

Another soft whine pulls a chuckle from Jake, who gently moves you off his lap, allowing him to stand. Moving to turn on the bathroom light, a glinting fragment catches his eye. Scanning the rest of the bathroom, there’s several more fragments glistening by you on the tiled floor, and a few scattered across the counter.

Jake quickly flips the light switch, illuminating the bathroom in a soft glow. The bathroom counter is bare, various objects scattered across the far side of the bathroom. The glistening Jake saw was in fact various sized fragments of the countertop mirror.

Upon closer inspection, several fragments were covered in small amounts of blood. Panic stricken that you could be hurt, Jake is immediately back by your side, eyes darting over you, scanning your body for any signs of injuries. Clearing your throat softly, you try to surreptitiously slip your left hand behind your back, not wanting Jake to be alarmed if he noticed you were injured.

Ever the eagle-eyed observer, Jake’s concerned gaze is instantly back on you, stepping closer to you slowly, cautious as to not spook you. Kneeling down in front of you, Jake reaches out for your hand, brows furrowed and eyes full of concern. While an emotional person, you weren’t one to lash out and act recklessly, which is why Jake’s concern and worry for your wellbeing is evergrowing today.

Having slightly zoned out again, you flinch suddenly as Jake’s hand comes into your eye line, head hitting the bathroom under-sink cabinet with a dull thud, one that has Jake visibly wincing. Once again reaching out for you, his heart drops when you scramble away from him, hands getting caught on the loose mirror fragments behind you.

Your eyes are wide and full of distress, a look Jake hates to see in you. Your bottom lip is wobbling again as you look from your hands to Jake and back again several times, as if you didn’t know what to do, and Jake would. Sighing softly, Jake crouches before you, speaking quietly and calmly, “I can't clean you up if you keep flinching away from me so that I can't touch you. Will you give me your hand?” One hand slowly outstretched, palm side up as a gentle reminder he’d always be there for you, “C’mon darlin’. Please?”

A shaky and rather hesitant nod from you has Jake shifting ever so slightly closer to you, trying to get a better look at your hands. This time you don’t flinch, instead looking up at Jake with sorrowful eyes, the intensity of pain that you’re feeling almost becoming too much to hide like you normally would.

Grabbing you firmly by the elbows, Jake gently encourages you to stand, keeping you close to his body as you away on your unsteady feet. Having cleared the counter of any remaining shards, Jake’s hands mode to your waist, lifting you to sit on the countertop, a better hand for him to work on cleaning up your wounds.

“Be honest, how bad is this pain?”

A shrug, “Like a four out of ten? I’ve had worse pain.”

“When you say your pain's 'a four out of ten’, that's a normal person's ‘eight out of ten'.” Jake frowns, slightly frustrated that you are still downplaying your pain levels. “If it hurts, it hurts darlin’. Simple as that.”

A shy nod from you is rewarded with a soft kiss on your forehead, “I can sort out my hand, it’s my own fault. You don’t need to do it for me.” Jake routes through his medicine cabinet for some antiseptics and bandages to properly clean and dress your wounds. "This isn't up for discussion. I know you're used to looking out for yourself, but I need you to understand that you don't have to live like that anymore. I'm here. Just let me take care of you.” Another shy nod from you and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, happy to have won this fight.

Gentle shushing from Jake is an attempt to soothe any incoming whimpers from the sting of the antiseptic, only to be cut off by a wince upon finding a sliver of glass embedded in your left hand. Blankly, you just look up at Jake and shake your head, as if to say, ‘please don’t do what I think you’re going to do’, but with the resignation that you knew Jake always put your wellbeing first, and he’d do exactly that.

Jake has to grit his teeth as he removes the sliver, pressing kissing of praise when you only whine once, an improvement on the last time Jake had to patch you up. Eying the antiseptic bottle warily, you try to slip off the counter, a strong desire to avoid anymore pain, but a firm hand on your waist tells you Jake isn’t having any of it.

A few swipes into Jake clearing your wound has you hissing in pain, kicking your feet out, trying to push him away, the burning sting of pain almost becoming all-consuming. "I know it hurts, I know. We're almost done darlin’, you’re doing so well.” Next is a dressing and a loose bandage, Jake all too aware of how much you fiddle with tight bandages, there being no point applying on properly when you’re going to sleep soon.

Your eyes light up in relief when Jake tidied up the first aid supplies, “All done?” A terse nod from Jake has you smiling softly, tugging on the bottom of Jake’s shirt, pulling him back towards you, arms circling his waist as you hug him tightly, “Thank you.” A small smile flickers on Jake’s lips, kissing the crown of your head several times, returning your loving embrace, “Always.”

Having scooped you up carefully off his bathroom counter, Jake carries you back downstairs, sitting on an empty section of kitchen worktop. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Now, you just sit there and I'm gonna make you something to eat. We're gonna talk this out more tomorrow. We both need some food and sleep first.” His jaw is clenched tightly, expecting you to argue back and fight him on this, but is pleasantly surprised and relieved when you pull him closer, nuzzling your head into his chest as you nod.

“But first, one important thing, that I’m not arguing with you over. We’re not breaking up. I won’t let that happen.”

Opening your mouth to speak your mind, you pause, Jake raising a challenging eyebrow, almost daring you to fight him on this again. Deciding that Jake was perhaps right, as much as you’d rather not admit it to his face, he usually was right when it came to you and your relationship. Opting to shut your mouth and let Jake take care of you, you nod curtly, watching him step away and busy himself around the kitchen.

It’s fascinating to watch the man you love, so dedicated to taking care of you, work in the kitchen, soon noticing the ingredients he’s picking out, registering that Jake is making your favourite comfort food. Tears burn the back of your eyes, you’ve never had someone so content and determined to take extra time from their day to make you feel better.

Jake immediately is back at your side, hand gently cupping your cheeks, when he notices your expression, searching your eyes for any dog of what had caused your sudden emotion, “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong darlin’?” Eyes darting down you hand, his fingers gently running over the fresh bandage on your hand, looking for any sign of rebleeding, “Is it your hand? Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need your painkillers? I can get them for you?” Jake pulls away from you, moving to get any painkillers you might need, ever the attentive boyfriend you’d grown to love with your whole heart.

You smile sweetly up at Jake, reaching out for him with glassy eyes, pulling him back to stand between your legs, hand framing his face, stroking gently against the day old stubble. “Jake. Just stop for a second. I’m okay, I promise you. I’m just thinking about how grateful I am to have you to take care of me.” Relieved, Jake kisses you gently, “Even when you fight me when I try and take care of you?” He’s teasing now, you can tell, shaking your head and smiling, you pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, kissing him lovingly, “Of course. I will always be grateful for you Jake, even when I don’t always want your help.”

Kissing you gently again, Jake steps away, lifting you off the counter and leading you into the dining room, setting a portion of food in front of you first, then moving to the adjacent chair and setting down his own. Watching you take the first few bites, Jake only starts eating when he’s entirely sure that your food is okay for your taste.

Finishing your plate, you're surprised at how hungry you actually were. Smiling softly, Jake slides his half empty plate in front of you, content to sacrifice his meal to ensure you don't go hungry. You beam over at him, offering him the occasional forkful.

You’d always take care of each other.

Back in his bedroom, Jake pulls an old t-shirt from his closet, one that he knew you had a not-so-secret favouritism for. Setting the shirt down on the edge of the bed, Jake tenderly starts to help you out of your work uniform. Cautious of how tired you are now seeming, he takes great care to do most of the complicated things for you.

Pulling his shirt over your head, Jake smooths your hair out, combing it out of your tight work hairstyle with gentle fingers, helping to pull your arms through the sleeves, smiling to himself when you can feel the tension of the day leaving your body.

A tired whine leaves your lips when Jake tries to coax back to stand, trying to lead you into the bathroom to fully get ready for bed. Your protests are cut off by a yawn, Jake chuckles, “C’mon darlin’, I know you’re tired, but you’ve got to. You’ll feel better.” A disgruntled grunt from you has Jake laughing, successfully managing to coax you into his bathroom.

Lifting you back onto the counter, Jake pulls out your toothbrush, then his own. He watches you carefully, wiping your mouth with a fresh washcloth when you're finished. Reaching for the hairbrush he bought for you at his place, Jake parts your hair, brushing each section carefully, not wanting to tug on any knots. You giggle at Jake’s attempts to try and tie your hair back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he surrenders the brush to you and letting you pull your hair out of your face properly.

Jake sets a glass of iced water on your bedside table, having carried you the short distance from his bathroom to the bed, tucking the covers over you carefully. He even brought an extra blanket from downstairs to ensure you’d be warm enough, or to at least comfort you a bit more, aware enough of your sleeping habits, to not tuck you in too tightly, and wait until he was next to you to try and help you sleep soundly.

Propping you up against his chest, Jake hands you an anti-nausea tablet, one you occasionally took on your bad days, one that Jake had noticed you’d need through your body language. Staring at it in your hand for a few seconds, you work up the mental courage to swallow, gulping some of the water down to discourage the bitter taste from lingering. He hands you a small blister packet of them, all too aware that you could wake up and need more, but would be too anxious to wake Jake up. It was little things, the basic gestures and actions that made you fall more in love with Jake each and every day that you spend in a relationship together.

Resting your head gently on Jake’s chest, with one arm carefully resting over his torso, you inhale deeply, cut off by a big yawn. Jake secured his arm around your body, pulling the blanket around your exposed arms, his hand coming to rest at the base of your neck, fingers occasionally tracing soft circles onto your scalp, easing the tension there.

The house is quiet, which is not unusual for being so close to a base at this time of night, every for the quiet, yet reassuring mumblings from Jake, reminding you that he’s always going to be there for you, there to take care of you, and most importantly, how much he loves you.

“Next time it gets this bad, you call me okay?” He looks down at you, there’s nothing but love and concern for you in his eyes, and you nod shyly, slightly embarrassed of how your choice to hide away from Jake had in fact caused him more worry, which was what you had been trying to avoid all along.

“You can't keep hiding this stuff.” He lifts your chin up gently with his other hand, trying to get you to look at him again, “I need to be able to trust you to tell me when you're hurting. Whether that’s physically or mentally, okay?”

Gaze dropping down from his green eyes, Jake is quick to whisper more reassurances to you, pushing stray hairs behind your ear, “You are so much stronger and braver than you think you are.” There’s more on the tip of his tongue if you even look like you’re going to dispute his words, yet to his surprise, you nod shyly, eyes flickering back to his loving gaze, “I think I’m starting to get that.” It was a rather shy and quiet admission, yet Jake’s face lit up with pride at your words, and his smile only grew and you continued, “I know that I used to disagree with you rather strongly, but thank you for helping me see clearly. I’m a better person with you in my life Jake. You make me better.”

Jake hums in agreement, it wasn’t exactly hard to see how much better you two were together, how much you bettered the other. This was a first was both you and Jake, and a joy that you both got to discover this kind of loving relationship with each other.

“We’ll talk more about this tomorrow when we’re both properly rested, but I hope you realise that I’ll always fight for this - for us.” Your eyes are fixated on his and you listen intently to what he has to say, majorly aware that the way you went about bringing this topic up to Jake, was the complete wrong thing. Jake wouldn’t give you up without a fight.

Exhaling deeply, Jake offers a different perspective, “Look at it this way - would you love me still if I was the one in so much pain? Would you stay with me for the rest of our lives, like I will for you?”

Your response is instant, “Of course. You know I would.” Jake’s mouth twitches into a soft smile, easing an eyebrow and waiting for you to realise. Your eyes widen as it clicks, looking down at your lap shyly, “Oh… Thanks Jake.” Nodding, he kisses the top of your head, pulling you tightly back to his side.

You can’t help the soft laughter that bubbles up as Jake peppers your face with kisses, there’s not an inch of your face that doesn’t get covered in multiple kisses. Jake can’t fight his own laughter at your infectious one, continuing to kiss you all over, moving to pepper kisses on your hair and neck.

Jake only let up on his over the top display of his affection for you, when it’s clear that you’re struggling to catch your breath because you’re laughing so much at his antics. Grinning, he pulls you close to him, a projective arm around your shoulders while you rest half on his chest, covering you both with the blanket, pressing a final sweet kiss to your forehead, “I love you so much darlin’.”

Smiling tiredly up at him, “I love you too Jake. More than you know.”

While the pair of you had a serious conversation ahead of you, Jake and yourself knew that as long as you had each other, you’d make it through, no matter what life threw at you.

You’d get the chance to spend the rest of your lives with each other.

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#allina writes #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick fic #tgm fanfiction #hangman fic

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hyperfixat · 1 year

Text

Yandere Lucifer (the brothers are also here and in love but we aren’t terribly focused on them.) ABSOLUTELY NOT BETA READ ‼️

more under cut :p .. ~2.2k words

pt2

Lucifer who lets you in his office, on the clause that you don’t cause trouble or make too much noise. He lets you sit on the carpet, the hardwood floors, the chairs near the fireplace, and even the spot across from him. Such a powerful demon, with a weak spot for you.

So much goes into keeping you alive, even in the comfort of his office, he has to make sure he’s using enough magical energy to dampen and absorb curses from any vinyls he has spinning, so as to not melt your tiny human brain. He has to make sure you have water, keep the room at an adequate temperature, make sure he provides you with human safe snacks, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

Your presence calms the ache in his soul, his head, and his heart.

He’s so far gone into the pits of love, that he’d kill, torture, and slay for you. Even on a whim. Sure he had a pact with you, but you wouldn’t need to use it, he’d follow you wherever. A loyal dog is the Morningstar.

And you, you don’t even seem to realize the effect you have on him, his brothers, those worthy to be around you. It’s maddening, your naïvety. So many demons, hungry for your flesh and soul, but you just.

Everything about you drives him further into love, borderline obsession. You’re perfect. He barely has to do a thing and you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky. (He did create a few of them, but still). Don’t you understand he’d give you the world? Anything for you…

His fountain pen scratches away at the endless pile of documents on his desk. It never ends. Diavolo wants this, RAD needs that, there's another suit being filed against Mammon… it won’t end. It’s well into the evening, perhaps eleven pm, and you should be asleep by now, but he longs for you to pay him a visit.

He could take a break, a tiny one, head down to your room, where you would surely be, tucked into your bed with one (or more) of his brothers snoring on top of you.

A sigh rips through him.

No, he should just get this work done, then he can rest (hopefully) and see you in a few hours at breakfast.

Mammon, a pest, a loveable pest, but still a pest, had hidden away two weeks worth of bills, ie a lot. Lucifer will not be getting sleep tonight.

“Ah, forgive me,” Lucifer says as he yawns. “I’m afraid I had a rather long night.”

Lucifer, third most powerful denizen of the Devildom, holds a lot of power. At times it has frightened you, how close his slips in emotional control have led you far too near your grave. But more often than not it lulls you into safety.

Your first year in the Devildom, your relationship with Lucifer was quite rocky, seeing as your insubordination was not welcomed, and you pried apart doors that should not be opened, but he managed to fall for you anyway. All your silly, human flaws and quirks melt into oblivion in Pride’s gaze.

It slipped beyond his notice as to when his attachment to you went too far. Lucifer won’t complain, can’t bring himself to even care that he’s so deeply infatuated with you. You do so much for him, his family.

The night you formed your pact and the time spent after, holding you close, keeping your small human body up against his own. It burned a permanent spot in his memory, a figure as large and grand as the Taj Mahal.

Lucifer is far from dumb, his brothers fell for you far before he did, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satan, he can’t pin down where Belphegor grew to love you, but it’s clear he does.

“Is there anything I can help with?” And there it is. You’re so heart achingly kind, to him, to demons. A smile graces his face before falling.

“No, thank you, little one. I appreciate the offer. I should finish up in an hour or so.”

You hum thoughtfully and press a kiss into his hair. “Goodnight, Lucy. Sleep well.”

And how can he not, with you snuggled into his bed, safe. It will always give him an easy rest when you’re with him, because no harm can fall upon you as long as Lucifer is there.

And so, as another year comes to a close and your term at RAD comes to an end, he realizes that he wouldn’t live if he let you go. He needs you to breathe, to function.

It’s silly, more than a little silly, but the ache in his chest that caves deeper and deeper every mommy you’re away will collapse if he can’t hold you, can’t kiss you goodnight, can’t taste the horribly bitter coffee you brew. The Avatar of Pride needs you to feel whole.

The Demon Brothers (New) (7)

Lucifer: Everyone, come to my office after today’s classes end, important discussion.

Mammon: Everyone?!

Levi: Are we in trouble?

Levi: 😨

Asmo: Group Orgy?!!? ☺️

Lucifer: No. It concerns MC, by the way. So tardiness is not acceptable.

Belphie: Are they okay?

Levi: asmo stfu

Beel: Did something happen?

Mammon: 😮

Lucifer: No.

— end discussion.

“We all care deeply for MC. And with your help I have a plan to let them stay with us forever.”

Lucifer does what he does best, justifies his actions. Clearly Mammon keeps his spending under control much better with you around, and Asmodeus won’t bring unsolicited visitors into the House of Lamentation anymore. Satan’s never been harder to deal with than when you’re away, so really, he needs to keep you around. They need to keep you around.

Lucifer doesn’t keep many secrets from Lord Diavolo. This situation is complicated. Diavolo won’t want the Celestial Realm to see you as a hostage, that’d be an act of war, no doubt. But. Lucifer is confident in his brothers and his ability to convince you to stay.

Keeping you under the radar, away from the Prince, will be hard. Harder than locking Belphie away, because his brother knew he was a prisoner. He doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.

It isn’t the first time Lucifer discovered a brother with blood stained clothes and a feral look in their eyes. The frequency of these discoveries have increased exponentially. Mammon and Satan were the obvious offenders, but each and everyone of them have sulked home after a kill since MC has arrived.

It’s an odd sense of vigilantism. In a way. Anyone who dares look at you wrong could face the force of an Avatar.

If they were anyone but the Avatars that they are, surely they’d be prison bound, but being powerful and near worshiped has its perks.

The picture in front of him paints him thick with panic, and anxiety. Mammon is covered in blood. The fear isn’t for his brother, it’s for you. You’ve seen them with evidence of their true nature, humans don’t like that.

Mammon’s ruined everything, but a bitter strike of envy runs through Lucifer when he realizes what you’re doing. Cleaning him up, placing a cutesy human bandage on the single scratch Mammon obtained in his fit.

Lucifer bristles quietly.

“What is this?” His voice makes both of you jump, and you gasp quietly.

“Uh, I, uhm, I fell.” Mammon makes a poor excuse as he takes you into his wingspan protectively. You stumble into his younger brother’s chest and he scoffs.

“Sure.” Lucifer bites sarcastically. “MC, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” He knows he has you cornered and the smug look on his face proves it. When you hesitate and look to Mammon, he quirks an eyebrow.

“He, uh,” you look back at Mammon. “Hhgh. I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Mammon.” Lucifer harshly directs his emotions.

“Agh, they’ve been cleaning me up when I go out, I didn’t mean for them to know, big bro! They just kinda saw me all bloody and started doing it, this.”

“He told me you’d be upset if you knew I saw him like this, but I don’t mind! I like taking care of your brothers.”

Lucifer watches you fiddle with the bandage wrapper in your hands and then at Mammon, holding you at the waist, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Do you even know what he was doing? What any of us do when we go out to return bloodied?” Lucifer raises himself high, a sharp glare in your direction. Even when you flinch slightly he doesn’t back down despite the ache of hurt he feels for your little human heart.

“Uh, I figured it wasn’t my place to ask.”

It takes Lucifer a moment to nod and dismiss himself with a simple, “very well.”

Lucifer

Lucifer: I am not upset with you, MC. I am upset that my brother has been taking advantage of your kindness.

Lucifer: You do know they’ve been killing humans and demons alike? All of them.

Lucifer: Don’t fret, you’ll always be safe with me.

MC: demons’ll be demons i suppose

MC: as long as i’m not the one dying 🤞

Lucifer: 🤨

First it was Mammon, then it was Belphie, then Asmo; Satan, Beelzebub, and Leviathan. He didn’t need you to take care of him, of course not. Lucifer aches for his touch, a traitor to his pride, he wants you to pepper him with kisses and your cute band aids.

It’s rare Lucifer actually makes a kill, mostly because no one dares cross him or speak ill of his family while his ears may hear. A foolish middle class demon let slip a confession of his attraction to you while Lucifer passed.

Logically he knows that is an unreasonable reason to murder, but the part of his mind and soul filled with love infatuation desire wont listen to reason. Ice spikes his heart. No demon, angel, nor human should harbor such feelings for you. They will never live up to what he holds for you, what he could give to you.

And so, venom in his body, Lucifer strikes from shadow, a clean kill, not much to it. Then the memories of you patching his brothers flashes through his mind, and ugh, he knows he could get your undivided attention if he messes himself up just a little.

When you find him, bloodied, uniform absolutely darkened with drying blood, at your bedroom door, your jaw drops.

Finally, he gets the pleasure, the reward of your hands cleaning his face, his uniform, tending to him. It was worth the wait, the effort, the time. Perhaps he should find himself bloodied more often if it means having you like this.

While your soft human hands clean his face and freshly unbuttoned shirt he decides to tell you what he’s done. You deserve to know, and a part of him hopes you’ll be thankful. Although there is always the chance reality will sink into your mortal mind and you’ll realize what a monster the Morningstar truly is.

He hopes the latter doesn’t happen, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

As you place the final tiny kitten bandage on his face, and before you think fully about it, you press a gentle peck against his lips.

“Hm? Do you like seeing me kill for you?” He smiles against your lips and his hot breath leaks into your own. “You like having the Avatar of Pride avenge you?”

An embarrassing noise escapes you as Lucifer pulls away from your lips to kiss your hairline.

“There isn’t a thing in all the realms I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

You exhale against his chest, before breathing him in.

“Thank you, Lucifer.”

A low purring, perhaps growling, revs itself in his throat. Lucifer loves his little human, but he doesn’t like sharing them. If he proves himself better than his brothers, they’ll be all his. But their heart is so big, perhaps he’ll have to settle for being the favorite. The best.

He noses along the hollow of your neck, breathing you in, “I love you.” Lucifer feels the way your heart flutters beneath your skin and he’s near delirious with the scent of you filling his lungs.

You, you, you; your hands on his chest, his face, so gentle with him as if he is the fragile one. He’s possessed with the desire to claim you, to bite and mark you for his brothers to see that he is the right one for you, he is your favorite, your proper suitor.

Teeth strong enough to snap steel, ghost around your jugular and draw in a sharp gasp from you. But he refrains from blemishing your precious human skin. When his head is clearer (if it ever will be clearer around you), he’ll mark you so, so carefully.

Your hands tangling into the roots of his hair brings him back into the moment, and he reaches his head back to capture your lips. Yes, he’ll just have to do this again.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere obey me #yandere lucifer #obey me lucifer x you #rahh

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nyctophiliq · 1 month

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CAN YOU PLS WRITE SOME REYNA SMUT 🥲🥲🥲

✮ ┆HELP MY HEAD CLEAR. zyanya ‘reyna’ mondragón

no plot, just smut.

CONTENT WARNING. 18+ only, minors dni. NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, scissoring, kissing, praising, mommy kink, top! reyna, pet names, dub-con elements, | ~0.9k words

A/N. i found this scrapped reyna fic on my hard drive finally, hopefully, you like it anon despite it being rather short, and thank you for reading everyone !!!

to say that reyna was tense lately was an understatement and you were more than glad that the rest of the agents thought when she finally calmed down it was thanks to the countless training bots beheaded. you were more than proud of how well you could assist your girlfriend to cool her head, but you were nowhere proud enough to brag about how you really did it. even that was a lie because in her least angelic moments, reyna was still very pervasive, and with the slightest effort she could charm you into her room to have a good time.

there was no time for you to register anything happening after the sliding door closed, reyna’s hands all over your body, stripping you of your clothes before forcing you under her on the bed. “my precious baby, won’t you help mami, hm?” she coos as she straddles you, her hand catching one of yours that was trying to cover up your bare body, placing them on the buckle of her pants while her free hand was groping your chest, digging her nails into the soft mound of your breast.

your body was sprawled across the bed like a work of art, your tits bouncing softly as reyna rolled her hips against yours. light gasps came from your lips as your clit met hers, grinding against one another slowly. zyanya’s mouth waters at the sight of you under her and her animalistic fantasies of absolutely devouring you right there and then were never harder to maintain than now.

“feels good baby, yeah? helping mami out,” she asks, reaching a hand down to caress your face. it was hot, almost fooling her that you were riding a high fever and your cheeks were red like the blood that flows through your body, your skin burning where she touched you. you nodded furiously, the blush darkening and spreading down your neck as she pressed herself down on top of you, taking control of the position, her arms bracketing your head and holding it down so you couldn’t move away.

you bit your lower lip to suppress a moan which did not please the woman above you at all. reyna would hate to admit otherwise, tell you out loud how much she is enjoying herself in this position and the delicious stimulation on her clit. she didn’t think this kind of position could be as satisfying as any of her toys or your tongue and she is already planning the next time the two of you will do this.

“f-faster…” you mumble, your thighs trembling already. your heart was racing and you swore it would jump out of your chest any second with the way she moved her hips against yours.

“you are so good mi corazón, such a pretty messy pussy you have for mami,” she exclaims with a high-pitched moan following her statement. she pulls your thigh closer to her and quickens her pace as more praises fall from her mouth.

your eyes close as you soak up her words, whimpering softly after each and every adoring word that spilled from her mouth. your body trembles and your walls clench around nothing but air as your high nears and you find it embarrassing. she mewls all about how she’s gonna devour you after this, how she is gonna eat you up and make sure you get what’s coming to you.

“m’cumming- cumming!” you squeak, your thighs trying to close as your hips spasm against hers. all your shame quickly dissolves, your mind only able to concentrate on the spine-arching pleasure your body is being wrecked by. you saw stars, shining brightly and bliding you as your orgasm ate you whole.

“cum for me- cum with me cariño.” reyna gave you a few rushed nods, not being able to form any more words as she too was nearing the edge. she can feel the small, unfortunate space between the two of you get even more slippery than before, the wet sounds of your pussy lips getting louder.

just as you were coming, your pupils were blown like you were high on drugs, and your brain was gushing out of your ears. zyanya followed you soon, her head falling forward and one of her hands slipping between the two of you. the pressure in her stomach was unbearable and the release her fingers provided was heavenly.

the sound of her moans was music to your ear and if you weren’t so dizzy because of your lingering orgasm. it felt so damn good to be fucked like this, to know that you are making her feel good and she's letting all that steam off that's building up inside of her.

reyna wasn't shy about showing off, kissing, and biting your shoulder and collarbone- touching these marks. it stung, how her fingers ran along and pushed on her purple marks, but the way that touch made her feel, the warm feeling, and how it made your body shiver all made her delightful, strengthening her ownership over you.

zyanya was breathing heavily, her hair tousled. her entire body was sweaty and flushed and she looked absolutely gorgeous. she pulled back slowly, her breathing labored and her eyes remained closed for a couple of seconds before falling over, taking you in her weak arms, pulling your naked bodies close to one another.

#📗 — written by moss !#valorant x reader #valorant x reader smut #valorant x female reader #reyna x reader #reyna x reader smut #valorant reyna x reader #reyna x female reader #reyna x you #valorant reyna x reader smut #valorant smut

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gaybananabread · 8 months

Text

TickleTober Day 3 - Cuddles

I've been slowly revisiting my old fandoms for the event, and the MHA curse may or may not have re-infected my brain. Soooo here's some DabiHawks because I'm basic (TvT). Loving this event so far, it's really challenging my creativity and overall commitment levels! As always, I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Hawks

Lee: Dabi

Summary: Dabi and Hawks wake up after a night together, cozy in their bed. Dabi wants peaceful cuddles, but Hawks won't stop being a shit. Lucky for him, Dabi knows just how to get the pesky bird to settle down.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Dabi just wanted one morning where he could wake up peacefully with his bird boy. Just one nice, calm, soft morning. With Hawks, however, that was never an option. He had barely opened his eyes before he felt something poking his cheek.

“Heeeeey crispy~” Ugh, that nickname… He wished the pro had never thought of it. At least his morning voice was nice. Dabi tried to tune him out, digging his face into his partner’s arm. “Mmmph. Go back ta sleep…”

Peacefulness wasn’t really an option for the winged hero. He was feeling playful, rested and wanted to mess with his man. Besides, twelve o'clock is a perfectly reasonable time to wake someone up. Not his fault that Dabi’s not a morning person. The villain groggily swatted at the other’s hand. “But I’m not tired. You need to get up, it’s almost noon.”

Dabi groaned, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Why did he always have to do that? “No. Sleep.” He rested his head against the other man’s chest, hoping to sway him to the sleepy side. He never got the best rest at night, even with Hawks by his side. Mornings were dreaded by him, he always tried to get a few more hours out of his partner.

Hawks just chuckled and shook his head. He was more than used to Dabi’s groggy morning routine. Still, he was a bit antsy, wanting to start the day. Feeling mischievous, he moved his wings, gently brushing the tips of his feathers on the burned boy’s neck and arms.

That got a reaction, though it wasn’t the one he was looking for. Dabi pushed himself up, gathering Hawks’ wrists in one hand and pushing them above his head. The ravenette was practically laying on top of him, using his strength and weight to keep him pinned. He was awake now. Hawks wasn’t worried yet, his playful smirk on full display. “Wohoah. Thought you were tired, Dabs. Don’t mind this, though~”

Dabi rolled his eyes and huffed. That man… He was gonna get it. “Always gotta go there, huh?” His free hand rested on the blonde man’s side, drumming fingers against his bare skin. “Think I got a way to wear you out, birdy.”

Now Hawks was worried. The smirk wavered, a nervous smile replacing his confident grin. Dabi didn’t make empty threats like that. “Hey! Lehet’s- let’s talk about this!” He tugged at his arms, trying to free himself. Pinned on his back, Hawk’s wings wouldn’t be much help. He could get them to Dabi, but the fiery man would easily push them aside. Besides, he’d rather not draw attention to the sensitive appendages.

“Nothin’ to discuss. You’re being a shit; ’m just returning the favor.” The fingers on his side bent into a claw, slowly scratching the area right under his ribs. Hawks bit his lip, refusing to break so quickly. Dabi wanted a reaction? He was gonna have to work for it.

He wanted to play hardball? Fine. Dabi could play hardball. He kept his clawing light and slow, teasing the other man. The claw climbed upwards, toying with his ribs before moving back down. He was gonna be cruel about it. “Silent treatment, eh? We’ll see how long that lasts..”

Hawks could feel his cheeks heat up as he squirmed. He was only in his boxers, his lover wearing a loose tank-top. He was almost completely exposed to Dabi’s ticklish teasing. His breathing was only getting shakier, the tight bite of his lip wobbling. The winged hero couldn’t hold out forever.

The fiery man saw his reactions, chuckling. “Look’it you, all blushy and squirmy. Could eat you up, nugs. Actually…not a bad idea.” Dabi lowered his head slowly, his clawing fingers running up and down the blonde’s ribcage. Hawks kicked and squirmed, but nothing he did could stop his boyfriend’s lips from touching down on his stomach. The hero finally broke, squealing and bursting into bubbly giggles as he felt Dabi’s teeth on his stomach.

“GYAAAhahaha! Dahabihihihi noho!” Hawks bucked his hips, trying to get the other man away from his ticklish belly. Dabi chuckled against his stomach, sending little vibrations through the sensitive flesh as he nibbled and kissed on it. He was being so mean!

As if all the teasing and provoking wasn’t enough, Dabi decided to speak against his belly too. “Such a ticklish thing, aren’t we? Wouldn’t it suck if I spilled to the League about this? Even with your wings, I doubt you could fend off Twice’s little army. So many wiggling fingers~” He switched from clawing to scribbling, still focusing on the winged hero’s ribs while nibbling on his belly.

Hawks was in stitches, giggling and squeaking like there was no tomorrow. His cheeks were burning, the teases hitting their mark and flustering the man. “Youhuhu s-suHUHUCK! GEHEHET OHOhohoff!” The gentle scraping of his lover’s teeth on his belly, the fluttery feeling of the kisses; it was insane. Correction; it was driving him insane.

In a way, Dabi was still getting his cuddles. He was pretty much laying on Hawk’s lower body, he was kissing and loving on him, and his partner was smiling. True, pitchy laughter was right behind that smile, but he wasn’t picky. Pinning his arms above his head and tickling him was just a part of the fun.

“Bahabe- babe plehEHEHEASE! MOHOHOVE!” Hawks was quickly losing it over the tickles, the nibbles and kisses on his toned stomach more than he was ready for. He was used to Dabi being mean, but he normally wasn’t this cruel. He should’ve just gone for the cuddles…

Dabi’s head finally pulled away, a wide and smug smirk adorning his features. He ran his hand across his boyfriend’s stomach, wiping any loose saliva from his tickly attack off the surface. That man knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying it. “Aww, guess my birdy can’t handle a few kisses. Maybe you should think about that next time you wanna be a shit.” He kept both Hawk’s arms pinned above his head, using his free hand to drill into the blonde’s hips.

Think about that next time? Oh, he’d be thinking about it for the rest of the day, possibly into the next morning. And maybe, just maybe, he’d do the exact same thing tomorrow. But at that moment, all he could do was laugh. “DAHABIHIHIHI! WHYHIHIHI AHARE YOU SOHO MEHEHEAHAN?!”

“It’s my job, Keigo. I’m an evil villain, remember? Gotta keep my bratty bird boy in check.” That made Hawk’s entire face go red, the blush actually spreading to the tips of his ears. They seldom used each other's actual names, as they had gotten used to the aliases before they started dating. Hearing his name come from Dabi’s mouth, on top of the tickling and teasing tone…it’s safe to say he was flustered. Even better, the worst was yet to come.

Dabi’s eyes wandered, landing on his boyfriend’s wings. He had long since figured out how sensitive they were; that was hardly the first time he’d tickled the man. This meant that he knew exactly how ticklish his wings were, and just how to go at them to wreck the hero. His hand slowly moved behind his ribs, getting closer and closer to the base of Hawk’s wings. “Ya know, there’s one spot I’ve been dying to get to. I’d say I’ve been pretty patient, wouldn’t you?”

Oh, that ass. “DAHABIHI- DABI NOHOHO! YOUHUHUHU WOUHULDN’T!” Dabi just laughed, leaning down and whispering right in his ear. “Oh, I would~” He let go of Hawk’s arms, quickly flipping the man over now that his hands are free. Hawks, both dazed from the tickled and flustered out of his mind, couldn’t react fast enough. He was straddled in seconds, both of Dabi’s evil hands scratching along the bases of his wings.

When I say this man cackled, I mean he lost his shit.

“NAHAHA! SHIHIT- DAHAHABIHIHI! IHI- YOUHU- GAHAHA!” He writhed under his boyfriend’s touch, the crazy ticklish spot driving him up the wall. He could barely think, barely speak, barely do anything other than thrash and laugh his ass off. Dabi found it quite amusing. “Damn, birdy. Got some pipes on ya there. Should be calling you songbird.”

Hawks ultimately gave up, resigning to his ticklish fate. He couldn’t get Dabi off his back, couldn’t focus enough to use his quirk, and couldn’t stretch his wings far enough to retaliate. He just pressed his face into a pillow, laughing his heart out as his boyfriend destroyed him with tickles.

Eventually, Dabi got his fill, seeing the puddle of squirmy cackling beneath him. He climbed off of the winged hero, instead laying beside him and pulling him close. Hawks was still giggling like crazy; the intense tickling left him with plenty of phantom sensations. Dabi just rubbed his back, placing little kisses on his forehead as he cuddled up to the blonde. “Easy, babe. I’m done, you’re good.”

It took a solid three minutes, but Hawks finally regained his composure, sighing into Dabi’s chest. The tickling had definitely worn him out; all the antsy energy he felt that morning was spent. In fact, he could use a nap. He draped across his boyfriend’s sides, breathing out a sleepily muttered “jerk” before closing his eyes.

Dabi just chuckled, gently scratching the pro’s head as he drifted off. It was gonna be at least a good hour before he woke back up. Looks like he was getting his cuddles after all…

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inf3ct3dd · 9 months

Text

01. BAD LIAR

warnings: none!!!

authors note: going cray rn guys….sorry if this is a bit long 😓😓

previous chapter. next chapter. masterlist.

the rest of summer break was….depressing.

as they say, lesbian heartbreak hits hard.

ellie must’ve texted you a thousand times, and you couldn’t reply because every time you saw her name on your phone you started bawling.

and your daily stalks of her instagram had you completely salty-faced.

you were so obnoxiously upset, that everything that had anything to do with her made you upset. you worried that if you even saw her face to face, you’d fold on the floor and drown in your own tears.

which was what made being in your room even worse, because it was covered in HER.

open your closet? her old hoodie.

sit at your desk? a framed picture of the two of you.

vanity? polaroids taped to the mirror.

even your BED. which held the stuffed animal she bought you, mr pickles.

mr pickles might as well have been a real pickle from how salty he was from being covered in TEARS during one of your very frequent breakdowns.

you basically lived in your room, your sister having to literally drag you outside to do anything. the only thing that worked was bribing you with food.

“cmon, i made pasta.” was her best excuse to get you out of your self inflicted prison.

ellie showed up at your house a few times, and each time she did, you hid in your room. at one point she actually came upstairs, and you crawled out of your window and hid on your roof until she left.

you did not want to talk to her.

after a while, and constant berating from all your friends and your family, you got over your extremely dramatic episode. well….not really? but at least you weren’t in your room sobbing over a tiktok you saw because the girl “looked like ellie.”

the days leading up to the first day of school basically consisted in you being in a constant state of panic.

what if she talks to me?

what if i have to sit next to her in class?

what if she-

“DUDE. CAN YOU STOP BEING A BATHROOM HOG AND LET ME GET READY?”

you heard your sister yell from outside the door, interrupting your thoughts.

you had been pacing in the bathroom for thirty minutes, losing your fucking mind.

you shouldn’t be this stressed out. it happened almost a month ago. you’ll be fine girl, calm down.

you give yourself a final once-over in the mirror , fixing the two plaits on the sides of your head before adjusting your glasses, and swinging the door open, revealing your pissed off sister.

“fucking finally.”

she muttered under her breath, before dramatically slamming the door behind her.

you gave your dad a hug goodbye before walking over to your car, twirling your keys in your fingers. you had just gotten your license last year, (too scared to get it when you were 16), and you still weren’t very….good at driving.

you opened the car door, making your hand wet from the raindrops , and sat down inside the car.

you watched your sister walk over to the car, with a fucking helmet.

she swung open the door and sat down in the passenger’s seat, setting her bag on the ground.

“…..are you serious?”

you looked over at your sister, a look of disbelief plastered on your face.

“with the way you drive? very much so.”

you roll your eyes at her before pulling out of your driveway, making your way to school.

after you got to school, you really wished you would’ve stayed home.

or transferred schools.

to one in a different country.

because when you walked into your first period, ellie was there.

and your second.

and your third.

and your fourth.

the first half of your day was spent basically hiding from her. sitting as far as possible, making your presence seem non-existent.

it was definitely a chore, but you’d rather do this than actually have to confront her.

even during passing periods, you practically speed-walked to your next period classes, avoiding the brunettes persistent attempts to talk to you.

it was hard to focus on anything in class when you could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of your head.

lunch was….once again, very depressing. your usual lunch table was just full of ellies friends, and of course, ellie herself.

you looked around the cafeteria for a while , scanning the large room for one of your friends. and yet, you turned up empty.

do i just have zero classes with them?

you finally gave up, walking to the courtyard outside.

the courtyard was fairly empty, given that it was still soaking wet .

you walked over to a bench that looked fairly dry, sitting down and slinging your backpack off your shoulders before sitting it down next to you, grabbing the lunch you packed for yourself.

you started to eat , biting into the quesadilla you made yourself , looking around the courtyard and nodding your head to the music blaring in your headphones.

the noise cancellation blocked out the sound of a door swinging open, and footsteps quickly approaching you.

you continued eating your lunch, this being the most calm you’ve been all day, slightly kicking your feet back and forth as they dangled off the bench.

you don’t notice ellie walking over to you until its too late, and shes standing in front of you, repeating your name.

“hello???”

you look up at her, slightly jumping at her presence and pulling your headphones onto your shoulders.

“uhm….hi.”

you utter, meeting her eyes.

“are you just never gonna talk to me again?”

ellie responded, a disappointed look on her face.

you avoided eye contact with her, staring at your hands in your lap.

“i don’t really…..have anything to say to you.”

you mutter, still avoiding her gaze.

“nothing? you don’t have anything to say about what happened?”

“what do you expect me to say?”

“….i don’t know. i just want to talk to you.”

she looked away from you, fiddling with her rings the same way she did the last time you saw her.”

“are you alright? you haven’t really been posting or anything lately.”

she was looking at my account??

“i’m fine. just haven’t been on my phone much.”

you lied, staring at her shoes.

“i can tell….i must’ve texted you 1000 times and you never answered.”

she anxiously rubbed her arm, trying desperately to hold eye contact with you.

“ ‘m sorry.”

“its fine, i kinda deserved it.”

she lets out a dry chuckle, rubbing her arm with her opposite hand.

theres an awkward silence between the two of you, both fidgeting with your hands and looking everywhere but at each other.

“so… are you and dina like, a thing now?”

you boldly questioned, crossing your legs in front of you.

“no- we were just drunk. we’re just friends.”

“real friendly.” you mumbled under your breath.

“are you uh…seeing anyone?”

ellie asks, slightly bouncing on her feet.

ellie only asks because she knows you aren’t. she wants an ego boost. she just wants you to say it.

she doesn’t expect you to say yes.

and neither do you.

“actually? who is it?”

the realization of what you just said hits you like a truck, the false confidence disappearing and replacing it with fear. you think, maybe for a bit too long, about what to say.

and then you finally utter-

“abby.”

ellies look of confusion is replaced with anger at your answer.

abby anderson. the one girl you knew she hated.

constant bickering and dumb fights, arguments that meant absolutely nothing that lasted their entire high school careers, and the constant competition between the two of them brewed your perfect opportunity for jealousy. your thoughts moved as fast as your mouth.

“cmon, you’re joking right?”

ellie asks before scoffing, readjusting her feet and crossing her arms in front of her.

you shake your head before packing up your things, starting to leave.

you don’t notice that you left your class schedule on the bench.

“you’re not fucking with me?”

ellie was practically fuming, the tips of her ears turning red as she dug her fingers into her arms.

you give her a nod before walking away, quickly turning on your heel.

“are you serious?”

“dead.”

your best friend mina was staring back at you, mouth agape in shock as she listened to you recall what happened during lunch.

your heart beat speeds up as you run around the track, even though you were already basically having a heart attack before you started.

having gym outside was already brutal, and the fact that it was extremely foggy and depressing-looking outside made it ten times worse. usually, you would’ve tired out by now, begging the gym teacher to let you inside because you had a “headache”, but for some reason you were feeling extremely bold today.

as you and your friend slow your pace you feel someone running behind you. you take a deep breath, expecting ellie to pop up behind you, but you’re suprised when you hear an unfamiliar voice call out your name.

you turn around to face her, and you look up and see abby.

your heart hammers in your chest while you try to catch your breath, simultaneously trying to calm your nerves.

“um…hey.”

you reply, staring up at her.

your eyes move to her hands, and you notice a piece of paper in one.

“is this yours?”

abby reaches her hand with the paper towards you, realizing its your class schedule.

“oh yeah, thanks.”

abby smiles at you, shoving her hands into her hoodie pocket. you subconsciously mirror her actions, slipping your hands into yours.

“welcome. we have pretty similar schedules actually.”

“oh really? i didn’t notice.”

you smile at her, and she offers the same smile back.

mina makes her hands smooch, making an obnoxious kissy face behind abby.

“yeah, you seemed like you were kinda staying to yourself today.”

you give her a death glare before looking back to abby, slightly shifting on your feet.

“i guess, i’ve just been….avoiding someone.”

you look away for a second, and see ellie angrily storming towards the two of you, all her anger and eye sight directed towards abby.

shit.

abby looks in the same direction as you, watching you get anxious as ellie walks over.

“you okay?”

you redirect your attention to abby, watching her eyebrows quirk at you in concern.

you give her a quick nod, but the look on her face remains unchanged. she doesn’t believe you.

you feel ellie get closer to you. you run through the thousands of scenarios that could go wrong if she gets over to the two of you.

ellie would think you’re a pathetic weirdo, and abby would think you’re an insane person.

however, your body moves faster than your thoughts, and you choose the absolute worse option to get out of this.

you slightly stand on your tiptoes and smash your lips onto abbys, holding her face with your hands.

her eyes widen in shock, blind to you as you shut yours as hard as possible.

surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away.

ellie sees the sight in front of her and scoffs, staring at the two of you in disbelief.

“guess she wasn’t lying.”

taglist:

if ur name is crossed i cant tag u :((

@rimaybank @nickiminaj689 @ leomcshizzle @planetflorxa @teawithnosugar @sawaagyapong @how-to-disappearrr @vsselz @pepperispicy @chrry1ovr @ 4yn1y4h @lottienatfinalgirls @honeycinnamonenthusiast @heartrobynn @ibatman @sugarbag @arizvla

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x black reader #abby x y/n #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #lesbian

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