#I also like deal with the devil/the devil and X stories a lot! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

Text

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart.

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

530 notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

masterlist

all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)

i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x

JJK

SERIES

THROTTLE

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you. current wc: 160,244 warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

BAD DECISIONS - link will take you to the clubdionysus tumblr!

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions. current w/c: 450k notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds 2024 note: wattpad took down bad decisions as part of their 2024 purge </3. it's now hosted on it's very own tumblr (clubdionysus) and over on ao3!

BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX

ONE SHOTS

extended - 5k words or more

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out wordcount: 5.8K notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn’t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

LANDSLIDES

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers) synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. wordcount: 6.8K warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

something borrowed

- mafia au | forbidden love

dance with the devil

- royalty au | former lovers

KNJ

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

back to you

- idol au | exes

KSJ

MYG

SERIES

HUSH

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?) synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops ! current w/c: 17.5k notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

PALLADIUM

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut synopsis: min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent. wordcount: 3.2K notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!

JHS

PJM

KTH

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

sundae (kinda love)

- childhood friends | angst

#bts fanfic #bts masterlist #byholly #jungkook fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook x reader

677 notes · View notes

bonthefuckjourx · 3 months

Text

Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)

SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.

WARNINGS: brief mention of depression/anxiety

WORD COUNT: 3100k+

A/N: Hello everyone! I haven't posted around tumblr all that much, but I hope this gets some traction as there isn't much Lucifer fanfiction to begin with. I love writing fantasy stories intermeshed with romance and Hazbin Hotel was a perfect world for this.

And yes, eventually there will be smut. I suppose you'll have to stick around and find out~

(Also, I hope you all know the Reputation album by Taylor Swift is fueling this ^-^)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One: ...Ready For It?

One day you were in school studying for the next exam and then you were spawned into a hellscape like no other. The literal hell. You never were religious, and it always seemed more like a fear-mongering cult to you. Apparently even though you didn’t do anything evil or inherently bad you still went to hell. Gunshots fired off into the distance making you drop to the ground. They were loud and scared you to no end. Shakily you stood up, started to run. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you didn’t want to die, not again. Eventually you ran out of strength and wandered inside a hotel-like building before collapsing on the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t just stand there Vaggie, come help me! It’s okay we have you now.”

With closed eyes you made out an alarmed high-pitched voice. It sounded like warmth and trust. You didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. Arms lifted you up and after some time you landed in a warm bed. You drifted off into a fitful sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As your eyes fluttered open you were met with one beady red eye.

“Nifty would ya give her some space?”

This so-called nifty jumped off your bed and landed on the floor next to you.

“Hi, I’m Charlie. You collapsed on the floor of my hotel and so we took you up to a room. And yes, you can stay as long as you would like.”

A hand was extended out for you to take and with a shaky arm you took it. The demon was pale with two red dots on her face that looked a bit like blush. She wore a suit like attire and seemed to be the one in charge. As you looked around you noticed a snake-like demon who said his name was Sir Pentious, a cat-like demon whose named Husk, and a spider-like demon whose named Angel Dust. The last demon sent chills down your spine with his unnerving smile, his name was the Radio Demon or Alastor. You hoped you never had to be in a room alone with him.

“Uh thank you all for helping me. It’s my first day in hell and it’s a lot. I didn’t know where to go so I just kept running and running and it was so loud and violent and-“You started to look around frantically hyperventilating a little. This was all too much.

“Hey it’s okay. This is supposed to be a safe place. You don’t have to go out there anymore if you don’t want to.” You looked at Charlie reassurance in her eyes.

“It’s called the Hazbin Hotel! We rehabilitate sinners so that they hopefully one day can go to Heaven. As you know my name is Charlie. I’m also the Princess of Hell and I really want to be able to save my people from this life.”

She looked solemn, but determined and in that moment, you had no doubt of what she would accomplish. You sat up and pulled Charlie in for a hug. Even though she was born in hell, she was much kinder than any soul you met on earth.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

You pulled away from the hug and noticed a tearful look in her eyes even though she was smiling.

“I’ll be honest I’m not quite sure why I’m here. It’s not like I did anything super evil, I just kind of lived an average life.”

“You didn’t kill anyone?” The radio demon mentioned from the corner.

“What! No? What is wrong with you?”

“What about prostitution? Apparently, the big guy hates it when you whore yourself out like that,” Angel Dust mentioned with a shrug.

“I was a poor college student, but I didn’t turn to that. I just had to take out an insane amount of loans.”

“Gambling, or suicide? I lost everything and well there wasn’t much place left in the mortal realm for me. The easy way out is an easy way into hell,” said Husk who stood next to Angel Dust.

“Nope neither. I don’t really think I had a reason other than not believing in God. I mean I can see now that demons are real, but why would I believe in a God that doesn’t care? His rules are horrible, you can’t be gay, or just enjoy yourself with another person. I lived my life by my morals, not someone else’s.”

You crossed your arms hoping the others would get the hint. You just wanted to be alone right now. Your life was cut short, and for what?

“I’m sorry y/n, but we can figure something out. Just give me some time, I promise.”

Charlie held out her pinkie and reluctantly you agreed.

“We’ll give you some time alone then.”

With that Charlie turned to leave and the rest followed her. After the door shut you curled up under the covers and wondered if life would ever be better. This whole heaven and hell thing made your head hurt. You never had much luck in life why would this be any different?

A few weeks passed and although your death was still fresh in your mind you started to feel a little bit better. You and Charlie talked and set out on a plan to help rehabilitate you. She said you really didn’t need much help, but rather she had the hard task of trying to convince Heaven you should be up there with them. You both talked every day, and it helped take some of the edge off your anxiety. That and you always seemed to have company when you wanted it at the hotel. Angel Dust made you laugh and was always up for a drinking game of some sorts. Husk was always there if you needed to talk or rant about your previously human life. Sir Pentious was a bit peculiar, but over time you warmed up to him too. You didn’t talk to Vaggie much as she always seemed a bit distant. Everything she did was for Charlie, and she didn’t exactly make friends with other people and tended to only light up if Charlie was in the room. Thankfully you both silently agreed not to talk much. In the evenings you all would curl up around the fireplace and share stories or play games. Charlie loved to play human games like Never Have I Ever or Twenty Questions. She claimed they helped build trust.

One morning while you and Charlie were having your daily talk, she mentioned that her dad would be over later that day. She was going to show him the hotel so that hopefully he could set her up an audience with Heaven. She could finally mention the souls, like you, here that could be rehabilitated. You were ecstatic that she could finally move forward with her plan but scared to meet someone new. Not only that, but this was Charlie’s dad Lucifer. The Lucifer, like the biblical fallen angel that probably has some awesome, but frightening powers. The anxiety was eating you up and you could tell Charlie wasn’t much better. She mentioned she hadn’t seen him in a few years, and you wondered how hard that must be on her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Everyone gather around! He should be here any minute,” Charlie yelled out to us, clapping to have our attention. I stood next to Angel Dust as we gathered around her near the front entrance. He always made me feel a little safer.

“Charlie, so good to see you!”

The door swung open and in came the most eccentric man I ever saw. He was almost bouncing around the room, hugging Charlie, then seeing Razzle and Dazzle, and finally stopped when he noticed the rest of us. You couldn’t move your gaze as you realized he was staring straight into your eyes. The moment was fleeting as Charlie grabbed his attention.

“Dad, hi. This is my hotel, and these are the inhabitants. Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, and y/n.”

When Charlie mentioned your name Lucifer met your gaze again. It was electrifying and made you blush to no end. He looked away giving Charlie his full attention once again. Suddenly Alastor appeared right next to her.

“And I am the hotelier. Pleased to meet you, the name’s Alastor.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened as Alastor put his arm around Charlie, his smile growing ever bigger. You swore a small growl came out of Lucifer’s mouth.

“Hot,” Angel Dust whispered near your ear, and you did your best not to give out a small laugh.

“Charlie, you need to stay away from this demon.”

“Dad, I trust him. He’s been nothing but helpful. Once you see the hotel, I know you’ll have a change of heart.”

Soon Charlie was leading her father around the hotel with Alastor on her right-hand side. Lucifer was less than happy to see his daughter hanging out around the Radio Demon. He didn’t trust Alastor, which you understood in a way. He was happy to meet Vaggie stating how he also like girls. He was quite awkward, but adorable in a way.

Next thing you know Alastor and Lucifer were arguing again. Music playing randomly and seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yea don’t ask me why, but sometimes they break out into song.” Angel Dust leaned in towards you to comment shrugging his shoulders.

A small laugh escaped as you took your time eyeing Lucifer up. Soon enough he was singing, his voice mesmerizing. His inflections and body language all showed off how prideful and confident he was. You supposed that’s why he’s called the sin of pride. There was something so sweet about how much he wanted to help his daughter, and attractive too. You never were able to have a family on Earth, but you wouldn’t mind having his babies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the little sing off between Alastor and Lucifer, Charlie talked to her dad about the audience with Heaven. He decided to help her, and you could tell their relationship healed a little. You decided to leave them to it and left to go up toward your room. The elevator dinged at your level, and you walked out. The balcony at the end of the hall caught your attention as its glass doors were open. A breeze blew in and you relished the fresh air. As you reached toward the doorway you hesitated, bringing your hand back. Your heartrate picked up, pounding in your ears. You were going to turn around and run into your room, your safe place. Then you heard someone approach from behind you, making you quickly turn away from the glass doors.

“Beautiful day out, isn’t it?” Lucifer mentioned as he moved towards you.

“I suppose if you could call hell beautiful.”

“Some might, though I suppose we aren’t apart of that group. What are you doing over here?” He motioned toward the opened doors near me.

“I was going to see what the view was like, but I backed out.” You looked away from him, not being able to look him in his eyes. He stopped walking when he was right in from of you and grabbed your chin guiding you to look at him. In his eyes you could see concern and empathy.

“I know all too well what it’s like to be limited by your own mind. Not that we have a physiatrist in hell, but depression has had me for a long time.” He gave a small sympathetic smile. A small blush crossed your face being so close to him. Your heart melted a little at the kindness he showed you.

“Yea well, I just get anxious about going outside. I thought maybe I could try, but it was a stupid idea. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” He let go of your face and walked around you towards the balcony.

“I know it’s not my place, but I could help you. Not to be boastful, but you are in the presence of the most powerful demon in hell. You would be safe with me.”

With that he held out his hand, willing you to take it. In that light he looked angelic even waiting for your hand, a genuine smile across his face as the outside wind gently rustled his hair. For once in your life, you wish you could just take that leap. If only…

…and then you did.

He pulled you in close against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat as he told you to wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you did, he leapt off the side of the balcony over the railing. You closed your eyes and screamed as you both fell into a freefall. He wrapped his wings around you until they flapped open, allowing him to gain air. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, clinging to his neck and burying your face there. He chuckled to himself committing to memory this moment, feeling whole again. After about 10 minutes you both landed on solid ground. You didn’t dare let go, but he understood what you needed. Lucifer cradled you in his arms as he walked indoors.

“Here you go, you can open your eyes now.”

As you looked around you realized you were in an observatory-like room. It had high windows on all sides that looked out at Sin City. You didn’t realize until now how hard you were gripping him and embarrassingly tore yourself away from him.

“Sorry… Where are we?”

“Don’t be sorry for being yourself. It was cute.” You blushed and looked down at the floor, but quickly returned your eyes to him.

“It’s my study of sorts. I like to come up here to think or waste the day away. I used to invent so many beautiful things, but I’ve been uninspired for quite some time.”

You walked around taking in the view then turned back to look at him.

“Maybe you just need someone to inspire you.”

“Why are you willing?” He looked at you with a smirk on his face, almost implying something more.

“Sure, why not. Maybe you could help me get over my fears in return. I mean look at what you have already done for me today. I hadn’t left that hotel since I arrived.”

“Sounds like a plan, do we have a deal?” He walked toward you, willing you to take his hand again.

“What and make a deal with the devil?”

He pulled his hand away and for a second you swore you noticed hurt flash across his face. Quickly he hid it, behind a devilish smile and you decided then you’d never make him feel that way ever again.

“It doesn’t have to be, more so a saying then anything.”

You stepped forward taking his hand in yours. He lifted his head up to look into your eyes, his face slightly flushed.

“No, I want it to be, Lucifer. Let’s make a deal, to be there for each other until we can beat this. “

He nodded his head, smiling with loving eyes, tears forming in them. With that he placed his other hand over yours and spoke. His eyes turned red, horns sprouted, and he looked possessed. Just as fast as it started, it ended. In the end you were left with a pentagram tattoo on your right hand. It was beautiful, but soon it faded leaving just an indent of it behind.

“I enchanted it so that others cannot see it, however you can feel it. It will be binding until we fulfill the deal. I don’t own your soul or anything, but it acts like a bond between us. It will also let you teleport, put your hand over it and think of where you want to go. It’ll let me know where you’re going, but don’t worry I won’t pry.” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as for once you felt like you could finally take a breath. You felt much safer knowing Lucifer was a thought away.

After that you two kept each other company and every now and then he would show you something he made. His magic was gorgeous and made your heart soar, you’ve never seen anything like it. As the night dragged on you mentioned you should probably head back so that the other’s wouldn’t worry.

“Remember just touch the pentagram with your hand and think of where you want to go.”

As you did you thought of your warm bed and the pentagram flashed to life. Then you felt something. The bond between you two tightened and you felt him. His magic pulsed through him as if it was alive and in front of you a portal appeared. The bond closed then for you. It only stays opens when he uses his magic, but as you stared into Lucifer’s eyes you felt emotions overpower you. Thoughts of safe and warm and love flowed through your head. Lucifer looked confused and scared for a second before becoming his confident self again. You said your goodnights as you fled through the portal to your bed.

Lucifer’s POV

He watched as y/n touched her hand waiting for his magic. He hadn’t made many deals in his life, but he knew enough to know what to expect. There would be a bond in place caused from his magic and that would be used to make portals.

His eyes wandered y/n’s body taking a second to indulge. Quickly he reverted to her eyes as she looked back at him. He wondered when their short friendship turned into more, or if it simply always was. She made him feel safe and warm and loved. At that moment a small tendril of magic snapped into place. He stepped back afraid of the woman in front of him, before realizing how much he was showing with his face. After recomposing himself he bid her goodnight and she left with a sleepy smile on her face.

As the portal closed, he fell to his knees, wondering why fate would be so cruel. After thousands of years, trying to find something to inspire him and be his light. After all the fights with Lilith and trying to raise Charlie simply because he thought Lilith was it. With the palm of his hand, he wiped the tears away as he sobbed looking though the skylight at the darkness above. She wasn’t an archangel or a seraphim, or even an angel at all. All this torture and pain was for her.

His mate…

No, his salvation.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #reader x character #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer x you #angel dust #hazbin husk #huskerdust #nifty hazbin hotel

211 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 5 months

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him.

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true.

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks.

Foggy dislocated his shoulder.

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act.

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital.

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him.

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips.

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on.

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought.

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence.

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say.

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why?

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask.

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet.

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says.

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind.

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real.

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says.

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further.

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go.

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort.

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about.

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot.

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself.

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise.

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?”

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.”

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing.

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier.

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor.

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin.

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry.

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help.

“It’s fine,” he assures you.

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.”

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier.

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes.

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do.

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie.

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for.

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers.

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.”

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye.

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running.

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

219 notes · View notes

rafetopia · 4 months

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!drug boss!reader

genre: smut with some plot -> 18+ only!!

warnings: knife play, gun play, blood play, blood licking, mentions of death, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, implied sex on drugs, chocking (sexual way)...., i hope i didn't forget anything but yeah this one here is a little bit darker

even though this is all written with the intention that it's 100% consensual, please keep in mind that guns, knives (and indirectly drugs) are involved

words: ~5.7k

summary: a visit to his drug boss turned into a fight over control and power which can only one of them win

note: this is also repost from my old blog (dreamingwithrafe) and honestly, idk if this is edited

48 hours. That’s the amount of time Rafe Cameron had to come up with five thousand dollars. Sure, for someone like him this shouldn't be a big deal but his dad cut off his money as a punishment for misusing the money he gave him for generators after the storm “Agatha'' hit the outer banks. He was broke and in deep shit. So deep, that alone the thought of time passing every second sent a cold shiver down his spine. He knew Barry wasnt one to fuck with, no drug dealer was but it was something else, something that Barry said before Rafe left his house, that wouldnt leave his brain.

“If you’re screwing me, it’s not just me that you’re screwing, it’s her.”

Her.

Now, Rafe Cameron had never met her before but he heard the stories. Stories of cars burning in driveways, stories of boats that fail in the middle of the ocean and even whole companies being shut down all because of her. Not a lot of people on this island have ever come across her, or maybe they have but never knew it was her. Those unlucky souls that did indeed meet her, described her as a woman made of nothing but cold beauty, as if the devil made her himself. Eyes so pure and warm, a body so divine and perfect with a soul so dark and evil, even Lucifer himself would shiver if he ever looked into it.

But Rafe didn't believe these stories. How could a woman, described as barely older than him, be capable of something like that? How could someone with eyes so pure be so evil and yet, even though he tried to convince himself, alone the thought of being exposed to her anger, sent shivers down his spine.

And yet, he found himself at the address, an unknown number texted him, as word got around that he wanted to meet her. He had to check twice if he was at the right address, since he found himself in front of his step moms favorite flower shop.

He let his hand trace over his back pocket, checking if everything he might need was there, before he took a deep breath and walked towards the store.

“Hello darling, what can I do for you?” An elderly woman asked as soon as he entered the shop.

“I uhmm…” He paused as he tried to remember the code word that was given him. “I am here for uhmm… black lilies.”

“Black lilies?” She asked as she raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. Black lilies.”

“Well then you have to come with me, sir.” She signalized him to follow her and walked into the private area of the shop where she stopped in front of a door. She opened it with her key before signaling him to go inside. It was an old utility room, or so he thought. In reality it was some sort of elevator that brought him down into the basement of the building.

When the door opened, he found himself in some sort of dark office. It looked comfortable, even though it had no sort of daylight. Even though the room had no windows, it smelled fresh in there, like flowers. He quickly found them on the shelf next to another door, probably coming from the flower shop above them. In the middle was a desk and behind it, sat a woman, with a glass of brown liquor in her right hand and a newspaper in the other. She was laying back in her chair with her feet resting on the desk.

“I’ve been expecting you, Rafe Cameron.” She said, without looking up at the man in front of the elevator. “Now come on darling, take a seat.” She smiled softly as she gestured to the seat on the other side of the desk. He was only now able to see her whole and they weren’t wrong. She was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, with eyes so soft he felt like he could tell her everything. Her wavy hair was falling over her shoulders gracefully, matching her silky black dress perfectly. he didn’t see much of it, since it was hidden behind her desk but it was tight, so tight that he could see the borders of what he assumed were nipple piercings, making it hard for Rafe to keep his eyes up.

“Thank you, Miss …”

“(Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N).” He finished.

“Now, can I offer you something to drink, Mr. Cameron?” She asked, with a smile so beautiful, one could easily forget who she was.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“So whiskey or vodka? I also got rum but you don’t really seem like a rum type of person.”

“Whiskey.” He answered shortly.

She nodded and poured him a drink. He took the time she was distracted to look around her office a little bit more, trying to figure out if she could have any weapons hidden but there was one thing he’d noticed immediately, since the second he entered that office.

“So… are you alone down here?” He asked, trying to hide the slight shakiness in his voice.

She looked at him in disbelief before handing him his drink. “That’s not a subtle way to find out if it’s just the two of us, Mr. Cameron.”

“Oh god, no I… I just thought that maybe you’d have some security or something.”

“See darling, if i’ve learned one thing during my few years in this business, it’s to not trust anyone else with my safety, except myself.” She scoffed. “But why are you asking? Are your intentions not as pure as I thought they were?” She asked carefully, her eyes never leaving him.

Her gaze burned right through him, causing him to shit around in his seat. “Oh no they are as pure as they can be.” He spoke, his voice a little bit shakier than he intended to be and his eyes not leaving the desk in front of him, as he desperately tried to avoid hers. He was clearly nervous and she knew it.

“Hmmm.” She purred as she swung her legs from the table in order to position herself closer to him. He now looked around the room, pretending like he was just waiting for a response when he suddenly felt a cold material against his skin, gently pushing his face up. He didn't need to look in order to know what it was, he knew exactly what the barrel of a gun felt like. He swallowed at the realization, now slowly looking up into her eyes. What once seemed so warm and welcoming once, now turned ice cold. “Then tell me, pretty boy, why aren’t you able to look me in the eyes? You haven't once since you arrived here, only starring when I wasn’t looking. Such a shame actually, you have such pretty eyes.”

“I…” He wanted to say something but it was like the words suddenly left his brain, but even if he had known what to say, he wouldn’t have gotten any word out due to his throat turning dry as dust.

“Shht it’s okay, darling, I knew about that gun in your backpocket since the moment you got here. You should really learn how to hide it better. Now tell me, why did you want to meet?” She smirked, “And before you answer, slowly put your gun up here and leave your hands on the table. Don’t bother lying sweetheart, I’ll know.” Her voice turned dark now, nothing like the sweet sound from when he first got there.

“Fine.” He growled, as he reached into his back pocket and did as he was told. She pushed the gun aside with a grin, her eyes still not leaving him for a second. “I owe you money, a lot actually and-”

“And you wanted to ask for more time?” She let out a soft laugh.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend like you didn’t know that already.” The boy scoffed and it was as if something shifted in him. “Now you have my hands and my gun, what about you putting that thing away so we can have a civilized conversation.”

“So, so many demands, one could think you’re the one charge.”

“Oh no baby, we all know you are.” He smirked, a dark sparkle in his light eyes.

She was clearly surprised at his sudden confidence but impressed enough to put the gun away. “So you came here, only to tell me that you have no money?” She chuckled. “That’s bold.”

“I thought maybe I could do something else for you, to pay my debt.” The young man proposed, causing the girl to raise an eye. “A job, of course.” He added quickly as he realized how his proposal sounded at first. Even though he would have lied to himself if he said he wouldn’t be open for that as well.

“And what job do you have in mind Mr. Cameron?” She asked as she leaned forward, crossing her arms under her chest. “What could you possibly do for me that would cover your debt?”

“You tell me.” He smirked confidently. “You’re the boss, aren't you?” Now it was him that moved closer to her. It was hard to tell for either of them where this new found confidence came from when his heart was in his boots only moments ago. But there was something else Rafe was feeling, a feeling that came up everytime she laid her eyes on him. He was smitten by her beauty and her power and he didn’t want to admit it but he was impressed. How did she manage to climb that ladder up so high, in a business that was dominated by middle aged men?

“Right… You know, I might actually have a job for you.”

“Continue…”

She told him about how she needed a driver for her next shipment since her regular one got into an accident. It was an easy job and would pay way more than he owed her. He was in immediately, no further questions asked. She was about to explain the details when her phone started ringing.

“Excuse me.” She mumbled as she grabbed her phone and disappeared into the next room.

While she was gone, Rafe used the time to look around when his eyes fell on the leftovers of some white powder next to her glass. He wasn’t craving anything right now, but he knew he’d be later.

Rafe also knew it was a bad idea from the moment he got it but he knew how the withdrawal would feel like, he had to go through it way too often before. So he got up and carefully looked around, trying to find any sign of her coming back but he could still hear her cussing around in the other room in a language that he assumed was Spanish. It made sense since he knew she had contacts in middle and south america.

He walked around the desk, trying not to make a sound, until he was standing next to her empty chair. He tried to open the drawers but none of them would open except for one. He carefully opened it and there it was, a tiny bag of white powder.

He thought about it for another moment, knowing this would probably be the stupidest thing he ever did, even worse than buying that bike from the generator money, but then, when the addiction hit, no one was able to think rational and Rafe Cameron the least.

He took the bag and quietly closed the drawer, again, trying not to make any alarming noises.

He shoved the bag into his pocket and let himself fall back into the seat, as he waited for her to come back.

“I’m so sorry darling, someone messed up my last shipment and now they’ve got the cops investigating.”

“I… I’m sorry to hear that ma’am.”

“Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart, it will resolve itself on its own soon.” She smirked confidently as if she had a backup plan for something like this all along.

“I’m afraid I have to leave now…” Rafe stumbled, trying to contain his voice from becoming all shaky again but it was hard considering he just robbed a drug boss. “Can you… can you text me the details?”

“Sure.” She answered, with a smile on her face that was way too soft and friendly for his liking.

He got up and reached out to shake her hand, which she returned. “Then…thank you for giving me this chance and I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, you won’t.” She smirked and got closer to him, dangerously closer to him.

He gave her a stern and rather uncomfortable nod before he turned around on his heels, dying to get out of there as soon as possible. He thought he did it when he suddenly felt the cold metal of a gun pressed against his head. He closed his eyes at the feeling, trying to stay calm because he knew doing that was his best and probably only option.

“Did you really think I would just let you walk away after you stole from me?” She whispered into his ear, followed by a soft laugh. “You really are dumber than I thought.”

“If you shoot me, you will never see your money.” He spoke quietly.

“You think I’m relying on your money?” She chuckled. “Sweetheart, I'd buy myself a new pair of heels from the money you owe me.” He took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do next. He still had his gun in his back pocket but she was standing so close to him, he was sure that she even felt it against her leg. “Now put your hands up, pretty boy.”

He did as told and slowly turned around, now looking directly into her stone cold eyes. He tried to keep cool but his heart was pounding like it never had before. He was scared, obviously but there was also something about this scenario that turned him on. Maybe it was the intoxicating smell of her perfume, maybe it was the way her eyes flickered when she scanned him upside down, or maybe it was the way her dress hugged her body so perfectly, like it was made just for her, revealing just the perfect amount of skin but not too much. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, she was dangerous, she was a killer and soon she would have his blood on her hands but if she was so bad, then why was so down for her?

He tried to hide it but she saw the fear in his eyes. He was terrified and she thought it was adorable. She didn’t lie earlier, she never lied, he did have pretty eyes and if she wasn't careful she might have lost herself in them. She had trouble admitting it to herself but she was intrigued. How could such a pretty boy, coming from one of the richest families of the island get himself in so much trouble? Stealing from her? Especially after she was so gracious and offered him a job to pay his debt? She knew what she had to do, she had to keep up her reputation after all but if she knew what to do then why wasn’t he dead on the floor already? Why was he still standing in front of her? If she knew what to do then why wasn’t he on his knees, pleading for his damn life? If she knew what to do then why was she still standing there, thinking about the taste of his lips on hers?

He got closer to her, as he bit his lips while his eyes flickered from hers down to her lips. He was close, his lips almost touching hers and his breath so hot against her skin it always felt like he could burn her. She was the one with her finger against the trigger and yet her heart beat so fast, she thought it might explode.

“So what, you gonna shoot me now?” He whispered.

“You know I have to. You stole from me.”

“Hm.” He chuckled softly against her lips. “Then do it sweetheart, shoot me.”

She closed her eyes, preparing to pull the trigger when she suddenly felt his lips on hers. The kiss was slow and shaky at first, considering he still had a gun to his head but it quickly turned into something hungry and passionate. She leaned into it as she pushed him against the wall behind them. She could feel him smirking against her lips as his hand wandered over her hips until it landed on her ass. She tried to stay focused, careful not to lose control with her gun still pressed onto his head, signaling him one wrong move and it could all be over. But she couldn't keep her focus for long, as his kisses got more intense each second and his hand movements became bolder with each kiss. It was as if he forgot about his situation, or as if he just stopped caring. She was about to forget it herself when he suddenly swung her around, making her drop the gun at the harsh impact against the wall. She wanted to do something about it but got quickly stopped by a clicking sound and the feeling of cold metal against her head.

She swallowed at the sudden change of situation, knowing he was in control now. She silently cursed at herself for not taking his gun away when she stopped him in front of the elevator but maybe some part of her knew what they were doing when she chose to ignore it.

“You dropped something, princess.” He smirked, knowing god damn well he won this round. “I’m in charge now.”

“Looks like it.” She whispered as she bit her lip. “Then tell me darling, what happens next?”

(Y/N) would lie if she said she didn’t like how the tables have turned. She would lie if she said it didn’t drive her crazy how he tricked her into losing her focus. She would lie when she said it didn’t make her even hornier than before and the pool in her thong proved it.

She could regain control of the situation with ease and he would be stupid if he thought otherwise. (Y/N) knew what she was doing, she knew to never rely on solely one weapon, she knew better than that.

Coward. She thought to herself after she didn’t get any response. She leaned in and started kissing his neck in order to take matters into her own hand. She knew what she had to do and his lack of anticipation only made it easier for her. Or so she thought.

“Wanna make you feel good.” She breathed into his ear as she gently dug her teeth into his soft skin. “Please.”

“But what gentleman would I be if I wouldn't make sure you’re satisfied first?” He smiled. “Rafe Cameron always makes sure his girl is satisfied first.”

She swallowed at the realization that he saw right through her. Because Rafe knew better than to trust her. “Now head back against the wall, princess.” He grinned. “And don’t move.”

She did as she was told and leant back. He leant in as he started placing wet kisses on her neck before traveling back to her lips where his tongue quickly gained control of her mouth. His one finger still on the trigger, his other hand went down and slowly crawled under the dress where he was met with the sharp end of a pocket knife. He laughed at the pain, knowing he was right.

“Hm, would you look at that?” He grinned as he pulled it out from beneath her dress, blood dripping down his hand. “Look what you did to me baby.” He didn't really expect an answer and he didn’t get one. All he got was a wicked smirk on her lips and a look so evil, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. She slowly reached on to his hand, never breaking eye contact as she put his fingers into her mouth, careful not to cut herself with the knife still in his hands. She sucked off every single drop of blood before releasing his fingers.

“Took care of it, didn’t I?”

He chuckled at the realization of what just happened before leaning back in. The kiss was hungrier now, as his tongue traced her mouth, making him taste his own blood on her tongue. He put the gun back into his pocket, knowing it would be easier if he focused on one weapon at a time.

She could feel the sharp blade tracing over her skin as he cut off her thong with one quick cut. She whined at the pain as the knife cut her skin, causing Rafe to giggle. “What? Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He asked with a tone of fake concern in his voice.

“Just a tickle.”

“Hmmm.” He mourned against her skin as he let his tongue travel over her skin, cleaning up the blood trail the knife caused. “So sweet.”

She gasped at the burning pain when his saliva met her wound but let her head fall back against the wall, as his tongue swirled through her folds and sweet moans escaped her mouth. This man knew exactly what he was doing as he let the tip of his tongue trace over her clit before slamming it back inside. He still held the knife in his one hand, ready just in case she got any stupid ideas but his other hand was free to support his tongue. She held up her leg and laid it onto his shoulder, giving him not only more space to work his wonders but also giving her control over his movements. Because even if Rafe thought he had all the power, (Y/N) would never give up complete control.

She tried to keep quiet at first, not wanting Rafe to know how much she loved this but he saw how wet she was before and he could feel her walls tighten around his tongue, knowing she was close.

“Don’t try to hide your pretty voice for me darling, let me hear you.” He muffled against her pussy, sending vibrations through her body that only brought her closer to the edge.

“Don’t… don’t stop!” She whimpered between her moans.

And he didn’t stop. He kept going faster and deeper until her screams filled the room and he was pretty sure the lady from above could hear them. He helped her ride out her orgasm and licked it all clean afterwards, looking like a little boy who just got his first ice cream.

“Now, on your knees.” He demanded, as he let his pants slip down his legs, revealing his cock in front of her. She smirked at the sight, disappointed that her plan didn't work earlier but still hungry for him.

She opened up as she let the tip of his length slide over tongue, the taste of precum traveling through her mouth. He still had the knife in his hand but her movements ripped him out of reality and forced him to forget his environment, only focusing on the touch of her tongue on his skin. (Y/N) knew exactly what she was doing, her tongue tracing over his cock as if it was programmed to do just this and nothing else.

She looked up at him with innocent eyes but he could see an evil sparkle shining right back at him.

It didn’t take long until he was falling apart inside her but she took it all, like he did before. He was so wrapped up in the feeling of euphoria that he hadn’t noticed and before he knew she was standing right in front of him with the knife under his chin. As he slowly came to realize what just happened, he tried to carefully reach into his back pocket but he was met with nothing.

“You looking for this, pretty boy?” She smirked devilishly, as she let the small gun spin through her fingers.

He swallowed, knowing that she had it all and he had indeed, nothing. “What now, princess? Gonna kill me now?” He got closer to her, completely ignoring the sharp pain of the knife that started to bury itself into his skin. “Do it. Do it baby but we both know that we’re not quite finished yet.” He whispered against her skin, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

She knew she could end it now, end it and she would win. But then she would never know how he would feel inside of her. She would never know how it feels to have him thrusting against her g-spot or how it would feel to be skin to skin with his naked body.

“You’re hesitating.” He stated, with narrowed eyes as if he was about to realize something. He chuckled softly, before slowly taking her wrist and moving it away from his throat. “You can let go sweetheart, I'm not going to run from you.”

She looked up at him, debating whether she should trust him or not. He gently let his hand slide through her hair as he pulled away loose strands and tugged them behind her ear and for a second, he could’ve sworn there was a softness in her eyes that he had never seen before. “I don’t…” She tried to say but she was too distracted. Too distracted by his hand in her hair and his other on her wrist and too distracted by his scent that blew through her nose, intoxicating all her senses.

“Shhht.” He whispered softly, with his finger now on her lips. “You don’t have to say anything darling.” He smiled. “Just relax.”

She looked at him, his eyes full of warmth, something that she hasn’t seen too often before. It felt as if he genuinely liked her, as if genuinely cared but then who was she fooling, he probably just wanted to distract her into giving into him once again. And it worked. The moment his lips touched hers she lost. The kiss was slow, not as hungry and passionate as before, as if he tried to calm her down. As if he could feel how fast her heart beat in her chest, how nervous she became with every second. He gently pushed her back against the table, hoping she’d let go of the weapons in her hands but she held steady. He had her but she was still the one in control and he hated that. His mouth wandered to her neck where he traced his tongue up to her ear, gently nibbling around her earlobe.

“Hop up baby.” He breathed into her, causing her to moan out at the tickling feeling in her ear.

The feeling shot through her whole body as she lost control of any power circling through her hands. She lost the feeling of metal against her skin but she didn’t notice, not even the klirr as the gun met the ground beneath her. All she felt was his hot breath against her skin and his erection against her cunt, that she lost sight of everything around her.

She did as told and hopped up on her desk. Rafe let go of her wrist and held up his arms, so she could pull off his shirt. She laid the knife beside her and pushed the fabric of his shoulders while he pushed his boxers down his legs completely. He then pushed her dress away under her ass until he could pull it off her body. He stopped for a second, completely hypnotized by the beauty of her body. The tattoos that marked her skin, a thin, red dragon that made its way up her rips in the right side of her body, a black rose under her left boob and many other small ones such as a date under her right boob. But the one that caught his attention the most was a snake, just between her tits. Thin, black lines with red details that crawled their way up her sternum. It only took over a small part of her body, and yet it looked incredibly majestic.

She watched him as he mustered her body, probably thinking what each of the pictures on her skin meant. He gently let his hand travel over her skin, until his thumbs reached her nipples. He carefully slid over the cold metal of her piercings, causing her to get goosebumps all over her skin.

“You’re beautiful.” He smiled softly. “Now lay down for me princess.”

She swung her leg over the table, accidentally pushing off their glasses from before. She winced at the sound of the glass breaking but quickly calmed down as Rafe hopped on right behind her, now sitting on top of her. His lips not even inches away from hers, he let his finger slide over her skin until he reached her clit. He gently massaged her until he slid inside, making sure she was ready for him.

“Please…” She whimpered, but he pulled out his fingers and placed them on her mouth, making her taste herself.

“Patience darling.” He whispered against her lips, “You want me inside of you but I don’t even know your name.”

He was right, she had only told him her last name. Only very close people to her knew her first name and Rafe Cameron, was so far away from close and yet he was the one she felt the closest to she had felt in a very long time.

“(Y/N)…” She breathed against his skin, “It’s… It’s (Y/N)”

“How pretty. Now are you gonna be a good girl for me (Y/N)?” He smiled at her nod and gently pushed himself inside her. She was indeed ready for him as he didn’t even need to use his fingers for help.

They both moaned out in sync at the feeling of him inside her. He took her hand and buried his inside, while his other hand went to her throat. She let out a quiet moan at the pressure against it, and let her hand travel through his hair, pulling him down into her lips.

While she dominated his mouth, he had control of his movements. It was as if they were made for each other, his tip perfectly reaching her spot every time he thrusted into her walls hugging him so tight, as if they never wanted to let him go again.

“You’re so tight baby girl…” He breathed out, “So perfect for me.”

She wrapped her legs around his back, losing one of her heels in the process. She pushed him even closer into her, almost screaming at the feeling as he thrusted into her even stronger. Her walls tightened around him, he knew she was close but he didn’t want it to end yet, no he wanted this to last forever.

“Rafe…” She whimpered, tears in her eyes as he pushed her closer towards her breaking point.

“Hold on baby girl, hold on for me.” He whispered as he leaned in for another kissing session. His one hand united with hers, his other leaving choking marks on her neck while her nails traced red lines over his back, so that everyone knew who he belonged to. Her.

She had never felt this sort of connection before, sure he messed up, he had bad intentions the second he entered her office but she couldn’t help it. He had her wrapped around his finger and they both knew it. Maybe it was his smile, maybe it was the way his scent intoxicated her thoughts or maybe it was just the drugs but in this moment she would’ve done everything for him and (Y/N) was never one to fall for anyone.

“Faster baby.” She whimpered between the kisses, a wish he was only happy to grant.

He sped up his pace causing her to scream out his name. “Music to my ears.” He chuckled. He then went even faster as his orgasm started to build up as well.

“Hm can’t hold it anymore…” She cried out, a tear streaming down her face. “Please…”

He thrusted into her harder and merciless as her walls tightened around him and they both let out moans and screams of pleasure as they reached their breaking points.

She had her eyes closed, as she tried to recover from her high, a soft smile on her lips. He took that picture in for a second, her makeup all messed up from her tears. It was a beautiful sight and he wished he would never have to look at something different but he also knew what he had to do.

She was about to open her eyes and say something, when she felt cold and sharp metal pressed against her throat. She opened her eyes back up and looked at his, eyes dark but with a hint of sorrow buried inside of them.

“Hm.” She scoffed. “Of course.” She tried to stay cool but he saw the tears forming in her eyes.

He was still sitting on her, pressing her body down on and cornering her between himself and the cold table beneath them. There was no way for her to turn this around and they both knew it.

He made her give up her weapon and she trusted him. She let down her guard, something that she had never done before with anyone and now she had to pay the price.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into her ear as he leaned down. “But we both knew this could only end in two ways.” He paused, leaning back to look into her eyes, gently wiping away the tear rolling out of her beautiful eye. “And… and it seems like I won.”

“Seems like you did.” She whispered before closing her eyes and accepting whatever fate it was that Rafe Cameron had for her.

add yourself to my tag list here

#jas writes ❥#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader

165 notes · View notes

unreadpoppy · 1 month

Text

Fic recs

In light of some stuff I saw, I decided to make this post to briefly talk about some fics I really like and recommend them. All are BG3 related and most are Raphael. Also, there's some authors that write a lot of great fics, I'll try to keep one fic per author or else we'll be here forever (but definetly go check everyone and their other works out!)

...

Cheerful Oblivion by @sassyandsodone - Read the tags before reading this but Love me dark stuff, the writing is amazing (legitimetly gasped at a few points) and the mix of Tav not remembering what happened and the dehumanization aspects were the cherry on top. It

I Don't Think About You Anymore (But I don't think about you any less) by @sky-kiss - This fic put me in a lot of different feels, ESPECIALLY SAD (which i do like, love when stuff makes me feel) and the ending was unexpected to me but it made it all worth it. Shed a tear or two

Devil's Debauchery by ChildofYugotth - One of the first fics I read on the Raphael tag, the first chapter lives in my mind rent free for many, many days, and I really like how the three chapters kinda go like regular raphael, haarlep and then ascended fiend, like a progression. Also read the tags.

Fallen in Flame by @cambion-companion - Love the dynamic between the two characters and how their relationship developed and the conflicting feeling that Tav has of like, being an aasimar and dealing with a devil

The Devil that knows you by @timesthatneverwere - Cat!Tav was not something I knew I needed before reading this. The relationship between Tav, Raphael and even Haarlep in this one is VERY interesting to me (and has lowkey inspired me some times) and I love seeing Raphael keeping secrets and manipulating people (also i have to mention, this fic gave us the mephisto fuck chamber)

Let the dream begin by DiscordsMuse - POTO inspired, this has hit me in the feels with relating to Morrigans struggles of feeling rejected, and honestly, Raphael as the Phantom was amazing.

finirà bene by @inaconstantstateofchange - A Halsin/Astarion/Tav one for a change, this is such an interesting and heartbreaking concept, but there's also this sense of mystery that I think is really well done. Also, beware the ANGST

Her soul will burn all the way down by khapikat222 - Read the tags, another dark fic that I loved, and this one had this manipulation and fucking with someone's fears that I really liked. Also, props to the author for making the lullaby fit, it was a great cherry on top.

Baldur's gate 3 infernal oneshots by @hrefna-the-raven - chapters 1-4 are a little story between Raphael and Tav that I really liked. The dynamic of raphael being more protective and the cat and mouse analogies were really fun!

The Intimacy of Pain by @bearhugsandshrugs - This is an Abdirak/Tav fic which I found so delightfully good, like the descriptions of how Tav was feeling and the mix of pleasure and pain were really well done

The Devil's Hour by @adarlingwrites - Also one of the first fics in the tag that I read, and what made me like OC x Canon, love the complicated but also interesting to read relationship between Fortune and Raphael, and another aspect that I really liked was Fortune's relationship with art and her parents being brought up like (like idk why but those two things really stuck with me)

Sweetening the Deal by @adevilyoudo - I have to admit that I'm a bit behind on some chapters BUT it's a great work, love seeing this side of Raphael of trying to convince Tav to take this deal (and in a way, almost confusing her even more) and I loved to see the side of the Emperor constantly being in Tav's head, I think it really conveyed well how that feels like when playing the game

The Devil You Share a Room with by @djmorn - Really fun concept and the shennanigans between the two in the beggining, when Tav is reluctant to share a room with Raphael, was a delight to read and really really fun.

Damaged by @dark-and-kawaii - This is a Rolan/Tav one, it's dark but it also tugged at my heart in a sad way, with Rolan feeling all these things and doing what he does because of the abuse he suffered and Tav also trying to understand that. Like aaaa it just, it's some good stuff this fic

Who's the Daddy by Follyfall - This fic is the definition of fun and a good time, I legitimetly laughed a lot while reading it. The writing is fun, the concept is hilarious and the relationship between Raphael, Tav, Haarlep, the baby and Wyll is really really fun.

...

Also, keep in mind that there's A LOT of amazing writers in the bg3 community and i haven't read every single written work in the tags ever, so feel free to also reblog and add reccomendations of your own, or make your own post!

#fic rec #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3

92 notes · View notes

dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 months

Note

Could you write fluff for Kishibe where the reader forces him to bake with her? (AFAB reader if possible, please)!

Baking With Kishibe

A/n: since Christmas is approaching, I thought I should make it a little more Christmasy so there you go, hopefully you will like this. Also, I never thought there would be people actually requesting Kishibe when I started writing for him which makes me extremely happy

Pairing: Kishibe x afab!reader

Warnings: absolutely none

It had taken a lot of convincing for Kishibe to actually put some of his worries aside and indulge in the Christmas spirit. He had helped you with the tree you had set in the living room of your apartment, placing some balls here and there and lifting you up to place the star on top in the end.

But this was as far as he was willing to go. It wasn't that he didn't like Christmas. It was that he had forgotten how to celebrate it after all those years in his line of work.

"Please, I am begging you." You poked his scarred cheek which was a bad decision since there was a 99,9% chance that he would refuse once again.

"No."

"It's just cookies Kishibe." You sighed, falling back on the bed. He reached his hand to cover you with the warm blanket. It was unusual that he had a day off but it was heavily snowing so there wasn't much he could do. "Though I would appreciate your help in the gingerbread house."

"Absolutely not."

Long story short, he had no idea how he had ended up in your kitchen, wearing a red apron over his grey sweatpants and white shirt. Actually he had a vague idea; he would do anything for you. Anything to keep you happy and make you forget about the sorrow and pain of the devil-filled world the two of you lived in. If that meant that he had to bake cookies while wearing a Santa Claus hat then so be it.

He was lucky and glad that Power, Denji and Aki weren't there to see him.

"Now you're supposed to crack the eggs." His blank eyes travelled to you, raising his brows slightly at how good your ass looked when you were bent over the counter, reading the recipe. But eh quickly looked away and focused on the bowl in front of him.

"Am I?" He said, almost indifferently but he was secretly enjoying it. He hadn't felt so safe and happy in a place in a long time. "Let's make a deal, I'll crack the eggs if you let me remove that stupid hat."

"I'll do the eggs then." You moved in front of him, completely ignoring his protests.

Yet Kishibe didn't let you. Letting out a sigh which stemmed from the fact that he was standing for so long and not from his frustration like he wanted it to be, he picked up an egg and cracked it in the bowl.

"There you go." You reached up to pat his head. "See? This is so fun! Don't you love baking?"

Oh he knew you were doing it on purpose. He knew you were secretly taking pictures of him in this ridiculous outfit but he didn't care. If it meant that it would put a smile on your lovely face then he would gladly dress as an elf and dance around the fireplace for you.

"No."

But he did. He did because he was in your apartment, with you, safe and away from his daily life as a devil hunter. He wasn't Kishibe from Special Division 1. He was just Kishibe. A grumpy aspiring baker who would most probably have to clean the kitchen up since you always fell asleep after eating. Your Kishibe.

#kishibe x reader #kishibe chainsaw man x reader #kishibe csm x reader #kishibe #kishibe csm #kishibe chainsaw man #kishibe chainsaw man fluff #kishibe x reader fluff #csm kishibe #csm kishibe x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #csm #csm x reader #anime and manga #writing #anime #manga

85 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

Text

A Dead Man & his Raven

Chapter 2

Note: happy spooky season! this fic is inspired by The Crow, Sihtric being based on Eric Draven. Follow up to Chapter 1. Several quotes from the movie and comic are used in the following chapters, they are marked bold, as they are not my own. I was often interrupted while proof reading this chapter, so ignore any errors :)

Warning for entire series: 18+! angst/fluff. this story deals with death, losing a loved one, depression, suicidal thoughts/attempts (no details), murder (described), violence. There is also a lot of fluff, but you have been warned.

Warnings for this chapter: angst/fluff. mention of death, murder, fright, drugs, blood.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You were reminded of your first kiss with Sihtric.

wordcount: 4,3k

Masterlist

'I promise you're safe with me.'

The dead don't carry keys, Sihtric thought as he searched his pockets, but they fucking should.

He snickered at his own thoughts after he had finally stumbled his way home, where he realised he couldn't get in. He looked down at his hands, finding them completely healed again. No more blood, no more cuts. And he scoffed, then looked up at the sky.

You gave me the ability to heal from my wounds but you forgot to give me a key to my home? Nice one, Odin. Now what?

He looked around the empty street, the only movement being water that ran down into the sewer, and then he looked back at the front door.

I could ring the bell, Sihtric thought, and a grin appeared. Ding-dong! Hello, angel, your murdered fiancé is home again! Did you miss me? His grin fell off his face slowly, for hurt and despair to take over. Because I have missed you, my love. He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply as he recalled your face. I have missed you with every fibre of my entire being. If I wasn't already dead, I would have killed myself single-handedly over and over again, because living without you is unbearable. He angrily kicked at the door. Don't worry, love, I can't die twice I've been told. But I swear I will kill every single fucking bastard who did this to us. He kicked the door again. I will kill every last man who broke us up, before we could even vow to not let death do us part. They're dead, my love. They're all dead. They just don't know it yet. He kicked the door again, harder this time, as his tears fell down with the rain.

'They're all fucking dead!' Sihtric growled, and kicked the door open with force.

The neverending nightmare.

More or less recovered from your breakdown after work, you managed to continue your drive home. You ran up to your front door, through the pouring rain, and when you wanted to stick your key in the door, you saw it had been breached open. You looked around you, but there was not a sight of anyone nearby. The street may be empty, you thought, but it was still Devil's Night. The night on which people commit petty crimes as well as serious crimes, such as murdering your fiancé last year, because the cops can't be everywhere at once. Therefore, you also knew that calling the police would not be of any help right now. A simple house robbery was not of importance on a night like this.

With trembling hands you pushed the door further open and you quietly stepped inside. You waited in the dark hallway for a minute, but didn't hear a single sound, apart from the violent rain outside. You walked down the hallway and, before reaching the door to the living room, you carefully took an umbrella from underneath the coat rack. Armed with your pathetic weapon of choice, you then kicked the second door completely open with force.

'If anyone is here I swear I will bash your fucking head in!' you shouted, holding the umbrella tightly in your shaky hands.

While breathing heavily, you once again waited for any kind of sound or movement as you looked around the pitch black room. And again, apart from the rain, it was quiet and there was no movement. Until a sudden voice scared you half to death.

'You would bash my fucking head in with that umbrella, my angel?' the voice said, and a soft chuckle followed, 'an angel of death you would truly be.'

Your heart skipped numerous beats at the familiar voice; your favourite voice, which sound you had missed so desperately. The umbrella fell out of your hands and you immediately turned to switch on the lights, only to stare into a cold, empty room.

'What the fuck!' you breathed, eyes wide.

You exhaled sharply after a few long secons and let out a laugh, which turned into a sob as you realised you had imagined Sihtric's voice. You already were afraid you would start imagining and hearing things around the first anniversary date of his death, but this had seemed so real. It truly scared you and made you even more upset than you already had been. You kicked at the umbrella in front of you and, when you turned back to the hallway, suddenly one cold hand grabbed your chin as the other covered your mouth to silence you.

And you stared up into Sihtric's mismatched eyes.

'Please do not be frightened of me, angel,' Sihtric said fast, but calm, hoping you weren't going to scream. Or punch him in the face.

Your eyes grew even wider, and Sihtric removed his hands after a moment, taking a step back.

'N-no,' you whispered, fear and near insanity laced your voice, and you stumbled backwards into the hallway, landing hard on your behind with a soft cry.

'No,' you then chuckled, 'this isn't real,' you said while crawling backwards.

Your nails scratched at the wooden floor, and your wet shoes squeaked while desperately trying to get away from whatever your imagination was projecting right now.

'Darling,' Sihtric said, and he crouched down, reaching out with his pale, trembling hand.

'No!' you screamed and covered your face with your hands, crying as you shook your head, 'leave me alone! This isn't real! This isn't real!' you shouted, pulling your own hair as you kept your eyes closed, rocking back and forth in the corner of your hallway.

'Shh, shh,' Sihtric hushed you, and cupped your cold, trembling hands with his own, stopping you from trying to tear your hair out.

'Listen to me-'

'No!' you cried out, terrified, backing yourself up further into the corner, but there was no escape from this nightmare blended dream.

'Listen to me!' Sihtric said again, compassionate but firm, 'it's real. I am real,' he slowly pulled your hands away from your face and cupped your cheeks. 'Look at me,' he whispered, 'look at me, please,' and at last, his voice broke under the pressure of his own emotions, 'I need you to look at me, angel,' he said with a sob.

Your body trembled as you slowly opened your eyes, teardrops stuck to your eyelashes, blurring your vision when you finally dared to look at Sihtric, who then sat back, giving you space as you rubbed your eyes free of tears as much as possible.

Sihtric, who was not a figment of your imagination, was actually truly there. Your dead fiancé. He was there. Kneeled down right in front of you, staring at you with his big, teared up eyes as he took in every inch of your face.

'I… I… don't… unders-s-stand,' you nearly panicked.

'I will explain,' Sihtric said, 'but, please… just,' he inhaled sharply as tears started to roll down his cheeks, 'p-please just hold me, please,' his trembling hands reached out to you again, 'I'm so… so cold. I've been so cold without you. I need to- to feel you, please?'

And then, without thinking or having any doubt in your mind, you wrapped your arms around him. You tightly held the man who had your undying love. You breathed in the familiar scent of the man you thought you would never see again. And you both cried as you held each other, down on the floor, hiding in the corner of your hallway, while the wind outside howled and the rain came crashing down.

'Sihtric?' you said with a soft sob.

'Please,' Sihtric whispered, and his cold hands took your face again, 'please, kiss me,' he breathed.

And your lips found those of the man who had taken your heart with him to his grave, after his own heart had stopped beating, exactly one year ago, at the corner of the street you still lived on. And you suddenly remembered your first kiss.

Love at first sight.

Many, many moons ago, you met Sihtric for the first time at your local concert venue. His band, Hangman's Joke, had finished their set about half an hour ago and they already packed up all their gear, which one of their members had loaded in a van before taking off.

It was your first time hearing and seeing the band, but you enjoyed it, and you couldn't deny that the guy who was the lead guitarist as well as the lead singer, was as cute as he was hot. He was dressed in black leather boots, black leather jeans and a black shirt which had tears and holes in it. He was very muscular, and you had to stop yourself from staring the entire time. He was almost ghostly pale, truly nailing the whole gothic look, without even seeming to try. His dark, shoulder length hair was wild, but not in a neglected kind of way. He had a well kept goatee, which told you this guy clearly took care of himself, unlike most so-called underground rockstars you knew of. You definitely enjoyed the amount of eye contact you had with him during his performance, and to your pleasant surprise, you suddenly found him standing next to you. When you looked up, he was already gazing at you, leaning on the bar while he smiled.

'Hey,' he said, with a faint hint of shyness, 'may I buy you a drink?'

You tried to suppress your smile and rolled your eyes as you looked away for a second. Was this going to be a cheap pick up attempt? You weren't easy like that, but he was to die for, really. So you decided to test him.

'That depends. Do you always pick up girls after a show?' you asked, desperately trying to not be intimidated yet intrigued by his strong appearance.

'Oh, all the time,' Sihtric scoffed, clearly pretending to be offended, 'it's a hobby of mine to see how many I can get in my bed in one night.'

'I see,' you feigned being impressed, 'and how many are you expecting to land in your bed tonight?'

'Tonight? Just one,' Sihtric said with a cheeky half smile as he leaned in, 'just you,' he winked.

You couldn't help but laugh and blush at his words. He was obviously unserious about his "hobby", but there was truth in his last answer, you could tell.

'Very smooth,' you chuckled.

'Yeah?' he laughed, 'did I impress you by giving you merely a vague hint about my wild sex adventures after shows?'

'Almost,' you snorted, and couldn't get yourself to look away from his eyes as he smiled so sweetly at you.

There was something so sincere about him, so honest. There was again that hint of shyness in his smile, as the dimly lit venue couldn't quite hide his slightly flushed cheeks, which had reddened after you had smiled at him. He fidgeted with his rings, which told you he was a little nervous, or maybe high on drugs, you thought, but you noticed his pupils were rather normal. You also noticed his eyes were two different colours, and you felt you could easily get lost in those for hours.

'I, eh, I'm Sihtric by the way,' he shyly smiled again and held his hand out to you.

'Hi,' you returned the shy smile as you took his hand and introduced yourself.

His tattooed fingers brushed over yours as he slowly let go, after holding on for just a second too long for it to be meaningless.

'So,' he smacked his lips, 'can I buy you that drink?'

'Perhaps,' you grinned, 'what's the catch?'

Sihtric furrowed his brow and puckered his lips.

'Hm,' he hummed softly as he went over his thoughts, 'the catch is that you'll have to tell me one thing you love about yourself, and one thing you hate about yourself.'

'Oh?' you chuckled, truly impressed this time that a guy for once didn't ask for a kiss or something like that, and you agreed to the deal.

Sihtric bought you a drink and followed you as you found an empty table in the busy venue bar.

'Well then,' Sihtric smiled and took a quick sip from his drink, 'tell me.'

'Okay,' you put your glass on the table and looked at Sihtric, 'I like-'

'No, no,' Sihtric interrupted you, 'I said love, not like. Tell me what you love about yourself.'

You chuckled and sighed softly as Sihtric rested his chin in the palm of his hand, leaning on the table while he sat across from you. The place was packed, but he looked at you as if you were the only person in the room.

'Fine,' you gave him a fake, mean glare, 'what I love about myself is… how loyal I am. Doesn't matter if it's friendships or relationships,' you said, 'I think it's a good trait.'

'It is a great trait,' Sihtric smiled while gazing at you again, 'hard to come by these days.'

'I guess,' you said shyly.

'But now the big question,' Sihtric said as he leaned back, raking his fingers through his hair, 'what do you hate about yourself?'

'Can I only mention one thing?' you grimaced, 'because I got quite the list-'

'Lady,' Sihtric hushed you and chuckled, 'one thing only.'

'Fine,' you huffed and crossed your arms, 'I hate my smile.'

'Your smile?' Sihtric nearly choked on his drink and punched his chest twice as he coughed, 'what are you talking about?'

'I just don't like my smile,' you shrugged, 'for no specific reason.'

'Well, look,' he held his hands up, 'I have to strongly disagree with you here, lady.'

'Okay,' you frowned, 'is this the moment you'll start the heavy flirting, praising me with compliments to lure me into your bed?'

'Actually,' Sihtric said with a grin, leaning in closer over the table, 'my place is a bit of a mess right now. So I kinda hoped I could lure myself into your bed.'

'And what's the catch if I were to agree to that?' you teased, leaning in too.

'The catch being,' Sihtric smiled softly, and he held your chin with his fingertips, 'that you have to promise me you will never believe those negative thoughts about yourself ever again. Because you notice how the thing you love about yourself has nothing to do with your appearance? And the one thing you hate…'

You stared at Sihtric, your cheeks flushed at his touch and his intense eyes locked on you. Then he sat back again, quickly finished his drink and jumped up.

'You want to get out of here?' he asked, smiling, and went to grab his skateboard.

Sihtric held your hand as you walked out of the venue, back to your place. It was pleasantly quiet out, the streets being empty as it was a sunday night. You had the day off tomorrow and the day after, so you had no plans of finding sleep early. The silence between you and Sihtric was a comfortable one, but you were curious about him, and even more curious about the skateboard he held in his other hand.

'You skateboard everywhere?'

'Most of the time, yeah,' he smiled.

'Really?'

'Yes, lady,' Sihtric chuckled, 'why? Do you?'

'No,' you snorted, 'never done it.'

Sihtric stopped walking and stared at you with a puzzled look.

'You never tried it?'

'No,' you shrugged, 'my balance is shit anyway-'

'Wanna try?'

'What?'

'Come,' Sihtric smiled, holding his hand out as he put his board on the ground, 'try it.'

'Oh, absolutely not,' you laughed and looked at the street ahead of you, 'I'll break my neck.'

'No you won't,' Sihtric laughed, 'come,' he beckoned you over.

With heavy feet you stepped closer to the pale, dark clothed man, and you took his hand. Sihtric chuckled when he helped you on the board, holding it in place by setting his leather boot in front of the wheels.

'No, no,' you giggled as you squeezed his hand, already feeling off balance, 'I'm scared to go off this hill.'

'Hill? You can't call this a hill. Don't be scared,' Sihtric smiled and circled his arm around your waist.

Then, he placed one foot on the board and pulled you closer against his body.

'Wait, what are you-'

'Shh,' he smiled, 'I got you.'

'No. What-'

'I promise I got you,' he chuckled at your surprised face, 'trust me. I won't let anything happen to you.'

Before you could say another word, Sihtric placed his other foot next to yours, and the skateboard slowly started to roll forwards, down the really not that steep street, but steep enough to make you cling onto him. And when you realised you truly weren't going to break your neck, you started to laugh at the quite exhilarating feeling. And Sihtric smiled at you whenever he wasn't looking down the road, and he swore he had never seen a more beautiful smile than yours.

'See,' Sihtric said when the skateboard came to a halt at the end of the street, 'told you nothing would happen to you.'

He helped you step off the board, back onto the concrete ground, where he immediately circled his arms around you again and pulled you in.

'I guess you were right,' you chuckled and looked up at him.

'I promise you're safe with me,' Sihtric whispered, 'always.'

He briefly brushed his lips lightly over yours, before he captured you in a soft, sweet kiss.

Sihtric hummed softly before he pulled away, lightheaded while his heart was beating out of his chest. And when he saw you smiled at him, he brought his lips back to yours again.

When you woke up in your own bed the next morning, a little sore, you felt yourself pout in silence when you noticed Sihtric was gone. It's not like you hadn't expected him to be anything more than a one night stand, so you weren't really surprised, but you had to admit you were a little disappointed. His flirting had been very effective, and he truly seemed different from any other guy you ever met, so you had some unfair expectation that he wouldn't just run off in the morning. But you also blamed yourself for it being a one night thing. You had not discussed your own intentions before you took him home. Or after you had moaned his name in the middle of the night, when he had his hand wrapped around your throat and his other cupping your cheek, while his forehead rested against yours and his low, heavy growl spilled down over your lips as your fingers were tangled in his messy hair.

You sat up and searched for your underwear in your bed, when suddenly your bathroom door, which was across from your bed, flung open and Sihtric walked out, shirtless, only dressed in those tight, leather jeans while his damp hair was raked back with his fingers.

'Jesus fucking christ!' you yelled and pulled the blankets up to cover your breasts.

Not that he hadn't seen those before. He had actually done way more than just seeing those, you thought, and you felt your face heat up.

'Fuck!' Sihtric hissed and grabbed his chest, looking equally as startled as you.

'You scared me!' you half yelled.

'Shit. Sorry, angel,' he chuckled, 'I hope you didn't mind I took a shower,' he said a little shyly.

'What? No, no,' you shook your head, 'that's fine. I just… I didn't expect you were still here.'

'Oh,' Sihtric said, and his confidence left his body in an instant, 'I- I'm sorry,' you could see the sudden hurt in his eyes before he looked down at his feet, 'I didn't realise that... I-I should've known this was just a one night stand,' he mumbled and walked over to grab his shirt from the floor, which you had taken off of him the night before, and he put it back on, 'I'm really sorry if I overstayed my welcome. I- I should head home now anyway, I have a meeting soon. So-'

'No,' you interrupted him, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… I… I thought it was just a, you know, a quick and random fuck for you,' you said with flushed cheeks.

'Ah,' he clicked his tongue, and anxiously rubbed his hand over his chin, 'I'm sorry if I made it come off that way. That was truly never my intention,' he cleared his throat, 'but, eh, yeah, you know, I better get going anyway. Gotta change my clothes and get some quick food…'

'Let me make you breakfast,' you blurted out as Sihtric picked up his leather boots, and he stared at you.

'What?' he chuckled, then smirked, 'you want to make me breakfast?'

'What's your favourite flower?' Sihtric asked, his mouth stuffed with cereal as he ate like a wild boar, not having much time.

'What? Oh, uh,' you chuckled, 'uh, roses. Cliché, I know,' you rolled your eyes.

'I like roses. Roses are pretty,' he said and swallowed his food, 'pretty like you,' he smiled before he hovered the rest of his cereal, then jumped up.

'You had enough to eat?' you asked, watching him grab his short, leather jacket.

'Not quite,' Sihtric chuckled, 'but I really gotta go, sweetheart. I can't be late,' he picked up his skateboard and hopped back over to you to kiss your cheek, 'thank you though.'

'You're welcome,' you smiled, and just when Sihtric turned away, you pulled him back in for a kiss on his lips.

Sihtric froze for a second and dropped his skateboard. He smiled against your lips and gently cupped your cheeks, kissing you back, soft and slow. After a moment, which was way too short, you broke the kiss, knowing he had to run. You smiled at him when he suddenly got all shy.

'So, eh,' Sihtric blushed, 'c-call me?' he asked, cautiously, 'will you call me later?'

'Y-yeah,' you felt yourself becoming shy too, 'what time suits you? After your meeting?'

'I should be back home after five,' he said and picked up his skateboard again.

You nodded with a smile and promised to call him as you walked him to your door. He gave you a sweet, slightly awkward peck to your lips and then you watched him skateboard smoothly down the road. And only when you closed the door, and Sihtric left your street in a hurry, you both realised you didn't have his number.

You hoped that, since Sihtric knew where you lived now, he would come find you after his meeting. But you also couldn't help worrying that maybe he would have forgotten about you by the end of the day. The thoughts drove you mad, and it was only four in the afternoon when suddenly your doorbell rang and you jumped up. Half wanting it to be Sihtric, half trying to ignore that hope, so you wouldn't get your silly little heart broken over a guy you only just met.

You opened the door and, to your confusion, you were greeted by a large package.

'Will you please sign?' a young lady asked, holding a clipboard out to you.

'Ehh, but I didn't order anything?' you more or less asked.

'Is this your name?' she asked, and you took a closer look at the label.

'It is, but-'

'Then please sign.'

You raised an eyebrow in offence, but you were curious now and wanted to know what was in the box, so you signed. The box wasn't that heavy, but it was annoyingly shaped, so you could barely pick it up. After your struggle to get back into your living room, you quickly opened the package, and you smiled a little confused.

Roses. The box held a mixed bouquet of one dozen red roses, and one dozen black roses. Then, your eyes spotted a little note hidden in the bouquet, and you folded it open.

My angel, sorry I had to rush this morning. In my haste I forgot to give you my number.

Here's a small thanks for the breakfast… and the great sex last night.

Call me? x

You couldn't fight your smile anymore and squealed when you found Sihtric's number on the back of the handwritten note. His flower delivery arrangement had caused him to be late to his meeting, but he couldn't let you slip out of his hands like that.

'I'm sorry I slipped out of your hands like that,' Sihtric sniffled as he held you tight, after he had scared you out of your mind by coming back from the dead.

After the first shock, he had carried you to bed, where he cuddled up with you, just like he used to before he died.

'I'm so sorry I left you just like that,' he whispered.

'I just don't understand,' you cried, 'how am I supposed to understand any of this? How… how are you here? How do I know I haven't gone completely fucking mental?'

'You haven't,' he said as he took your face, 'you haven't gone insane, I promise.'

'I just don't understand,' you barely whispered.

'I am here because my soul hasn't been able to rest since I died. Odin sent me back to make things right, so I can find my peace.'

'So… are you like… are you an angel?' you sniffled.

'No, love,' Sihtric chuckled and kissed your lips, 'I am too angry to be an angel.'

'I've missed you so much,' you sobbed and fell in his arms.

'I've missed you too,' Sihtric sighed, 'it's been so lonely without you, my love. But at least I could always see you.'

'What?' you leaned back and looked up at him, 'w-what do you mean?'

'The raven… at the window,' he whispered, 'he's my eyes and ears. And I… I see you cry every night, baby,' his voice broke, 'here, in our bed.'

He moved his hand slowly over the soft sheets you were both under.

'Please,' Sihtric whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, 'don't. Don't cry for me, angel. You have to stop that, please. It's tearing me apart to see you hurt like that, when I can't hold you in my arms or kiss your tears away.'

'But I don't know how to live without you,' you teared up again, 'I don't want to live without you.'

'Shh,' he hushed you and pecked your lips, while you both cried and trembled in each other's arms again, 'I'm here now, okay?'

'Please… you... you can't,' your breath hitched,' please, never leave me again, Siht.'

'You have to understand, my sweetest love,' Sihtric whispered and softly caressed your cheek, 'that all of this is temporary.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic

78 notes · View notes

jasonswh0rre · 1 month

Text

Birthday Wishes AK! Jason Todd x MC

🎊: Pairings: Jason Todd (Arkham Knight), MC (fem. Reader)

🎊: Tropes:

Romance

One-Shot

Birthday Surprise

🧁 Special Message 🧁

Happy Birthdays, Future Birthdays and Belated Birthdays! And a Hoppy Easter too 🐣

Summary:

On a morning that seems like any other yet uniquely special, it's your birthday! Waking up to the tantalizing smells of breakfast prepared by none other than your boyfriend Jason, you are treated to a visual and culinary feast. As Jason serves up not only a delicious breakfast but also some delightful morning affection, you can't help but be drawn into the moment, celebrating your special day with love, surprises, and the promise of more to come.

Author's Notes:

I wrote this story on my birthday! I hope this story brings a smile to your face and maybe even gives you ideas on how to make your loved ones birthday extra special. Thank you for reading, and enjoy the sweetness and surprises within!

It was a morning the same as the rest but unique for you. It was your birthday! The sun's rays brightened the room; you slept very peacefully for someone taking up most of the bed, arms sprawled out and legs dangling off the bed; the only thing together was the snugness of your bonnet tied across your hair. Oh, you were a natural sleeping beauty in that bed.

Nose taking a whiff of the newly scented air, your eyes were wide awake. As the smells had your senses under hypnosis, you left your bed sitting opposite the kitchen island, and you sat quietly watching your boyfriend cook.

"How do you want your coffee?" Jason asked, and as you pondered over your coffee preferences, you couldn't help but be captivated by the view before you. The muscles of his torso were on full display, moving rhythmically with each action he took. The muscles contracted and flexed with a fluid grace. It was a live exhibition of human anatomy in motion, each muscle group working in seamless coordination—his shoulders rolling, his spine flexing subtly with each reach, and the distinct lines of his muscles weaving across his back.

"MC?"

"A lot of creams and none of the sugar," you replied, your eyes still glossed over watching him; you may have forgotten bedroom talk is only in the bed

Moving over to hand you your plate, he set down a coffee for you, only with a little bit of cream but a whole lot of sweetness.

"Happy Birthday, MC," Jason congratulated; the smell of the coffee alone perked your spirits right up. Looking at your plate, you couldn't imagine Jason making this for you. He had been quite the chef, but this was next level: blueberry pancakes, each fluffier than the next with a buttermilk syrupy inside, deviled eggs that were just as devilishly good, and sausage.

"You didn't have to do this," you suggested, but as you as you ate, your stomach would say otherwise

"I wanted to, doll, so you're just gonna have to deal with it," Jason said, leaning forward and kissing you, gently and yet perfectly attached to your lips. You wouldn't have stopped before he pulled away.

As you finished your breakfast, you watched Jason get dressed, his holders strapped around his thighs, and he strapped his boots on.

Holding his jacket, you offered to put it on him; turning around, he made himself accessible for your help, rubbing his shoulders when you were finished putting his coat on.

"I'll see you tonight. I've got another surprise for you," Jason commented; he turned around, hand wrapped firmly around your waist as he pressed you up against his chest and planted a firm kiss on your lips.

Pressing a side button, his helmet shielded his face; putting his hood on, he opened your window and left.

#arkham knight #jason todd #arkham batman #red hood #jasonswh0rre #arkhamverse #fanfic #red hood x mc #red hood x reader #happy birthday #birthday wishes #birthday story

28 notes · View notes

apprenticestanheight · 7 months

Note

Hey can I request some fluff with the reader comforting Adam after the bathroom game? Like one of his nightmares wakes reader up and they fall back asleep cuddling and his face in the crook of readers neck. I’m really soft for hurt/comfort

Stories

Promise- A.S x gn! reader

Hi!! I'm totally a sucker for hurt/comfort too--it's been one of my favorite fic genres to write in since I started writing fic during the first quarantine! Thank you for sending this in, I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy!

Fic type- hurt/comfort

Warnings- Adam has PTSD, which, while not actually named, the symptoms of it are discussed and those symptoms are listed as follows: anxiety, avoidance in relation to the anxiety and also just avoidance in the general sense, nightmares. Blood is mentioned and weed is also talked about a bit (I headcanon Adam as a casual lover of the devils lettuce and that slipped its way through the cracks here)

Adam had escaped the bathroom trap six months before. Lawrence had been true to his word to call for help, and Adam had gotten out after a grand total of four days in the trap.

Lawrence had called the police and got in contact with you, who was worried because you'd scheduled a date for the night after the first day of his being missing, and Adam had skipped it without a word.

Thanks to yours and Lawrences putting the pressure on the police, the fact that Lawrence recognized the exterior of the building where the bathroom was and the buildings surrounding it, four days after he went missing and was placed in the trap Adam returned home.

Granted, he'd returned home with a bullet wound and intense pain in his shoulder from the bullet being left there too long, but he was grateful to be out of the bathroom at all.

Half a year had gone by. One hundred and eighty two days. One hundred and eighty two nights. He thought, well enough, he'd have gotten through it by then, but he hadn't.

He thought he would've gotten through it--the flashbacks that came up whenever he heard Jigsaws name in the news, the jittering anxiety, the memories that came up and the ones he refused to think about, the fact that he was easily startled and hated the idea of going to the hospital for the risk of seeing Lawrence, the relentlessness with which he avoided the part of town wherein the bathroom trap was located, the nightmares that he'd been dealing with in the aftermath--but he had not. One hundred and eighty two days and nights gone by, and he had not pushed past it like he'd once thought himself capable.

His nightmares and the aftermath of them when he woke up varied a lot--sometimes he woke up screaming that he wanted to live, that he was grateful for his life. Other nights, he woke up shaking and turned his head to feel a wet spot against his pillow and realized he'd been crying in his sleep. Sometimes he woke in a cold sweat, body shaking, his clothes almost drenched, tears cascading down his cheeks in a free fall.

Whenever he was spending the night at your place or you were at his, his reaction was different. He would have the nightmare, wake up, realize where he was and who he was with, and his heart and his mind would still.

He would reconcile that he was not in the bathroom, not gripping onto Lawrence like Lawrence would save his life while his hands were slick with his own blood, but that he was in his apartment or yours.

Jigsaw had moved on, Adam had stopped being a freelance photographer who willingly stalked and took photos of men and their affair partners to make the rent, and he didn't smoke enough for it to make him irredeemable in the eyes of the infamous killer--smokes had triggered his anxiety, so he only smoked those with nicotine whenever the cravings got too bad, and while he liked a bit of weed from time to time, he only smoked it when the anxiety got to be too much or he couldn't sleep.

He reconciled that he was safe, the burn in his shoulder had been because of the fact that they'd taken the bullet out and the pain was to be expected, and you were okay, too. Jigsaw was not going to hunt you down next and you were right there beside him, ready to embrace his awkward flirting with genuine laughter at a moments notice.

But that night was different. Adam had smoked two bowls to take the edge of a particularly anxious day off and to help him sleep, which they did, just not for as long as Adam and the bags that had developed beneath his eyes would've liked.

That nightmare was no different to all of the others--the help that Lawrence had called hadn't come, one of Jigsaws apprentices had come back around to finish the job off and had done so by drowning him in the murky bath water he'd woken up in, half conscious and unable to fight them off.

His bodily reaction to the nightmare was different, though. He woke with a loud, terrified scream and found that he was in a cold sweat, his shoulder burning like it had been set on fire.

"Adam," you whispered, voice groggy, pulling him closer to you. "Adam."

Adam sat up, taking a few deep breaths in and out to try to calm his nerves.

I'm at home, he thought. I'm in my own bed--my partner is right next to me, and I woke them up like a fucking dickhead. I'm not in the bathroom, I'm not with Lawrence, I made it out and everything is okay.

"Adam," you whispered again. "Adam, are you okay?"

Adam let himself fall back against the mattress, head hitting the pillow as he gave a nod.

"Mm," he hummed, giving into his desire to be close to you. "Just a nightmare, Y/N. Get them all the time."

"You're okay," you whispered, hugging him close as you could, too tired to care about the sweat. "Everything is fine. You're not in the trap anymore."

"I don't usually react that badly," he did, it was just that the reactions took place separately--the scream and the cold sweat never happened together. "Read a story about his newest vic. Think it spurred me on a little bit."

"I'd be scared, too," you whispered. "I know I can't relate, but--I understand the nightmares. What you went through is traumatic, and Jigsaw is a self righteous prick. What happened to you isn't your fault."

"I stalked a guy to make the rent," Adam whispered.

You shrugged as Adam buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he did so.

"People have done worse," you said. "You were in a tight spot, baby. Everyone gets themselves stuck in those eventually."

Adam hummed, pulling you as close as your body and his own could allow.

You started running a hand through the hair that'd grown out a little since he was taken, pressing a kiss against his shoulder as he hummed a bit.

"'M so in love with you," he whispered against your neck. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. Thank you for helping me through this."

"Love you too," you whispered. "I love you so much. I'm always gonna be here when you need me, Adam. Promise."

Adam hummed, falling asleep as you carded your hands through his hair. You fell asleep not long after he did, the warmth of his hands on your back and the sound of New Jersey as it woke up and started the day lulling you into it.

#adam stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #saw #saw 2004 #saw franchise

129 notes · View notes

jelonkan · 2 years

Text

Devil's Tailor

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader was one of the best tailors in her lifetime. She gained this talent through a pact with the devil, and when she ended up in Hell after her death, she continued to use her skills. She sewed for the ruler of Hell.

Author Note: It's just a short thing that came to my mind lately. Lot of fluff. Enjoy!

You nervously tightened your fingers on the sketchbook, shifting from foot to foot. The dress you had patched many times shuffled on the littered floor, and the frightened gaze stared at the tall figure in front of you. Here they were. Lucifer, King of Hell, the Devil and Satan. But they didn't look like a red man with horns and a tail. No, they were beautiful. Incredibly beautiful, as Michelangelo's most beautiful sculpture, or even not. No man-made art could match the beauty they portrayed.

"I don't understand" you finally gasped, swallowing hard and trying with all your strength not to drop the book. They were so tall that you had to look up to meet their electric blue eyes. Their huge black wings folded gracefully.

"You have talent, Y/N" they explained in a calm tone, folding their hands in front of them and giving you a small smirk. "Unfortunately, talent is not enough to exist in this world."

"So please tell me. What do I have to do to exist in this world? To gain fame and fortune? Why my talent is not enough?" You asked questions, felt less panicked around them, and felt more curious. You've always been curious and wanted answers to your questions at all costs. Such desperation in you made the smile on Lucifer's lips widen.

"You see, the thing about talents is that a lot of people have them." they replied, slowly approaching you. You had to refrain from stepping back, but you wouldn't have gone far with the wall behind you anyway. "But to get what you want so badly you need a little help. I'll give you a gift. You will be the best tailor for the rest of your life." Lucifer declared temptingly.

"It sounds beautiful, but what is the price for it? I know there is always a price for these things" you asked, remembering all the stories about making contracts. Nothing ever came for free.

"Yes, there is the price, sweet one" they said with chuckle. You felt your cheeks blush at their description of you. "When you die, you will go to Hell and your gift will be taken back. You will have to deal with it yourself, and we will check if you really have talent not only for sewing, but also for survival." Their hand ran lightly over your cheek, and you held your breath at the pleasant sensation it caused. Well, then you did not think about the consequences they revealed to you and you thought much more about all the riches they offered. This life has not been kind for you, and Lucifer's help to change it was too tempting.

"Then we make deal? Pact?" you mumbled quickly, feeling the urge to have all these gifts taking over you. You knew you were greedy, but you were also sure that this opportunity would never happen again.

"Indeed." they nodded, still calm unlike you.

"Do you need my blood? I mean ... I heard that ... I..." you get caught up in words and stress. How could you suggest something so stupid? But Lucifer only smiled, amused by your nerves. It was pretty cute. Which they would never say out loud, at least not then.

"It won't be necessary." they announced, putting their hand on your cheek. You felt your face flush again and your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from their beautiful blue irises. " A simple handshake is enough for you."

Without a word, they took a few steps away from you, which you accepted with dissatisfaction, and extended their slender hand towards you. Have you wondered? No, you didn't hesitate even for a moment. You shook their hand confidently, which made them smile with a satisfied smile that made you feel a little uncomfortable. It all only took a few seconds, but Lucifer's touch was so pleasant to you that it seemed to slow down time.

"Has anything changed?" you asked looking around you. You glanced down at your hands, but they were the same too, except for the memory of Lucifer's touch. "I don't feel anything special." you added, looking back at Lucifer.

"Touch the fabric, needle or thread and you will feel the difference." they explained. Under their gaze you walked over to the table where various sewing materials were spread out. The first thing your hand touched was a pleasant green velvet fabric. You inhaled sharply, feeling the warmth coming from it. You barely refrained from starting a project that suddenly popped into your head. "Can you feel it?" Lucifer asked, and you suddenly felt their close presence behind you. Their chest was touching your back. You felt the warmth coming from them almost the same as when you touched the material.

"Yes." you swallowed nervously at their proximity. Their breath caressed your neck, making you goose bumps. "How it's possible?" you dared to turn around.

But Lucifer did not answer you. They disappeared just as they came here. Unexpectedly and in flames. Leaving you alone to know your gift and finally exist in the world.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After a life of promised fame and fortune, you landed in Hell. Deprived of Lucifer's gift, you were on your own.

It wasn't easy for you at first to climb the ranks in Hell, but Lucifer must have forgotten one thing when they thought about taking their gift from you. Maybe your mind didn't remember how to do it, but your body did. Accustomed to all the tricks it could do, it learned it, and despite taking the gift, you were still able to sew some wonderful clothes you were known for in your lifetime. So you did what you could do best. You sewed. Surprisingly, sewing for demons was almost the same as sewing for humans. First you sewed for ordinary demons, then for those of higher rank, until finally you were noticed again by them.

"Hello, Y/N." they spoke behind you, their presence unmistakable with any other. You smiled under your breath without turning to face them and still bending over the unfolded red material you were just cutting.

"Greetings, Your Majesty." you replied.

"Why so formal?" They asked, being right behind you and bending down to brush their lips against your ear. You needed all your strength not to turn to them. You would know that you would be defeated by them in this little game.

"Maybe I know you love it when I call you that?" you muttered smiling lazily and with a quick movement cutting the material to the end. It was accompanied by the familiar hiss of tearing seams that was like beautiful music to you.

"Mm... I see. " You felt them brushing your hair back from your neck and kissing you gently, making you feel pleasant chills at the gesture. "Is there any reason why you are doing this?" they whispered into your skin. Slowly sliding their hands over your body.

"I just like seeing that smirk on your lips when I call you that." you responded by allowing yourself to look at them. And you actually did see that smirk on their lips. It made you feel warm inside.

"Clever tailor." they muttered teasingly, allowing themselves to comfortably rest their chin on your shoulder. They did it often, and even more often left red marks on it, which told others very well that you belonged only to the Ruler of Darkness. When they left you in Hell, they thought you couldn't handle it. That you would end up like many like you, that you would only be good with their gift, and talent would be nothing. They forgot about you, thinking you must have become a slave, or worse. They were surprised some time later, when they saw you dressed in shiny new clothes, accompanied by one of the higher demons, during one of the meetings. This demon also seemed to dress much better, which made Lucifer put together the facts. You were still a tailor and you worked for him. And despite taking the gift, you still did well.

They may have underestimated you, but they were not going to give you hope that you are just as good without their's help. They were going to find out for themselves. They wanted you to start sewing for them, and they would be ready to do anything to prove to you that you cannot do it without their help.

But they failed. Or maybe they started to feel more anxious about it when their mask began to fade strangely with you. You started to interest them more and more, and they liked your creations and your presence around them, much to their own dissatisfaction. They didn't control it and at some point they just stopped.

"I know, without it, I would have finished badly a long time ago and there would be no one to sew for you." you snorted with amusement, then began marking points on the material for the next cut.

"Very tragic." Lucifer rolled their eyes at your answer. "Well, I'd find someone else to replace you." they added and watched with quiet satisfaction as you react to their words.

"Do you?" you asked raising your eyebrows. Why were you surprised? The answer was obvious, you weren't the only ones eager for this place. Hell has had a surprisingly large number of interesting talent holders. But for you, they were just competition.

"Probably. But I don't think anyone can replace you in this." they said, then bent to press their lips against yours. You deepened the kiss with a smug groan that made their fingers dig into your hips. You knew that with Lucifer it was difficult to control your emotions, so in order not to end your work prematurely, you broke the kiss.

"Why so nice?"you asked, panting slightly against their reddened lips. Yours probably looked like that too, and you were sure that your lipstick was smudged.

"I just like seeing that blush on your cheeks." they replied, and you felt the warmth on your cheeks as if on cue. "Here it is, my sweet one." They ran a finger down your flushed skin. You could stare into their beautiful eyes for years, for eternity, but the love for your work turned out to be stronger this time.

"All right, Lord Tenderness." you quickly disentangled yourself from their grip to circle the large table and find yourself on the safer side so you wouldn't get dragged back into their next frolics. "I still have a job to do. This robe does not sew by itself." when you said it, you pointed to a red robe spread over a mannequin. Maybe it didn't look good yet, but you already saw in your head how good Lucifer looked in this.

"So dedicated to her art, Y/N." they purred, shaking their heads with a smile. Before you knew it, they were in front of you, pinning you to the table. "When you're done, I think you might need a little rest. And I'll take care of you myself."they whispered in your ear, their wings moved slightly as you kind of innocently ran your hand over them.

"Yes, yes." you nodded, still gently stroking their wings and seeing the reaction it had on them. You knew that was their weak point. "But only when I'm finished." This time it was you who whispered to them and then managed to pull away from them. They have taught you so many tricks that you have turned against them many times. How ironic. "You started by making a pact with me, now let me use my skills and pay you back a little." you added, grabbing the scissors and a set of threads, which unfortunately did not warm your skin like in your lifetime, but the mere feeling of having them in your hands was enough. Holding Ruler of Hell in your arms was so much nicer, so you were able to get over this loss... somehow.

Lucifer didn't speak any more, just smiled and let you help them take off their clothes. Then put them in a red robe and let you work with your art.

Despite everything. You became the devil's tailor. And you loved every part of it.

#gwendoline christie #the sandman lucifer morningstar #the sandman lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #sandman netflix #reader #female reader

603 notes · View notes

everlastlady · 8 months

Note

What would Striker think of a reader who has a beautiful voice? The reader is a singer and she often gives performances in wrath playing the guitar.

In the end, the reader confesses her feelings, dedicating a romantic serenade to Striker. I think they could make a nice duo together.

- Crystal ✨️

What a lovely idea💡 hopeful this came out beautiful!

Serenade: Striker X Fem Imp Reader

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

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, & powerfully overlords. Here is another request this story and want more or even more stories. Please consider liking, comment, or reblogging. Check out my account for other Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss stories. Remember to always support your local fan fiction creators. Also remember to eat, drink water, and take your medicine.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2205.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Jesse, Asmodeus, & Striker.

ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴛғᴏʀᴍs

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟᴜᴠᴀ ʙᴏss ʙʏ ᴠɪᴠᴢɪᴇᴘᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ.

You always had it hard in Hell, when you were facing the harsh life of Hell with being an Imp. Then you were dealing with your family and you didn’t have a healthy relationship with your family, no one in that family had a healthy relationship with each other. There was always lots of yelling, throwing things, and threats. You still loved your family and cared about them but you couldn’t be around all the shit that was happening, especially when your parents would mock your dreams. Telling you that you won’t be a performer that it’s a stupid dream to have and you won’t get anywhere in life with that career. But a part of you knew they only said those things because their dreams failed. So when you turned eighteen, you left your home for good with your parents yelling at you saying that you’ll never make it out there in Wrath and don’t come crawling back home. You ended up staying with a friend named Jesse who let you stay in the guestroom in his apartment. You got a job at a coffee shop but still tried your best at the career you wanted and good thing Jesse worked at a place called Ozzie’s , so he was able to get you a night up on the stage. And when you took that stage you blew everyone away even the demon prince himself Asmodeus was impressed, so impressed that he wanted you to sign a contract with him it wasn’t anything shady so you signed it, and from there it was just beginning. With the money you made for performances and getting booked at parties, restaurants, and shows. You made a lot of money that you got your own place, you didn’t forget about Jesse so you did pay him back and not only with money but he was always by your side when you went on trips and the trip you were taking him on for a week was in Wrath. You were going to perform for a few days at a famous bar and you were kinda nervous to go. “ Hey, you’ll be fine if we run into your parents then I have your back. “ Jesse gave your hand a squeeze and smiled.

The incubus imp really knew how to make you smile, you gave a nod and laid your head on his shoulder. The two of you arrived in Wrath and got settled in a nice hotel room. You were deciding on what to wear for your performance. So many outfits laid out on the bed and Jesse was sitting down tuning your guitar for you. “ Go with that one, it will make you look like a beautiful devil on stage. “ Jesse’s tail pointed to the outfit that stood out from the rest. “ Thanks Jess. “ You picked up the outfit and walked into the bathroom. You took a shower and washed yourself up, smelling great, you dried off and slipped into the outfit. Jesse did your make-up and hair for you, the two of you took a picture to upload on Voxtagram. You left the hotel with Jesse, the two of you stepped into the bar from backstage, your dressing room was beautiful, Jesse went straight for the snack table. “ The food and snacks in Wrath are the best right next to the Glutontty ring.” Jesse tossed a piece of candy into his mouth and sat back on the black leather couch. “ Yeah, I remember how I would have to eat dinner or lunch at my neighbor’s house. “ You let out a sorrowful chuckle. “ Don’t think about your parents this is your night, you got this now go make some magic on that stage. “ Jesse pats your back. You turned around and gave him a hug. “ Thank you Jess. “ The two of you hugged for a while and you pulled away. You could hear the host talking and making jokes on the stage, but then he introduced you and that’s when you walked out on stage and began to sing. The audience was quiet as they listened to you sing, some talking about how lovely your voice was and how lovely you looked. A certain hybrid imp sat at the bar with a drink in his hand as he listened to you sing. “ Lovely~ “ He took a sip of his drink and continued to listen to you sing. The light that shine down on you made you look like an angel in Hell, Striker was the hybrid imp’s name and he usually never paid attention to the entertainment on stage but you had his full attention, something made his stomach twirl in a good way in a way that made him never want this feeling to stop. You made a wave of warmth wash over him, a loving sigh escaped his lips. “ So lovely ~ “ He felt like he was being hypnotized by your voice. Once you finished you took a bow but when you opened your eyes. They were locked with Striker’s yellow eyes, his large smile made your heart beat fast that it felt like everything and everyone around you was in slow motion.

You stood straight up and quickly walked off stage. “ You did great! “ Jesse said but he saw how you were looking so clouded and flustered. “ You okay? Were the lights too bright, damn I knew we should have eaten dinner before you went on stage. “ Jesse sighed. “ No, I'm good, just someone in the audience.” You rub the back of your neck. “ Is there another creep in the audience, I could take care of them or get security. “ Jesse held your hands, but you chuckled and shook your head. “ No, it’s fine, he’s actually kind of cute and before you give me a whole speech, I’ll be safe and won’t get close besides I’m sure that I’m not his type he was probably smiling like everyone else because of my performance. “ You walked towards your dressing room and decided to relax for a bit since you had another song to do soon. Jesse decided to head to the bar for a drink, so you sat back on the couch and decided to eat from the snack table. The gentle knocks on the door snapped your attention away from the snack you were eating, you stood up and walked over to the door when you the door the hybrid imp from the bar earlier was standing right in front of you in his western attire which common in the Wrath ring, this man smelled like gunpowder and cinnamon, the smell made you feel intoxicated. “ That was quite a performance, darlin’. “ His smooth western accent made you blush, his voice was smooth like honey glazing over a sweet treat and that smirk spoke of danger but also had a friendly approach, his tail rattled a bit as it swayed. “ Thank you. “ You let out a nervous chuckle and looked at him and wondered how he got backstage. “ Are you from around here or one of those performers that just go ring to ring singing little songs. “ He stared down at you, for an imp he was taller than you. “ I’m actually from Wrath but moved to the Lust ring when I was eighteen, and here I am back in Wrath to perform. I’m glad you enjoyed my performance. Do you usually come here? “ You asked and stepped aside to let him come into your dressing room. “ This place has the best drinks in Wrath so I come here after a day of hard work. “ He said while walking in and looking around. “ Well hard working man, do you have a name? “ You sat down on the couch. “ It’s Striker, and from the host said, I’m going to guess your name is (Y/N) but darlin’ sounds better, you don’t mind if I continue to call you darlin’ ? “ He asked, sitting down on the couch next to you. You smiled and looked at him trying to hide your blush. “ I don’t mind, so Striker what do you do for work? “ You opened a water bottle and took a sip. “ Farm work. “ He smirked, but he did more than farm work but he wouldn’t tell you what other things he did, he didn’t want to scare you away.

“ I grew up on a farm, though my parents didn’t really take good care of it so I did all the work, it was kinda exhausting. “ You sighed. “ Farm will do that to you but you get a lot of experience and strength from it. “ Striker looked at you and saw that frown on that face he found so beautiful. “ I’m guessing that those parents who didn’t take care of the farm weren’t good parents. “ He said. You were going to answer but the knock at the door interrupted the conversation. “ Ready to take the stage miss (Y/N) “ The stage manager said. You stood up and fixed your dress and looked at Striker, with a smile you wanted to continue this conversation. “ Me and a friend are grabbing dinner after this. Do you wanna join us? I'm really enjoying your company. “ You hope he will say yes. “ Of course, I’ll join you both. Thanks for the invite, I’ll be seeing you on stage. “ Striker shot you a wink and walked out the dressing room. You smiled and wanted to keep talking but you had one more song to do and then you could have dinner with him, hopefully Jesse won’t mind that Striker would be joining the two of you. You looked in the mirror and nod to yourself, stepping out of the room you took the stage again but this time Striker was sitting at a table in the front and watched you so you decided to serenade him, a while back you had worked on a love song so you decided to play it and hopefully charm him. You began singing on stage and playing your guitar, Striker seemed so impressed by the way you handled the guitar and hearing that song while seeing you eye him. Striker watched as you stepped off stage while singing and playing the guitar, the people knew not to touch you not wanting to get kicked out or even kicked in the face. You walked towards Striker and stood in front of him while playing your guitar. Some people gave jealous stares wishing that they were in his seat. After you finish, you shoot Striker a smirk and walk away vanishing backstage. You were glad that you only had to do two songs for a week and maybe for these two weeks you can grow close with Striker. When heading back to your dressing room, Striker was already standing there damn he was quick.

“ I’m guessing you enjoyed the performance? “ You chuckled and opened the door to your dressing room and walked inside with Striker. “ I did, best damn show I’ve seen. Usually the entertainment is boring but you really know how to grab my attention darlin’~ “ Striker placed a finger underneath your chin and his face in front of yours. “ I’m curious, were you trying to serenade me? Little song bird because if so it worked~ “ Striker leaned in and kissed you, he tasted like gin and he was gentle when kissing you. You melted right into the kiss. His hands rested on your lips as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. You stood on your tippy toes and placed your hands on his shoulders and tongues exploring each other’s mouth . Striker’s tail rattling filled the room. Your phone buzzed and you pulled away while breathing heavily, you looked at your phone as if it was a text from Jesse who told you that he won’t be able to grab dinner with you tonight since he had met someone but he would make it up to you. You looked at Striker who smirked at you, turning around you texted Jesse that it was fine and that you were tired. You tossed your phone on the couch and looked at Striker. “ My friend won’t be able to join me for dinner, so do you know any good places to dine? “ You asked with a smile. “ I know the best restaurant, it’s not fancy like the restaurants that you go to, probably a superstar. “ Striker chuckled. With a smirk you roll your eyes. “ Striker, I may be a superstar but not all of us always eat at fancy restaurants. “ You didn’t really even like fancy restaurants. The only time you went was with your boss Asmodeus who just wanted you to go because of business deals, meetings, or public appearances. “ Well then I hope that you don’t mind that I take you to the best restaurant in Wrath. “ He watched as you grabbed your phone and turned around. “ For someone who isn’t into fancy places you sure were at this bar tonight. “ Striker smirked. “ Like I said, this place has the best drink. “ And his target was here and killed the bastard in the guy's office. “ Ready to get out of here? “ He offered his hand. You smiled and took his hand and the two of you left the dressing room.

54 notes · View notes

sugarpea12345 · 5 months

Text

Cinderella (JJK x Reader)

Just a small blurb! Some features are inspired by a story on Quotev! There are some components to the blurb that not everyone may be comfortable with. Please read tags carefully! Im not a writer, so I have no intention to write a story on this. If any one wants to, though, I'll definitely appreciate a link! lol

also not edited so please forgive any misspellings

Tags: mentions of abuse, mentions of negligence, mentions of death, bullying, step-brother stuff I guess, mentions of devil (?), fem reader

IMAGINE

You were the daughter to a marquess and marchioness. This afforded you a life of luxury but not the highest standing either, keeping you humble.

Unfortunately, your father dies under suspicious circumstances and your mother quickly remarries. Your kind nature sympathizes with her decision even if you don’t agree with it.

You do your best to be accommodating and kind to the man, but he’s cold and indifferent to you. You meet his two sons in the wedding.

Toji and Naoya are mean. They bully and tease you. Often pulling at your hair or pushing you down. You would beg to sleep with your mom; cling to her throughout the day. As long as she was around, they wouldn’t tease you.

Until she wasn’t around anymore either. Contracting a mysterious disease, your mother withered away and within a week, she passed away.

As the last (L/N) member, you have inherited every asset. For this reason, the Zenin patriarch keeps you around. Yet, he punishes your existence by stripping you of every luxury you had. All your dresses and accessories sold or burned. You were kicked out of your room and forced into the servant’s quarters. Speaking of the servants they were all fired. Everyone of their duties reassigned to you.

Toji and Naoya were ruthless in your teenage years. Their bullying becoming more violent and humiliating. You were more rebellious at this age, and so multiple scuffles ensued. Fortunately, once they were in their early 20’s they had become more subdued. They still bullied and overworked you, but it was a lot easier now.

It was around this time that Prince Satoru begun to face pressure to marry. His father would only step down as king when Satoru had proved himself as reliable and responsible adult. And one of the ways he expected him to do this was to marry.

Deciding to host a ball, he invited every noble family. It was to be a three day celebration, to give Satoru ample time to connect with the people whilst finding a partner.

Receiving the invitation, Naobito demanded that both his son’s attend. He forced you to go into the city to pick up their suits and masquerade masks.

Heading into the city, you see the city’s outcast. Born with piercing red eyes and strange markings on his skin, he was ostracized. It was said that his mother had made a deal with the devil, hence her firstborn looking like one. He was verbally abused and neglected by the people, so when he could, he escaped into the forest. No one knows what he does there. He leaves the forest only in the rare occurrence that he needs something from the village.

He is welcomed with shut doors and silence. Most of the people hide, and those who stay open refuse to sell to him. Wearing a ratty and old cloak, he walked slowly into the now quiet city.

Seeing him, you mustered up what little personal money you had and bought him a new cloak. With the remaining money, you purchased some apples and oranges. Placing them in your own basket, you handed it to him.

Silently, he took it and left the city. You waved at him, before going in with the seamstress. As you put in the order, you had to around for it to be ready. You were planning on using your money to buy a sweet, but now that you had none, you didn’t know what to do.

As you idly walked around the bakery, you bumped into someone. He’s tall with long black hair. You profusely apologize, blushing at how handsome he is. He laughs at your attitude, letting you know that it was ok. Patting your head, he can’t help but stare deeply into your own eyes. This, obviously made you blush even more.

Chuckling, he invites you to the bakery. Red in the face, you shake your head profusely, letting him know that you had no money. You run away before he could respond.

Hiding in an alley, you look back at the memory and cringe. How could you act like that?! You acted like you have never seen a man! Holding your head in your hands, you slide down the wall and marinate in your embarrassment.

You were so engrossed in your emotions, that you didn’t notice him approach you with a small pastry in hand. In his other hand was another, bigger bag for pastries. Sitting next to you, you both share the one pastry and have a lovely conversation.

Soon enough, you both go you own ways. You pick up the suits and the masks and head back home.

When the night of the first ball came, you excitedly headed to the foyer, wearing your own homemade dress. Made from scraps of fabric and reused older clothes, you managed to make a decent dress. Toji couldn’t help but frown at the thought of other men seeing you

You were undoubtedly a pretty girl. Besides some scars from rough housing with Toji and Naoya, you were perfect. A part of him always liked you. You were kind, compassionate, and outgoing. And as you matured, you flourished into a kinder and prettier woman. Maybe that’s why he liked bullying you so much. He knew that any man with eyes would like to court you, and as your stepbrother he knew he could never cross that line. So instead, he opted to make you undesirable. Yet, seeing you in a ‘new’ dress, all dolled up, made him realize there was no way to make you undesirable.

Naobito, though, was enraged. Grabbing your arm, he roughly pulled you to the abandoned tower. Throwing you into the room, he grabbed at your dress, the seams coming apart easily. Forbidding you to leave, he locked the door and left you there crying.

Seeing the carriage leave, you sat in the darkest corner of the room. You sat with your knees pressed to your chest. You nearly cried yourself to sleep. Drifting off, you are rudely awaken by the window blowing open. In its wake, was the outcast. The man with red eyes.

Startled by his appearance, you get up. He calms you, letting you know that for you kindness, he would pay you back. After years of solitude, you were the first to help him unprompted. He hates owing people favors, so he was here to repay you. Transforming your dress into an elegant silver dress that sparkled in the moonlight. To top it off, your shoes transformed into glass heels. You thanked him profusely, hugging him tightly.

Unlocking the door and spawning a golden carriage, you headed to the ball. Before you left, he warned you of your time limit. You had one goal, meet the dark-haired stranger again. You didn’t know how he felt for you, but you like this was the love of your life. You had fallen fast and hard for him. You didn’t mind if he doesn’t love you, you just wanted to see him one more time

As you get to the ball, your one goal is the find him. Yet, you were immediately distracted by the food. It had been years since you were able to dine like this. As you picked at the food, you enter a scuffle with a stranger. Like everyone else, he was wearing a mask, so you had no way to identify him. You two argued slightly over a strawberry pastry, before the final song of the night began to play.

Leaving him behind, you head to the center of the ball room, with the stranger right on your heels. Grabbing his arm, you two danced. While you hadn’t been to a proper ball in years, you once were trained. You were clumsy, but not necessarily lost.

Also, it was easy to ignore your occasional mistakes as your smile and laugh enraptured the whole room. Namely, your dance partner particularly couldn’t look away. You were so carefree and passionate, something he had lacked for years. Holding on to your waist tighter, her pulled you in closer. Just as he neared his face closer to yours, the clock rang.

Abruptly, you pulled yourself away from him. He looked at you stunned and even hurt. Before he could pull you back, though, you began to run away.

As you made your way past the people and towards the entrance, you stumbled into the dark-haired man. Despite the mask, it was easy for you to recognize him. At his side stood an ethereal white-haired woman. Holding onto his elbow, they both looked stunning. This must be his betrothed or something. Hurt at the revelation, you pushed past them.

Getou fought the urge to chase after you. It was clear that you were upset and it pained him to see you like that. He also felt drawn to you after your meeting. He had hoped to see you here. Unfortunately, he had been pressured to attend with Mei Mei. Choosing to remain civil, he continued into the ball.

You made it to the carriage in time. While the evening was amazing, you struggled to smile. You were thankful for the experience, but you were also just as thankful that it was over. Come morning, and you would return to being the maid at the (Y/N) household. It would all go back to normal.

Or so you thought. Unfortunately for you, keen blue eyes of Toji had recognized you and watched you all night.

#jjk x reader #jjk #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #x reader #imagine #fem reader

31 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 2 months

Note

Sending some questions rom the fic meme, 20, 21 and/or 25 about Palmarosa? Ty

20. What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

The tag that says: this is NOT canon compliant. The author's note that says this is isn't canon compliant and adds: "D&D purists enter at your peril." It's always always that I wish the purists would notice that the story is not and is not pretending to be canon compliant.

That. I wish more people noticed that about the fic. The folks who go into FR lore and go 'I bet the author's doing this' and it's like 'I've never heard of that.' Or the folks who are like 'Mephistopheles should be red' and it's like well he has a canonical blue counterpart and also I don't care.

And secondly it's like, I feel like folks set themselves up for disappointment if they miss the tags. I've only ever played one campaign of D&D and it didn't touch Avernus. All I know about vampire spawn and devils comes from BG3 and patchily maintained Wikis. And while I have done a lot of research, I think anyone could say pretty clearly that you can spend a lot of time doing research and still not know a very great deal indeed if you've only ever had limited experience in the world and haven't paid for the canonical materials.

Like I cannot tell you how many people go 'I bet you're doing this because of (X lore I've literally never even heard of)' and it's like anon, I don't even know how to read, I don't go here, blease I beg of you, notice the tags/author's notes.

Folks who expect little cool tricks based off hidden lore in Forbidden Realms canon are going to be extremely disappointed if that's something they're invested in. Like, no. This is a character-driven story where I'm making stuff up that suits the story and the characters. Some stuff is taken from lore, some stuff is invented lore, it's 'whatever works.'

21. What is something you didn't expect people to notice or gravitate towards in this fic?

I didn't actually expect so many people to gravitate towards thinking that Raphael is always jealous when he's punishing or hurting Astarion. That was kind of odd to me, because I don't really think that's how his mind works.

Like I do think he's possessive, but that to me is different. And I think he's possessive because he's Lawful Evil and has a contract with Astarion, so anyone who acts as though they have power over Astarion and the contract, is therefore acting as though they have power over Raphael, which makes him furious. And I do sort of see how people turn that into 'oh he's jealous because Astarion is his' but it's like well, no, it's not really about Astarion as a person at all. It's about the principle of the contract and the threat to his seat of power which is - as we've seen - a threat to his life.

Likewise, he doesn't hurt Astarion or whip Astarion because he's jealous or for any kind of 'relationship' reason, but because he's been lacking in souls, he's weaker than he used to be, he's used to feeding a much broader sadistic appetite, and Astarion was weak and Astarion was there and I suspect he knew and found it very appealing that Astarion would feel betrayed after he'd done a good job and he thought that would lead to better sadistic satisfaction than tormenting someone like Fhaeleb (and he'd be right, as I said in my author's notes, Astarion suffers very prettily).

I guess I'm always kind of surprised how many people folks try to (in retrospect very understandably) attribute predictable human motives to Raphael's actions. Some of his actions are predictable, especially in the context of him being a sadist. But what I find the most fun about writing him, is that his motives are different by and large to many of us.

His core focus is always attaining more power and more souls, and also feeding via sadism, and he will do other things! We know he enjoys other things in life that seem a lot more 'human' and have very little to do with directly attaining power or torturing people, but I also think he's living his best life when he's kind of doing all of it at the same time, lmao, like watching a pornographic play while debauching Astarion, who is both into it and not into it, which creates a low-key delicious anguish that I think Raphael is very into, on the way to getting even more things that he wants, lol.

He's not falling in love with Astarion, although I do also - on the flipside - think he's a bit more human than some people think he is (since killed and resurrected - I've said he's lost his pit fiend form which means now he really is 50% human again), but that'll be talked about in the next chapter.

But it is really interesting watching people kind of like... try and find ways that Raphael works that aligns with what they know of people they've met. And while there is logic to his actions, it's not 'I'm attracted to Astarion so I'm jealous of anyone else touching him' logic. Possession can look a lot like jealousy, but to me they're two different things!

(It's very interesting watching folks either ascribe wholly human motives to all his actions or alternatively, wholly evil and manipulative motives to all his actions, in a very black and white kind of way. I think we see enough of him in the canon to realise that it's not that simple, for a start he's definitely got his own internal ethical compass, and he's also a horrendously sadistic torturer - enough that it goes against canon to have him not be worse to Astarion, which is where the fic is actually most not canon complaint tbh, and I killed him and resurrected him into a weaker form to justify that lmao - and he's just... Imho, to me he resists 'he's doing this' quantification in that he's doing about 10 different things, and some of those things contradict each other, because he's going through a rough time right now. So anyone who's like 'he's doing this one thing' is like... I mean maybe, but he's got these 9 other things going on. But sometimes he's also just not doing that thing at all. Like Raphael is not jealous of Temter, but he certainly finds Temter and amusing sore spot to keep pressing on to make Astarion twist on the hook).

25. Is there anything you would change now about this fic? Why or why not?

Oh definitely not. So far it's going how I'm wanting it to go (considering it has no plan!) :D Idk I'm enjoying writing it, and I don't like to go back and change things once I've committed to them, so it's rare that I actually even consider thoughts like that? I'm not that kind of writer where I go back and think like 'oh I should have done this' or 'I should have done that.'

I'm writing a serial, if there's stuff I think I should have done, I can usually find a way to introduce it later

From this meme!

#asks and answers #palmarosa #thespectaclesofthor #i've seen some really really cool comments #and tbh even the folks who think he's jealous #offer the most interesting comments #it's just really really fascinating to see how people kind of touch in with Raphael #and try and understand him #because it actually feels a LOT like how Astarion is also constantly #trying to figure out Raphael #and in a way i think Raphael would enjoy very much #the conflict he stirs up in others #as they try and figure him out

21 notes · View notes

lostfirefly · 3 months

Text

Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine (Ch.1)

This fanfiction story is my present for my friend @yujo-nishimura, whose birthday is today! Sending hugs from Russia and wish you a lot of Crocolove!

Two things inspired me to write this fic: One of my fav songs from which the title is taken and Elena and Damon's dance (from The Vampire Diaries, S1). My 1st attempt to write the story about this character.

Description: Yujo is a young girl whom her father has betrothed to Mr. 3. She and her sister come to the ball, where she meets one of the members of the Cross Guild Corporation Sir Crocodile.

Warnings: No warnings

Words: 1307

Sir Crocodile x OC

The title is taken from "Dance with the Devil" by Breaking Benjamin.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"I can't believe we're going to the castle ball tonight!" A blonde girl with curly hair and brown eyes was bouncing happily on the bed.

"Helena, calm down," another girl with green eyes sitting by the dressing table answered her in a calm voice. She brushed her brown hair, occasionally glancing in the mirror.

"I'm so impatient. We're going to see your fiancé, Mr. 3 again, Yujo! He's so cute!" Helena jumped off the bed, spinning around the bedroom. Her light white dress in small florals fluttered beautifully in the air.

"I don't know. He doesn't seem like a bad person. Writes nice letters and courts quite non-trivially.", Yujo put her hairbrush down on the table, slowly stood up and walked over to the closet. "Stop spinning around, Helena. Our parents are expecting us for breakfast."

The day passed in preparation for the trip to the ball. After breakfast, Helena and Yujo strolled around the large summer garden and talked about many things. Helena could hardly contain her excitement for the evening, dreaming that she would be able to meet a wealthy young man at the ball.

"And I also heard that either all the members from Cross Guild Corporation are expected to attend, or at least just one. They're some kind of tycoons. I bet they're all handsome and young."

"I've never heard of them." replied Yujo calmly, gently running her hands along the branches of the trees.

Finally the evening came and Yujo and Helena walked down the steps of their house down to the front entrance. It was a warm summer evening, and a large white carriage drawn by two red horses was waiting for them at the gate.

"Oh, my God! Ball, ball, ball, ball!" Helena ran up the stairs faster than anyone else.

"You're incorrigible!" Yujo laughed as she watched her sister hop into the carriage. She lifted the hem of her mauve colored chiffon dress and sat down carefully next to her sister.

"What if Mr. 3 isn't coming alone? What if he brings someone cute?"

"Who? Mr. 2 or 4?" Yujo put her arm around her sister's shoulder. "Our parents are already there. For all I know, our father was going to discuss some kind of deal with Mr. Jinbe. And mom probably wants to gossip with everyone.

It was already dark when they arrived at the gates of a large castle made of gray stone.

"Here we are, here we are!" Helena jumped out of the carriage and adjusted the hem of her mint-colored dress. "Yujo, where are you?"

"Coming!", Yujo stepped out of the carriage and looked at her sister. "Let's hurry up or you're going to die of impatience. Just please behave yourself."

They walked into a huge spacious hall. There were tables covered with white and gold tablecloths all around. A large crystal chandelier adorned the ceiling. The ladies were dressed in their best clothes, and the men were all in suits.

There were whispers, negotiations, and girlish chuckles coming from various directions.

"Good evening, Yujo, Helena!" a skinny man with a funny hairstyle in the shape of the number three, walked up to Yujo and kissed her hand. "It's nice to see you here. I brought you both some wine.”

“Thank you so much!” they both said in unison.

"Say, Mr. 3, is it true that the owners of Cross Guild are expected to come?" Helena giggled and sipped her wine a little at a time.

"I don't know about the others, they seemed to have some pressing business, but one is definitely coming." said Mr. 3, looking around the room. "And why are you inquiring, Ms. Helena?"

"No reason..." Helena blushed.

"I'll leave you ladies alone for a moment," Mr. 3 bowed and stepped aside.

"I heard there's a swordsman there and he's available, and he's pretty cute," Helena poked Yujo lightly in the shoulder.

Suddenly all voices were briefly silenced and heavy footsteps were heard.

"Ladies, let me introduce the member of the cross guild, Sir Crocodile." Mr. 3 turned back to the girls. "This is Yujo, my fiancée. And this is her little sister Elena."

A tall man with purple hair and dark eyes stood before them. He had a coat thrown over his shoulders and a hook hand.instead of one arm. Yujo was surprised, but tried not to show it.

“Nice to meet you,” Crocodile kissed the girls’ hands. “So young and so beautiful.”

Helena turned red as a lobster hearing these words. She lightly rubbed her sister’s hand.

“You see? You see? The hook!” Helena whispered to her sister. Yujo lightly stepped on her sister's foot, silencing her.

“Excuse me, ladies. I have to speak with one man and I’ll come back to you,” Crocodile said calmly.

“Woooow! He’s so.. So handsome.” Helena was so amazed by Crocodile that she seemed to forget how to breathe. “There seems to be another one there, but I don’t remember who. He must be somewhat unremarkable, since I don’t remember him. I wish I could see the swordsman. Who’s better, that guy with the hook or the swordsman? What do you think?”

“I have no idea. Aren’t there other people there or what? In this Cross Guild,” Yujo quietly asked her sister, watching Crocodile out of the corner of her eye.

Helena shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve heard about these three.”

Yujo's father, a plump man of short stature with gray hair approached her with Mr. 3. They had a long discussion about the upcoming wedding ceremony, the guest list and the menu. Yujo found herself looking for Crocodile with her eyes the whole time.

Finally the start of the ball was announced and Mr. 3 took Yujo's hand and led her to the center of the room. The girls had to stand in one line, the man in another. Yujo found herself in front of Crocodile. The music started. Everyone stepped towards each other, touching one palm to the palm of their partner's hand. Holding their palms side by side, they moved smoothly in a circle. After making a couple of circles, everyone put their second palm to the partner’s palm.

"Sorry you have to settle for a hook," Crocodile said dryly.

“That’s ok,” Yujo said and smiled.

After making a couple more circles, everyone came closer to each other. The men put one hand on the girls' waists. Crocodile hugged Yujo with a hook.

Finally the dance ended and everyone bowed to each other. At the same moment, Helena ran up to Yujo.

“God, the chemistry between you just killed me!”

"What?" Yujo asked. She felt as if her mind was clouded during the dance.

"I'm so jealous of you. I want it too! You should ask your Mr. 3 to introduce me to a swordsman!" Helena was almost jumping next to her sister.

“Will you calm down? We are at the ball after all. What if someone is looking at you now, and you are behaving inappropriately,” Yujo laughed, noticing how her sister pouted. Yujo looked around the hall and saw how Crocodile approached her father. They shook hands and started talking about something.

“Yujo, this is Mr. Magellan. He will marry us,” she was pulled out of her thoughts by Mr. 3, who approached her with a tall man, his face resembling a mandrill, with very sharp teeth and thick beard.

“I have to admit, your bride is amazing, Mister 3. Can’t wait to perform your ceremony,” Magellan said and kissed Yujo’s hand.

While the all-important potential guests were discussing the upcoming wedding, Yujo was catching more and more that she was thinking about Sir Crocodile. What was it? A charm after the dance? Or is it something else?

#one piece #one piece crocodile #sir crocodile x oc #oc fanfiction #one piece au #sir crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader

20 notes · View notes