#and I hope that maybe they will go away or I’ll figure out what they actually are lol

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter thirty-one | bad idea, right?

the battle of the labyrinth

percy jackson x fem reader

“Talk. Just talk. I know you can do it,” you said quietly. You grit your teeth together, lips pressed so firmly they almost hurt, smiling with irritance. You leaned in close to the hippie mummy chilling in the attic, trying not to pay too much attention to the musty smell up this close. “Look, we don’t want any surprises this year. Just tell me what I’ve got coming my way and I’ll leave you alone.”

The Oracle was motionless, sitting stiffly, as if you hadn’t breathed down her neck for the last thirty minutes interrogating.

You moved back, gesturing to her. The sheer disbelief you felt was unmatched. “I don’t believe this. I don’t believe you. So, what, you just tell me shit I don’t want to hear when I don’t need it but when I steal over a thousand dollars, what? Nothing?”

Not even a twitch.

You scoffed, and dropped the old tea towel on the floor. You had found it in a cupboard, when rifling through them this morning in search of a good weapon. You didn’t have the energy to go make a sword in the armory, and maybe a relic from the past could give you some luck. Some heroes had done well on their quests once upon a time and had to have left something behind, right? Upon a lack of weapon-finding, you eyed the figure at your shoulder, and had a thought.

A half hour later, you were just angrier than you started.

You turned back to the oracle, pointing your finger firmly in her direction. “You’re a joke. I hope you know that. I could get more information from a rock.“

Huffing, you set off down the narrow staircase and all the way back down to the main room. Chiron and Mr. D were doing some sort of nattering over a game at the small table when you came strolling through, hoping to avoid conversation.

Because, jeez, you’d just turned fifteen. You barely wanted to talk to anyone these days. Your cabin counselor had explained to you—in the midst of an emotional outburst—that it was just hormones. You angrily told her she could shove her hormones up her ass.

“Find anything useful?” Chiron spoke briefly.

“I could make a rock bleed before that thing told me anything. Why is nothing going my way?!”

And for goodness sake, was the sun extra burny today or were you just burning for the fun of it? It felt like your skin was peeling off, and the urge to dunk yourself in the lake grew more appealing by the second. Percy’s birthday was only days away, yours having passed exactly a month prior to his, on July 27th.

Your shorts chafed, making that irritating sound and the sweat under your arms that your shirt absorbed made the want to scream grow by the millisecond. Feeling your sock sliding down in your shoe was the last straw.

Out on the porch, Travis ripped up pieces of grass and littered them. At your appearance, he went to swing his arm around your shoulders.

“Don’t touch me!”

And, god love him, Travis didn’t.

He just laughed. “Calm down! You look—”

You turned to him with a tight jaw. Over the past months, Travis had reached a height you couldn’t believe, nearing 5’11. He let his hair grow out into a curly mass of soft chocolate.

He swallowed back what is what he was just about to say.

“I’m sweating,” you seethed. “It’s too hot. And my sock—is—falling,” you ripped your shoe off, yanking your sock up, “down.”

Sweaty shoe in hand, you turned and stormed off. Halfway down the hill, the other shoe came off, and the feel of them tapping against your thigh, held by the laces, was going to send you over the edge.

Travis blinked. His hands, freckled and golden, hovered unsurely.

“Hey—wait for me!” He called.

Briefly, his footsteps grew louder until the boy walked at your side—or, rather, paced. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Since your outburst after the quest in the winter, Travis had made it clear that he was there if you wanted to talk, and had on multiple occasions coaxed you into talking the problems out. It was like your current anger didn’t matter to him, or how easily upset you were lately. Your stomach had been killing for days, today worst of all. You knew what was on its way. On and off for years you’d gotten used to growing in all the ways all girls unfortunately had to. You just wished everything would stop and slow down.

“We have archery this afternoon,” Travis tried cautiously. You hummed. “If that’s something you’re up for.”

“I’m up for throwing myself into the lake,” you retorted. As you grew closer to it, it looked even more appealing.

“Right. Yeah. If that’ll make you feel better—”

“Travis, just, stop!” Your hands flew around so violently you almost hit yourself with your shoes. Travis’s concern made your heart swell, but the extra attention made you feel uneasy. “Please just—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Okay? I’m just hot and sweaty and oh my god I smell of sweat and I’m starving and—”

Yeah. It was time for a detour.

“I’m going back to the cabin.”

Long story short, by dinner time, you’d calmed down somewhat. A cold shower, a frustrated cry, and a laugh with Annabeth about frying pans, and everything was right again.

Being a girl was exhausting.

The next week, you were heading into Manhattan to check out a new school, with Percy.

“Bro,” Percy called down from the fire escape. You grinned up at him. “Mom wants to know if you want stuffed crust or normal.”

“Is both an option?”

“You read my mind.”

The Jackson apartment in Manhattan sat in a relatively peaceful street. The occasional car horn, a few loud talkers on the street below. Sally Jackson braided your hair. Percy ate a slice of your pizza. And you nearly wrestled one another down the staircase the next morning, but you made it to the car in one place, backpacks at the ready for a new year.

A better year.

Just a trial day, at Paul Blofis’s school. If it went well, and you wanted to go back to traditional schooling, Sally had made it clear you were more than welcome to go with them. To stay with them.

“You’re always welcome here,” she placed a hot chocolate down in front of you, the night before. Her eyes were soft. I understand, they said. I’ve felt it, too.

For once, you could breathe. A smile, a relieved nod. “I know.”

Months from that moment, you’ll sit at a polished dining table, lighting Finney’s birthday candles. There will be ice cream and sunshine, and an innate nervousness that disappears. Rachel will hold his other hand, and Percy Jackson, freshly sixteen, will smile at you, and everything will be right in the world.

But now—

Sally Jackson tapped her fingers on the wheel. She wore a pretty blue dress (which you’d helped her pick out) and heels, ready for a job interview.

Percy, in the passenger seat, looked a little troubled. You watched his dark brows knit together. “You haven’t told Paul about me, have you?”

Sally paused. “I thought we should wait until after orientation.”

“So we don’t scare him off.”

“It’ll be fine, Percy.” She reached across for his cheek, affectionately patting him. Percy rolled his eyes. “It’s just orientation. And after that, the two of you are going for ice cream, right?”

“Too damn right.”

Percy’s cheeks flamed pink. You grinned wickedly, relishing in his discomfort.

Sally smiled, looking at you in the rear view mirror for a second. “And then tomorrow, you’ll be back in camp.”

It wasn’t as if Percy despised camp, but it was obvious he much preferred to be home. The last week at their house, you’d felt that way, too. Sally Jackson had created a warm, comforting environment for her son, and in welcoming you to their mix, had treated you just like she would a daughter, not just her son’s friend.

Fifteen—a funny age for all.

You’d witnessed Percy’s growth, too. His hair had only grown messier, and thicker (Sally had to beg him for a hair cut). His voice had deepened a little more, and he’d grown about six inches (you measured before you left camp). Almost unfairly, his eyelashes even seemed to get longer, and his eyes remained the prettiest shade of blue-green you ever did see.

Sally stopped just outside the school, red-bricked and tall, facing the morning sun. Already, at this hour, it buzzed with life.

Percy got out of the car.

You got out of the car.

Sally drove away.

And you made eye contact with something that made your skin crawl.

Your shoulders sagged. “Already?!”

“You saw it too?”

“Yup.”

Percy heaved a great sigh. “Fantastic.”

“Come on,” you grabbed his arm. “Let’s just go and have a good day while we can.”

Your friend side-eyed you curiously. “You’re…strangely optimistic this morning.”

Yeah. Because the worst part of the month was finally over.

You smiled cheerfully, practically skipping up the steps. “That’s because it’s sunny and it’s good and it’s going to be a good day.”

Your friend gave a solid salute, earning himself a smack on the arm and a smile. Shaking off the bad feeling, up the steps you went. Percy abruptly stopped and pulled on your arm, a terrified look on his face.

“Oh, come on, now—”

“How about we find a side entrance?” He flailed, cheeks flaming bright strawberry. You frowned.

“Percy, what?”

Wrist in his hand, Percy’s strong grip pulled you along, round the side of the building and through an open door, where two cheerleaders were waiting, in purple and white uniforms.

“Hi!” They blinded with their bright smiles simultaneously. Percy gawped like a fish. You elbowed him in the ribs. The one on the left, tall, pretty, African American with curly hair, the one on the right, also tall, pretty, with the blonde ponytail. You scanned them quickly over with your eyes, feeling uneasy still, but tried to pass it off as first day jitters.

“Welcome to Goode High School,” the blonde said. “You’re going to love it.”

Ooooooh. Alarm bells began to ring.

It could have been her attitude. It might have been their intimidating demeanour. But most of all, it was the smell of washed horses. The smell of the camp stables. Unless these girls had come fresh from a riding lesson in Manhattan (which you highly doubted—you’d already tried to get one) they should not have smelled as such.

“What are your names, de—freshmen?” The curly-haired girl stepped so close you thought she was going to push you down the stairs.

“Uh, I’m Percy.”

The blonde giggled. It sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, Percy Jackson, have we been waiting for you!”

Yeah. Time to go.

“Code red,” you hissed, turning and looking around shortly to make it discreet. “Code red!”

Percy didn’t move. They turned on you.

“You look familiar!” The blonde girl smiled. “I think I’ve met your mother.”

Laughing awkwardly, you shot a finger gun anxiously her way. “See... No. You definitely haven’t. But anyway, we should be going now, right, Percy?”

You watched his hand pull out his sword in pen-form from the pocket of his jeans, stepping back slightly from the cheerleaders. It was at this moment, Paul Blofis made an appearance, saving the day.

“Hey, guys!” He smiled, bounding up the steps behind you. In his teacher’s shirt and pants, tie done smartly, he was the epitome of welcoming. That kind smile, those warm, shining eyes, said it all. Percy was a lucky guy to have a man like Paul around, even if he’d been seeing Sally for only a few months. “Good to see you’re both here! Why don’t you go on in and we’ll figure out where to go first?”

In his rush to move past the cheerleaders (you’d taken the slow-breaths-and-calm-movement approach), Percy pushed past the blonde cheerleader. Her paper name tag, so loosely stuck on her shirt, floated to the ground: Tammi. Percy’s knee struck her calf, and—

CLANG. The sound of pure metal.

All you wanted was a simple life.

“Ow,” she murmured. “Watch it, fish.”

You murmured an Australian-sounding ‘ah, shi—’ when Paul Blofis popped up beside you. He clapped his hands together, kind eyes going from you to your friend.

“Welcome to Goode! Everything alright, guys? Percy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Before said boy could stutter his way into trouble, you raised a hand and gently slapped his cheek, playfully. Paul grinned.

“He’s just nervous,” you explained. Paul ‘ah’d, and clapped Percy on the back.

“I get that, but don’t worry. We get a lot of kids here with ADHD and dyslexia. The teachers know how to help.”

Percy nodded his head, shaking his too-long hair.

“So, where to first?” Asked Paul.

“Could we check out the literature stuff? I kind of wanna go there. What do you think?”

Percy’s red face had reappeared.

You shook your head, pulled a face. “Dude, what’s going on?”

“Where’s the fun stuff? Like, the gym?” He rambled quickly.

Following his line of sight, standing down the hall by the main doors, was a skinny, wild-haired girl.

You gasped like you’d never done so before, so loud it scratched your throat. But the shock was very real. You felt your jaw drop.

Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare.

Percy yanked on your wrist so firmly the gasp cut off violently, yanking you down the hall in a run.

“The day just gets worse!” You exclaimed. “First, monsters. And now her!”

“Just—forget she’s here!”

“Forget about it?! She’ll be looking for us, no doubt!”

During your excursions last season, you’d ran into Rachel Elizabeth Dare purely by coincidence, a mortal with the Sight. Instantly you hated her and her over-exaggerated passion for the arts. And, more importantly, you hated her obvious crush on Percy. It wasn’t one-sided, however—she’d made it pretty obvious that she hated you, too. So it was equal. And you didn’t feel bad.

Barrelling into the gym, you pulled Percy to a stop.

“All I want,” you breathed, “is a normal life. That means one without Rachel Dare or monsters at every corner.”

Percy blew his fringe away from his eyes. “You and me both,” he panted.

Banners hung on every breezeblock wall of the gym, and little groups of teens clumped here and there. A marching band stopped playing abruptly. A hand fell to your shoulder; on the defence, you shoved yourself away quickly. The girl’s hand fell.

“What are you doing here?” She stropped.

“What does it look like, Ronald—”

“Hey!” Percy cut in, smiling with his teeth clenched. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare!”

Her jaw dropped, green eyes moving from you to Percy and back again. “You’re Percy…somebody. I didn’t get your full name last year when you, oh, you know, tried to kill me.”

“The only attempt on your life was those jeans—”

“Ohhh-kay,” Percy pushed you aside. “What are you doing here, Rachel?”

She took a breath, gestured to the hall. “Same as you, I guess. Orientation.”

“You live here? In New York?”

She pulled a face. “You thought I lived at the Dam?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Percy practically tweaked on the spot. He slowly turned his head and made a sudden move of bugging his eyes to you, a gesture to say shut up, man.

Amidst the talking, you hadn’t noticed the groups of people get together to stand with the three of you near the bleachers. Somebody behind you hissed a ‘shh’.

So you did it right back.

“The cheerleaders are talking!” He defended. “Shut up!”

“Oh, big whoop!”

“Dude, for once, I’m begging you, now is not the time.”

“Tell that to Ronald McDonald.”

“Hi, guys!” A bubbly cheer came from the front centre hall. The blonde cheerleader, Tammi, smiled a pearly white flash. “I’m Tammi, and this is, like, Kelli.” In a flurry of perfect timing, Kelli did a one-handed cartwheel.

You weren’t jealous, or anything.

Behind you, Rachel yelped. You wondered just weirder this girl could get.

Until she suddenly said, “Run.”

And you figured now was as good a time as any to follow her direction, when Tammi looked you dead in the eye.

“Why?” Percy called, dumbly.

“Y’know, just this once I’m gonna follow Ronald.”

Rachel pushed her way to the front with Percy and yourself following close behind. Tammi and Kelli were halfway through explaining how the school was going to form small groups and tour different parts of the building.

In a music room down the quiet hall, devoid of any other students, you found Rachel crouching behind a giant drum set.

“Hey, this is nice—!”

Rachel yanked on your shirt sleeve and hissed, “Idiot! Get down! Did they see you?”

You eyed her hand on your sleeve. “This is Wet Seal—”

“I don’t think so,” Percy gasped for breath like a fish out of water. “What are they? Did you see?”

For the first time, you settled down and listened to what Rachel had to say. Her eyes were bright with caution—afraid to say out loud what might sound crazy to the wrong people. But you and Percy were the right people.

“You…wouldn’t believe me.”

“Believe us, there’s nothing we haven’t seen. You can see through the Mist.”

“The what?”

“Mist. It’s like a veil between our world and the normal. Except for those among us like us, the veil blends out. You can see through it.”

Something like recognition flashed through Rachel’s eyes. “At Hoover Dam,” she breathed slowly. “You called me a mortal. Like…you’re not. You see through the Mist. You saw through the Mist. Tell me. You know what it means! Tell me why I see all these horrible things.”

Empathy did not come alongside your viewings of Rachel Elizabeth Dare. This time, for the first and only time, you accepted it.

“You’re not crazy. You don’t need meds. You’re definitely not schizophrenic. D’you know anything about the Greek myths?”

“Like the Minotaur? And the Sirens?”

Percy nodded. The screech of a shoe on polished floor came from a way down the hall. “Yeah. Just try not to say those names when we’re around.”

“And the Furies, and the Hydra—!”

Percy hushed her amusedly. “Yeah, yeah! Okay. All those monsters, the Greek gods, they’re real.”

“I knew it!” She shrieked. “You don’t know how hard it’s been!”

“Try us.”

“For years I thought I was going crazy, I couldn’t tell anyone. They’d send me to some wilderness school somewhere.”

You couldn’t help the embarrassed giggle. “Yeah. You were right there. That place ain’t it.”

“Wait.” She frowned suddenly. “Who are you two? I mean really.”

“Not monsters.”

“Well I know that. I could see if you were. You look normal. But you’re not human exactly, are you. Either of you.”

Percy slung a heavy arm around your shoulder, raising his hand to pat your face. “We’re half-bloods. Half human, half god.”

Just then, Tammi and Kelli shoved the music room door open, and strutted in like they were walking for Victoria’s Secret. Your head spun to them.

Tammi gushed. “Oh, wow! There you guys are! You’re missing your orientation!”

“Purposefully,” you smiled. “Take a hint, Tammi.”

Rachel had whitened and gasped. “They’re horrible.”

“Oh, forget her.” Tammi waved. Kelli blocked the doors, while Tammi sauntered over.

“Percy…” Rachel warned.

“Uhhhhhh—”

Come on brain, think of something! Anything useful, mom!

It was right in front of your face: the drum cymbal. The metal, circular thing with a cellotaped sticker across its bronze surface.

“Guys!”

You reached behind you for Percy’s jacket and dug your hand around in there, trying to get a hold of his sword in pen form. It didn’t take long, and upon uncapping it, it instantly transformed into Riptide. Percy didn’t object. And his sword fit perfect in your hands.

“This is our school,” Tammi giggled disgustingly. she neared so close you had the tip of Riptide at the hallow between her collarbones. An instant passing. “We feed on who we choose.”

Her true image flickered.

“A vampire!” Rachel gasped.

Percy hummed, rising to stand behind you. “With…furry legs?”

“Don’t mention the legs!” Tammi snapped sensitively. “It’s very rude!”

She advanced on her furry legs. It would have been funny, did she lack the scarlet eyes and fangs so sharply pointed.

Kelli laughed from the doorway. “A vampire, you say? Silly demigods. That legend was based on us. We are empousai, the servants of Hecate.”

Out of nowhere, Rachel flung her arm back and launched a drumstick at Kelli, hitting her in the eye. She practically growled in anger and turned on Rachel instantly.

“We don’t usually kill girls,” she ground out. “But for you, I’ll make an exception! Your eyesight is a little too good!” Kelli clicked her fingers, and Tammi pounced.

Girl code applied here. Riptide to the rescue. You shifted forward and raised Riptide above your head, swinging the sharp sword down across Tammi’s head. Her eyes flashed and her mouth snarled and the set of pincer-sharp teeth came your way. Before her teeth met your skin, she burst into gold shimmer and shiny flecks. She exploded all over you and Rachel. You wrinkled your nose while Rachel coughed and gagged, the both of you covered in monster dust.

Kelli shrieked furiously, like Regina George. “You killed my trainee! You need a lesson in school spirit, half-blood!”

“You’re a shit teacher,” you shrugged. “What can I say?”

Kelli began to change. And by change, you meant absolutely turn inside out, the other way around, back to front. Not. Right. Her hair turned to flickering, orange flames, the heat prominent on your face. Her eyes turned scarlet and her teeth grew sharp like Tammi’s did. She loped forward. You shifted back into Percy, and held his sword out to the side, shifting Rachel back too from her shocked stance.

“I am a senior empousa,” she laughed spitefully. “No hero has bested me in over a thousand years.”

You swallowed hard. “Huh. Then I guess you’re long overdue.”

Kelli pounced at you, and Rachel screamed. Percy yelled some profanity behind you; there was a loud crash of a drum bass and a terrible tearing sound. You wrestled with Kelli for a solid few seconds, well aware that you still had a grip on Percy’s weapon. The worst part of being a half-blood—having no choice in fighting monsters like Kelli. It’s annoying, having no choice. It makes you angry. And not just at yourself, but the gods, who with their power, could probably just eradicate the whole of Kelli’s species in the flick of a wrist.

Kelli fawned. “Aw,” she cooed. “That’s such a cute little blade! I think you should give it back to its owner.”

The Mist is strong here. It had never fully fooled you; having seen things that weren’t supposed to there since you could form proper sentences. You’ve always seen through it, a blessing and a curse. Here, though, something stronger is at play and Kelli’s form is flickering between her true self and a cheerleader.

She laughed. “Poor girl, you don’t even know what’s happening! Your camp is going up in flames pretty soon, you should know. You’ll all be slaves to the Lord of Time, and there’s nothing you can do about it! I’d be doing you a favour, ending your lives!”

Laughter echoed down the hall; the group from the gym must be starting their orientation. Kelli tilted her head, hearing it too. “Great! We’re going to have company!” She pounced at you, forcing you to roll out of the way. Percy’s sword lay on the ground between he and Kelli, as Rachel helped you to your feet. Percy kept his eyes on the empousa, crouching to pick up his weapon.

Kelli’s face changed dramatically from terrorising to terror. She screamed a gut-wrenching sound. The voices in the hall grew quiet.

“Somebody!” She yelled with fake fear. “Help me!”

Only the gods knew what it looked like to mortals. The band room door swung open, and teachers flooded in, students standing in the hall with gaping mouths. Percy, sword in his hand pointed at Kelli, who at this point had tears streaming down her face.

Paul Blofis shook his head and held his hand out to Percy. “Percy…what’s?…”

He dropped his hand ever-so-slightly. And Kelli burst into flames. Waves of the fire spread too quickly across everything, dark plumes of smoke hastily developing. Paul stepped back, ushering the kids away. “What have you done?” He shook his head.

Kids screamed and began to run about like headless chickens. The teachers were screaming for backup through their walkies. Rachel pushed you to Percy.

“Go!” She yelled. “You’ve got to leave before they send backup. Go!”

Percy escaped through the open band room window, sprinting away through an alley. You had no choice but to follow him. Already, sirens were getting closer. You dove into the nearest cab, whose driver didn’t even question where you came from. Percy breathed deeply as he spouted the address of Half-Blood Hill, Long Island.

Percy’s side door flung open just before the car could leave, revealing the disheveled-looking Rachel Dare. She thrust a piece of paper in Percy’s hands.

“I need to know more. About all of this. About what’s happening. Call me. Now go, I’ll deal with this.”

She slammed the door shut. You blinked at Percy, collapsing into the seat.

“Well. That was a terrible idea.”

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#capsize #percy jackson #pjo #asks #leo valdez #annabeth chase #jason grace #nico di angelo #anon #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #disney #rick riordan

[not-handsome-enough]

DICK KNUBBLER MAYE STILL BE ALIVE

Kinda

Alright before I do anything take this with a grain of salt, cause it’s probably a continuity error / can be easily explained away BUT if you all would like to hold onto some hope please just hear me out. And also it offers a question for yall.

Alright! So!

On twitter someone had asked Brendon and Gene about Murmaider III and its placement on Dethalbum IV ( which btw shoutout to Gene’s wife that was brilliant ) and Brendon had mentioned that what sets 3 apart from the other two was that it was more dreamlike, and that it was made AFTER Army of the Doomstar. Now since Brendon and Gene weren’t the ones to make the order on the Album we can’t set a timeline for the songs ( though they are set in Brutal to Dreamlike order once again shoutout to Genes wife you goddess ) we can at least say that some songs were made post Army. In fact we could also make some assumptions about what songs were made DURING army. So I’ll separate that list here.

NOTE : YALL DONT NEED TO READ THIS PART THIS IS JUST ME RUNNING WITH “ some songs were made post AOTD which ones could they be teehee “ JUST KNOW MURMAIDER AND SOS WERE AFTER KUBBLER DIED OK SORRy I’m not deleting that whole thing I like it

Songs with “ * “ are canon, the rest are personal interpretation.

DURING ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Aortic Desecration ( the first song of salvation but obviously not )

* SOS ( song of salvation )

Gardener of Vengeance ( Nathan directly references this during the scene where he confides in the band and Knubbler that he doesn’t write songs about hope and he’s just doing what he knows. I believe he wrote and recorded this but felt it wasn’t good enough to be the song of salvation and moved on. HOWEVER the language he used could place this as post AOTD because it sounds more like a thrown out there example kinda like how he figured out SOS in the cave )

Poisoned By Food ( Again I think this is a scrapped song of salvation since besides the actual poisoning of food a lot of the imagery feels like the what the metalocalypse was described like )

BLOODBATH ( guess what another scrapped song of salvation. This one feels like a ‘you don’t scare me I’m going to confidently stop you because if I go down you go down with me’ song. Also it could be Nathan trying to reach out to Magnus since he was one of the people on his list. Also quick note I’m going song by song so I don’t know if I’ll notice if any other songs would reflect the list I just got out of work so I’m not gonna catch it all rn )

Horse of Fire ( this is tricky because lyrics like star still blazing allude to this being written before aortic desecration but also Nathan didn’t have the talk with the whale until the deadline came up in which he had to go with aortic desecration <he wouldn’t have had time to write about the fist or the hand.> But the lyrics don’t have the <we should reach out to the fans> revelation that SOS has. Maybe this was a draft for SOS but I think once Nathan figured out what SOS was meant to be it just came to him naturally. I’m not sure. HOWEVER since the doomstar is referred to as a star that is still blazing and not a portal that’s been destroyed it’s safe to say this is not post AOTD. Either way this is an important song to keep in mind if you look at this speculating )

POST ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Murmaider III ( stated by Brendon Small in the interview. He said he feels that the boys would have written this after AOTD and based off of interviews he’s had in the past about his songwriting process it’s hard to not take this as canon so. )

DEADFACE ( I think this is post because while the song plays during the movie only Skwisgaar knew about the possession so the lyrics wouldn’t quite make sense yet. It’s a tricky placement but I can see Skwisgaar playing around with it since he does play the notes during the movie )

Mutilation on a Saturday Night ( this feels so much like a we survived so now we’re gonna party song I can’t see Nathan Skwisgaar or Pickles make an argument for this being a Song of Salvation. Also all the fucked up shit they talk about references what happened during the metalocalypse but it’s spoken in past tense like a ‘hey we fucked shit up but we fixed it so now we’re just gonna keep fucking around haha’)

I am The Beast ( simply cause I don’t see this as something Nathan would write during AOTD but the ‘ I am a beast this is my domain and when I speak you scream my name ‘ could work as a salvation line but it feels too much like a Mutilation Saturday Night ‘I can write whatever I want cause I lived and I’m not gonna hold back’ vibe )

Satellite Bleeding ( this feels like the first song they would have written and recorded after the doomstar died. Kinda like watching the sky clear up after a storm. )

Now despite me rambling on about this I would like to draw attention to what’s canon. Specifically SOS and Murmaider III. These songs came out after Knubbler died. Yet Dethalbum IV credits Knubbler for production.

Drawing your attention to how crediting in the Dethalbum works, each album has a little section for Dethklok to get musical credits and thank whoever and whatever. There’s also production credit and location credit. On ALL of the Dethalbums Knubbler is credited as producer. Cause he’s the producer makes sense yeayeyaeyah. But whenever there’s a change in location or production, there’s additional credits.

ANOTHER NOTE: I DONT HAVE THE KLOK OPERA CD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CREDITING SYSTEM LOOKS LIKE ON THERE but if someone happens to be selling that cd outside of eBay please let me know

Let’s look at them.

Dethalbum I ^

Shit ton of credits right, and on the other page which I didn’t take a picture of and can’t because I’m not home at the moment there’s credit to Snakes N Barrels for “Kill You” with each member listed. Take note that songs that are considered exceptions are credited differently and locations not at Mordhaus are credited.

I lied I have the other page. For those without the dethalbum cds the actual credits are usually on another page and “Kill You” got mixed in with it

Anyways

Dethalbum II

Hey Knubbies gets to thank someone this time! Anyways once again Knubbler is credited for production, but also Dethklok. Keep this in mind. Also the fact that different location credited for Murmaider II but it’s recorded at Mordhaus

Dethalbum III

Knubbler credit AND Abigail credit along with Dethklok AND once again location credit is Mordhaus and another fuckass place. Only thing that’s not really credited is Magnus with The Hammer but idk if he was like Toki and William where they play the songs but don’t really write or if he actually wrote The Hammer. I’m not a HammerHead, I’ve seen people interpret him as both, but at the end of the day idrk.

So what about Dethalbum IV

Knubbler is credited. At Deus Keep. Only Knubbler. Only at Deus Keep. “But he’s not credited as a Producer” True! If the album was released in universe it would probably be a producer credit. Especially since Brendon and Ulrich have Producer credit on the page prior. Maybe it’s because Knubbler didn’t make it to the final production stage. Or maybe he’s staying hidden undercover..

Remember earlier. He canonically was not around for two of these songs on this album. He could not have recorded OR mixed SOS or Murmaider III. Even if you don’t fully think that Murmaider III was made Post AOTD, SOS was done post Knubbler death. Hell, the song was dedicated to him by William! But there’s no separate credit for SOS.

If we went on the same basis as previous albums SOS would have been credited to that part of Norway where they traveled to that I forgot the name of and I’m not gonna look up but you get the point. Or even Dethklok would have been credited as production. I could also say something about how Murmaider III wasn’t recorded in the Mariana Trench and how the whale isn’t calling to Nathan anymore but that’s for another day. Right now though, it’s just Knubbler. Just Knubbler and Deus Keep.

Which leads to 3 possibilities.

Knubbler Lives: Knubbler survived ( the flashing things on the ground were teleporters ) and Deus Keep is rebuilt. To celebrate their survival they make Dethalbum IV but don’t release it

Knubbler Died: The band recorded the last few songs on the album at the remains of Deus Keep. Knubblers presets aren’t changed so credit remains to him. Once again not releasing it.

It’s not an album: Dethalbum IV doesn’t exist in universe. That’s why there’s no producer credit. That’s why Nathan doesn’t thank the klokateers ( he thanks the army of the doomstar which is just him thanking fans ). Dethklok recording it post AOTD is more to do with how Brendon records dethalbums than in universe writing.

I like to think that this is just an unreleased album in universe since the record label is more than likely destroyed, but it has the possibility of releasing one day if society is rebuilt to what it once was. But it really depends on if you think the album is canon to the universe. Cause there’s no Mordhaus credit on Dethalbum IV and there’s no way for SOS to have been recorded at Deus Keep and blablabla

something fun to think about tho yk?

TLDR: two songs on dethalbum IV were made after Knubbler death yet the credit doesn’t change for him in the dethalbum so there’s a chance that he recorded and mixed those songs cause he is alive and well horray

#metalocalypse #take this with a massive grain of salt #take it with a rock of salt tbh #dick knubbler #I’m rambling like crazy but :( #also I just noticed on dethalbum IV it’s the first time Murderface isn’t placed last in credits #I’ll be honest if Knubbler wasn’t credited at all on dethalbum IV I would have cried very much #I FORGOT TO SPOILER THIS I AM SO SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR SPOILER #SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR

[lehana37]

Oh god I just opened safari on my phone and all 241 tabs of AO3 are gone

What am I supposed to do with myself

How do I get them back

#No actually does anyone know what to do in this situation I’m freaking out a lil bit #big bit #actually going to start crying in about three minutes if I don’t figure out something #maybe just open up random fics in the meantime so I won’t see the barren wasteland of my broken dreams #will opening new tabs confine me to whatever hell this is though #where’s my blorbos #WHERE ARE MY BLORBOS #bring them back #god don’t play with me tonight #I haven’t eaten in hours and I’m one tick away from feral #do not test me against the gods tonight #I will take only one prisoner #and only so I can ask some /friendly/ questions #okay but actually I have like five followers and I hope to god one of them knows how to help #or can say oof same it gets better #I should’ve switched to Firefox months ago when bee told me too #this is karma isn’t it #listen to your best friend when he’s giving advice #or I’ll snatch your fics #can I tag this as dp x dc #I don’t think so #but that’s what a good 40ish of my tabs were #mmmmm frothing at the mouth #I never understood what the meant before #god I need to go eat some cheese or something #maybe that’ll make it better #I’d touch some grass but it’s cold #and I don’t wanna touch grass #I wanna read about my time travel some more please #I don’t know what anything is called!!

[steviescrystals]

guys things are happening

#so i met this girl at work last summer and we clicked right away and we were super close for a while #and it was really only a few months but i considered her one of my best friends #and then both of us got promoted to basically shift leads and right after that things just got really weird between us #i never figured out what exactly happened but it was just like tense and off which sucked bc the time before that was so much fun #but i just pushed it aside bc i still wanted to be friends with her and i was hoping it would just pass i gués #and THEN a couple months later she got promoted to store manager which was… shocking #i want to make it super clear i did not want to be manager and i truly was not jealous of her job #but i just did not think she was the right choice for manager bc after working super closely with her for months #i had seen her do sooo much shit that was either not allowed or just like not correct and straight up kinda dumb?? #but none of the higher ups knew about it bc i would always help her fix her mistakes bc she was my friend and i wanted things done right yk #so anyway she became manager and our friendship just got even weirder bc suddenly she was my boss and i did not think she was a good manager #as much as i still loved her as a person she just got on my nerves a lot at work bc of the way she was running things #THEN a month after that annual company wide layoffs happened and i got laid off 😍 which i have vented a ton about on here bc it was awful #and the one bright side to it was that i thought maybe our friendship could start to go back to normal now that we didn’t work together #but instead she pretty much stopped talking to me completely aside from sending me a tiktok occasionally #so i was like okay this sucks but oh well i’ve got my own shit to deal with now that i’ve gotten laid off so i’ll just give her space #and tbh i was just hoping a band we both like would go on tour soon or something so i’d have a good opportunity to ask her to hang out again #BUT THEN she texted me a few minutes ago and turns out she just got fired??? #which does not happen often at that job btw there’s very low turnover i think only like 2 people got fired the whole time i worked there #usually layoffs are the only time people end up leaving #and it’s weird bc i spent all that time thinking it was a bad choice for them to make her manager and she wasn’t doing a good job #but i’m still somehow surprised??? #and i feel so guilty bc i talked so much shit about the whole thing with one of my other friends bc her management pissed me off so bad #and it’s not like me talking about it with someone who didn’t even work there caused her to get fired but i still feel so bad #like yeah i do think she shouldn’t have been manager in the first place but i would never wish that on someone yk #so idk i’m just like in a very weird headspace rn!! #vent #lj.txt

[gandreida]

This is the least depressed I have felt in years

#i think like maybe once every couple of weeks I’ll have an evening where I’m feeling down but I can still manage it pretty well #like it’s just sort of like ‘damn i hate feeling this way but im gonna do everything i can to make myself feel better’ #and then make myself some food and do things to occupy my mind #I am out here living life #living life is a skill you have to cultivate which SUCKS but once you figure it out… #I didn’t understand so many things growing up that I just Get now #going to the shops by yourself doing what you want #legitimately did not know what i wanted to do #did not know what i liked or disliked #i was indifferent to everything #i dont understand how to be indifferent to everything now but i remember what it was like #im happy. im healthy. i honestly dont want to die anymore. #Legitimately did not see myself making it to 28 years old like 6 months ago and here i am with a completely new outlook on life #i survived so many situations. i put myself thru so many scenarios just hoping it would take me away but i lived anyway and im happy 4 that #I met people that felt the same way I did and I fought tooth and nail to save them even if only for that night #i cared so deeply for complete strangers. I feel like maybe I was trying to save myself thru them #my determination to prevent others from doing the things id been doing because deep down i knew it was wrong #who do we have if not eachother? #‘hell is real’ has replaced ‘i wanna kms’ as the phrase i constantly repeat to myself. I cant stop saying it like i dont have a choice #when im with others tho j find myself saying ‘what a good day’ with the same amount of unintentional force #i say it with much more intent and consciousness when i am alone #because so many days are good day. 13/14 of days are good days im noticing #even the days where i feel down at the end are good days. My feeling sad/anxious/depressed doesnt mean i had a bad day. even if it feels bad #i love my friends so much #and i love meeting so many people #i love meeting new people all the time even if i dont remember them #i want to remember them because so many people are so nice and i love those connections #what a good day today was. what a damn good day. Everything is okay. #Special thank you to my roommates and to my former roommates for being my biggest supporters and for saving my life

[cozage]

It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person

Congrats on 2k followers ♡

I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)

Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡

Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3

Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740

Returned Kisses

Zoro

“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”

Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”

Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 

“I guess you’ll just have to see!”

His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 

“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 

Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 

When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 

“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”

He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 

When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”

Sanji

“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 

“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”

“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”

“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 

“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”

The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 

You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 

“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”

You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”

His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 

“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 

Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”

You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 

Luffy

“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 

“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”

His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 

He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”

“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”

You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #luffy #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #cozage #✧˚zoro✧˚ #✧˚sanji✧˚ #✧˚luffy✧˚

[remuslovebot]

Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective

gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n

————————————————————————

It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.

Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.

Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.

He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.

A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.

“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.

“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.

You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’

“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.

Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.

You let it be, too stunned to speak.

Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.

“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.

“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.

But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.

Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.

“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.

You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.

Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.

You saw now that no one was there.

Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.

You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.

Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.

“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.

You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”

The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.

Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.

You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.

Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.

Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.

“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.

“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.

Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.

Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.

“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.

Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.

#felix catton x y/n #felix catton #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi #saltburn x reader #saltburn #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader

[luveline]

hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33

love you!!! fem!reader

“You’ve always had terrible posture.” 

“What?” Spencer asks. 

You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.” 

He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet. 

“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest. 

You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath. 

“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…” 

He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish. 

“Does that sound okay?” you ask. 

He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.” 

“I love you.” 

He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.” 

“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly. 

“I’m fine.” 

You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.” 

You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop. 

Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine. 

He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all. 

After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel. 

“Don’t sit so far away,” he says. 

“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.” 

He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology. 

You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.” 

“It’s not like that,” he insists. 

“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.” 

He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line. 

Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again. 

“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.” 

“I always mean it,” he says honestly. 

For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be. 

“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.” 

He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[harstyle]

the styles’ nanny

Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 7.3k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet

A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.

And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.

It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.

But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”

She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.

“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”

Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.

“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”

Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.

Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”

“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”

He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”

“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”

Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

—

“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”

“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”

Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.

But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”

“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”

Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”

“Please, I just want ice cream.”

It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.

“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”

He merely shook his head.

Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore

Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.

Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.

Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.

“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”

She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”

Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.

“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”

“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”

He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.

“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”

In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.

Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.

“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”

“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”

“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”

“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”

He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”

And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.

Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”

She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.

She could probably indulge a little then, right?

“Yeah, I do.”

He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.

“You can now?”

“Yes.”

He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.

What the fuck was that?

Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.

It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.

So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.

And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.

A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.

It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.

“Daddy?”

Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.

Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”

He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re still here.”

She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”

He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.

“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”

Her stomach did another flip.

Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!

Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.

“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”

He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”

Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”

“Missed you, daddy.”

She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.

Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”

In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”

“Will you be here too, Y/N?”

Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.

But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”

To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”

Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”

“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”

“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”

It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.

After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”

“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”

She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”

She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.

“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”

She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”

He hummed in agreement.

She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.

“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Kay. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.

“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”

“It’s my job to be good to him.”

“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”

“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”

The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.

So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.

She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”

His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”

“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”

It was a lie, of course it was.

“Fine.”

As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.

Shit.

—

Y/N was crying.

She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?

And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.

Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.

She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.

There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.

But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.

“Y/N?”

She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What had she done?

“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”

“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“

“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”

“The viper.”

“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”

“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.

When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.

“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”

He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.

He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.

After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”

And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.

“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.

“Harry, I’m sor—“

“Drink the water.”

She almost flinched at his angry tone.

Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”

All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.

“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”

Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.

In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”

She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?

“What?”

“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”

The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.

He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.

Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”

Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it

“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”

He truly did have a point there, she supposed.

But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”

“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”

“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.

“What do you mean?”

He couldn’t be so daft, could he?

“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”

That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.

She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”

He was probably right about that.

“Okay.”

As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.

He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”

“Um, if you have something?”

She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.

He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”

Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”

Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.

When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.

Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You’re really nice t’me.”

“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”

“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.

What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.

He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.

It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.

He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.

There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.

It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.

He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.

He would lie awake until sunrise.

—

Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.

God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.

After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”

“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.

He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.

Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.

He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.

“I— are you okay?”

It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”

“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“

His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”

Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.

But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?

“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”

And that… well, was partly right.

“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”

Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.

“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“

“I know that—“

“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”

Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.

There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.

“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”

“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”

Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”

He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”

“You act like I don’t know that!”

“Evidently you don’t.”

“Yes I d—“

“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”

It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.

Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.

Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.

“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”

She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.

She’d fucked up so badly.

And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.

-

And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles series

[stvolanis]

Now i know you better

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Fem!Sinner!Reader

WARNINGS: ANGSTTTT, mean!Alastor, cheating w/ Lucifer, probably inaccurate time line idk, foul language,this is honestly kind of poorly written I’m sorry, manipulation, abuse, Alastor owns Readers soul, toxic relationship, possessive!Alastor, pet names, brief mention of suicide

NSFW WARNINGS: dubcon, slapping, hair pulling, choking, forced cream-pie, degradation, dacryphilia, p in v sex, knotting, humiliation, blood if you squint

SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

It wasn’t your fault that your grave was dug the moment you stepped foot into the fiery pits of hell.

It wasn’t your fault that it was dug by Mimzy when she introduced you to her dear friend, the Radio Demon who, oh so casually, casted peoples screams for hell to hear.

Mimzy, known to drag people into her messes when shit hits the fan, had deeply embedded you into an on-going war with one of the various overlords, simply by seeking a place to lay low for a few days. You didn’t expect Alastor to show up, that damned smile engraved onto his face.

And it most definitely wasn’t your fault that you laid in said grave.

He was charming, and charismatic. A lethal combination when a sense of confidence and dad-humor was thrown into the mix. The way you met wasn’t the most ideal, especially when he basically bombarded through you, inviting himself into your wrecked home to find Mimzy himself without a word.

His smile, then, seemed aggravated. He did little to hide the annoyance she had somehow caused him, and the way his voice grew in static when he spoke showed that. He was scary when you had watched his figure enlarge, his once normal, slim body now turning into a tall, beastly, and lanky figure with protruding antlers and dilated pupils.

Dread set into your core that day when he directed his wrath towards you. His tall frame stalking over you, a hand quickly shot to your throat. Your back hit against the wall as you were lifted from the ground, gasping for breaths of any air you could possibly get.

His breath was drug out and uneven as his chest moved up and down at a surprisingly slow pace. Even though he seemed to be filled of fury and unease—he had a sense of control over his calmness to an extent. Eerily, he had glided his mouth along your neck, inhaling your scent.

A harsh groan, almost as if he were in pain had slipped past his lips. It rumbled deep in his chest, and your eyes watered as your vision began to fade. Only then, did he release you and let your body fall to the floor. You held your throat gently as you finally got what you were begging for.

“Maybe you’ll listen, since sweet Mimzy won’t.” He began, his voice deep and contorted with static and brute. “You will fix the mess she created, and restore what was mine to begin with. Your soul will be mine until you have fulfilled your duty as said.” He finished.

Your mouth gaped. He had presented it to you like you had a choice in the devastating matter, but you knew better. You sobbed as your curled into a ball, and watched as he raised a hand towards your frame that wracked with sobs. “Hush now, girl. You will be under my care so long as I’ll have you.” He ushered with a grimace as he watched you wipe your nose with your wrist.

You longed to object. To scream and yell out that never in a million and one light years would you ever agree to such a thing. Your freedom was yours alone, and you liked to keep it that way. He’d have to drag you through hell and back for you to allow that to happen, yet as you took his sharp hand into yours, it was all said and done.

A bright light consumed you, and just for a moment, you thought maybe it was the light shower everyone talked about up in heaven. The bright beacon of a light so blinding that cleansed you of all your wrong-doings, took away all your pain and replaced the emptiness with a euphoric feeling of content.

Warmth spread throughout your body, and that moment of hope ended when you felt thick, heavy metal of chains cling around your throat and wrists. Alastors smile haunted you. It crept up on you in your dreams, and ate away at the only good things you had left to hold onto.

The life you once cherished, even in hell, soon faded away till it was nothing but a faint distant memory of someone you once knew that was yourself. It was replaced by an evil demon, in the form of a gentleman who disguised plots and alterier motives with wide smiles and laughs.

but again, you knew better.

The person you once were was stripped from you, and you were bare before him to bend and mold how he saw fit. And so, he did. You became his his underboss of sorts, a quiet and submissive being who did as told. They always said behind every powerful man, there was a woman. And it was you. Everyone got the good side of Alastor, yet it was you he took his frustrations out on when the day was said and done.

It was you who endured his aggressiveness when everyone was fast asleep in their bedrooms, dreaming of a better life you knew you’d never receive.

You were his lap dog, and his favorite toy to play with whenever and however he wanted to. It was unofficial, and confusing to others, but you somehow managed to find yourself in some sort of situationship with Alastor. You were his. body, mind, and soul.

You tried your best to please Alastor, constantly seeking his approval that he so generously bestowed upon others. You chased your tail around, and ran in laps, jumping through hoops just to earn a small nod in approval for him.

He wasn’t always bad. He cared for you, in his own fucked up way. He cared in way that he would never let something bad happen to you, and would protect you at all costs. You were his delicate little flower, how could he ever allow anyone who isn’t him to inflict any kind of harm onto you? He’s a bitch, but to an extent.

He loved you, yes, but only when he was in the mood to love you. When he loved you, he’d hold you close to him when you were perched on his lap in the hotel lounge. He’d whisper sweet nothings to you as he kissed along your neck, making giggles vibrate through your chest. He’d run his fingers through your hair till you fell asleep against him at night after a particularly hard day.

And on days when he knew he went to far, his classic water works he only had in store for you would come into play. He couldn’t bare his favorite toy hating him. He didn’t know how to deal with the colder shoulder and short-answer responses from you. It aggravated him that only you could get under his skin without doing much, so when you were heavily upset, only then would he drop down to his knees and kiss the inside of your thighs lovingly.

Tears would align his eyes, but his smile never once wavering, and beg for your forgiveness. He’d tell you how much he loved you as he rubbed your sensitive bud, and wash away your worries with so many orgasms, you forgot why you were mad at him in the first place.

Yes, he owned your soul and tended to be abusive, but he wasn’t heartless.

He’d tell you he’s sorry, and that he’d never hurt you again. It’s always a lie, and each time you allowed yourself to stupidly believe it.

But the truth was, you didn’t know what else to do. You hated to admit it, but you were nothing without him. You spent so long shaping yourself into the person he wanted and needed you to be, that you forgot how to be yourself. You forgot what your previous hobbies were, or what else made you happy besides him. Your world revolves around him, and without him, it felt like your world was coming to an exaggerated end.

So, you put up with it. Each and every time.

It wasn’t till today, the day of Charlie’s fathers arrival to the grand hotel Alastor managed to put together and run, that you’d ever seen him so genuinely with any sort of nerves.

The moment Lucifer walked in, in all his glory, Alastors personality took a flip. He went toe to toe with the ruler of Hell himself, all because he was afraid of someone who he knew had more power than him. But Alastor wasn’t a weak man, not at all, and that’s why he made it his mission to piss off Lucifer as much as he could.

You’d never seen him this way before. With you? Yes, but with other people? Never. He was cunning and every word he spat at Lucifer dripped with malice and confidence. Alastor knew he couldn’t beat him with power, so he hit him where he knew it would hurt. His family. Specifically, the only one he had left.

What Alastor didn’t expect, was for Lucifer to become completely and utterly smitten with you. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s been all smiles and giggles with you.

He listened when you talked, even the little small words or sentences no one cared to listen to. His lips against the top part of your hand when you first met was the only thing that circled your mind for days. His lips were plush and warm, soft and tender. It was a contrast to the kisses Alastor left you of pity and forgiveness.

He was sweet, and undeniably handsome. He made you feel ways you’d never felt before. He made you feel like you had a choice. A voice that wouldn’t be spoken over and genuinely listened to. He was charismatic, in a way like Alastor, but it was real. His smiles were real, as were the sweet nothings he said to you.

For weeks, you snuck around with Lucifer. At night, when Alastor was fast asleep, you’d sneak out from under his watchful arm and find your way to Lucifers room. His arms were more welcoming, and warm. His kisses sweeter than honey and his love as gold and bright as they come.

His voice was soft, and vibrant as he hummed against your ear. The fingers that raked through your hair were gentle and soothing, calmed you to your slumbers that comforted you through the night. His smell was intoxicating; cider and musk, like an orchid full of ripe apples. The two rosey spots on his cheek shined in hue when you’d enter the room.

I didn’t take long for Alastor to notice. He want a dumb and oblivious man. He was a ruthless overlord who couldn’t afford to look past the little things. He noticed the stares that the two of you sent when in a room full of people. The lingering touches no one else noticed when you brushed passed each other.

And most of all, they way you’d slip from his grasp in the dark of the night like he was stupid.

He knew, of course. He knew the whole time. And he let you let yourself believe that there was any other choice besides him. He allowed you, from the goodness of his heart, to feel a speck of the freedom you longed for. He let you grasp it and cradle it with all your might, just to draw you back in by the chains that shackled you to him for eternity.

He liked knowing that he controlled you. It fueled the god complex he had, knowing that no matter what you tried to do, you’d always be his. His to love, his to fuck, his to torment.

He mocked you for it, too. Rubbing it in your face that you were chained to him for as long as you’d live in hell. Suicide crossed your mind a few times, the only way you saw yourself out of it—yet, you knew that no matter what life you had next, you’d still always belong to him in some way, shape, or form.

You should’ve known better. Should’ve known that you could never be happy. Should’ve known that Alastor knew the whole time. Yet you were naive enough to think you were smart enough to go behind his back with a person he detested the most. The one person who could easily kill him with a blink of an eye.

Alastor would never say it out loud, because he knew deep down that he would never win against Lucifer. So, he did what he does best, and he took it out on you.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to be any different from any of the other nights you left Alastors bedroom.

You lay in another man’s arms, his chest rising and falling beneath you as soft breaths slipped past his pale lips. Lucifer looked especially beautiful like this. His white skin glistening in the dull lighting of the room, and his streaky blonde hair ran through messily against the plush pillow.

You wished you could stay in this very moment forever. You’d rather spend an eternity admiring Lucifer for all his greatness, than suffering in Alastors darkness miserably.

You never told Lucifer about the way Alastor treated you behind closed doors. You knew that if you did, Alastor would be dead without a second thought. It crossed your mind a few times, obviously. How could it not? It was your only way out. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that Alastor wasn’t always like this.

He wasn’t always a bad person towards you. In the beginning, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible. He made you happy, and lively. His presence didn’t make you want to cower away in a corner, and his stare made you flush red, as bright as the color of his hair.

After all he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt shoot through you each time you looked back at Alastor asleep in your shared bed. He never cheated on you. The one of many things he’s never done, yet here you were, every so happily cheating on him. You felt like a two-timing snake, and you knew if he found out that he’d feel betrayed.

With that thought, you slipped from under Lucifer’s heavy arm, watching with soft eyes as he muttered under his breath at the loss of your warmth against him. You kissed his cheek and whispered a goodbye as you exited his room, softly shutting the door behind you. Your finger glided along the walls of the hallway, all the way till you found yourself outside of Alastors room.

You inhaled deeply, reaching for the doorknob, twisting it ever so slowly. Your entered the dark abyss of the room, shutting the door softly behind you with a wince as it creaked lightly. Damned this old ass building.

What you didn’t expect, was for Alastor to press against you from behind.

His breathing was uneven, and sharp as his chest still moved up and down slowly. You froze. You felt your dead heart stop as if you were alive. It seemed like oxygen didn’t exist anymore as you gaped, jaw slightly fallen slack as your eyes lined with tears. Your body shook as his hand traveled to the bed of your throat, craning your neck back to meet his eyes painfully.

“A-Alastor—” you gaped. He clicked his tongue. “Hm, silly girl. You really thought I was unaware of your whore-ish activities?” He chuckled out, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “Wait, please—” you began, but you didn’t get a chance to think of what to say next as he slammed your back onto the bed.

You tried desperately to crawl away from him, but within a second, chains tied you down to the bed frame. You wracked with sobs and please of despair. He stood silently for a moment, watching the way you crumbled so easily without him even having to really do anything.

“How dare you.” He hissed out after a moment. Climbing on top of your tense frame, he pinched your cheeks together and watched as tears ran down your cheeks pathetically. “I give you everything you could possibly need. I make sure you’re alive with a roof over your head and out of the clutches of hells streets, and this is how you repay me? By sleeping around with men?” He growled through his sharp teeth.

His smile was formed still, but more into a scowl of displeasure. His antlers were grown and prominent as he began to shift to his demon form that you hadn’t seen since the first time youd met him that fateful day. He was like a rabid animal, drool slipping through the cracks of his jagged teeth as his body became large and monstrous.

This was it. This how your soul would finally be put to rest. By the claws and bared teeth of a monster with the facade of a charming, hotel manager. Not the way you’d want to go out, but hey, at least your were gonna get out of it, right?

Or so you thought.

His claws, sharp as knives tore through your shirt, ripping it off of your figure and discarded onto the floor. Your white lace bra on display in front of him. Your pajama pants adorned with cheesy pandas torn to shreds alongside your favorite sleeping shirt. But all you could think about was the abnormally large bulge hard and prominent against your inner thigh.

God, you hated yourself. You danced along the line of lust, fear, and hatred. Hatred for him, mostly. You hated that you loved Lucifer—yet your body yearned to be used and played with at the hands of Alastor.

The sweet sex, praises and butterfly kisses Lucifer showered you was amazing, but this—this was different. The way Alastor fucked you was different. Yes, he was rough and fucked hard—but this was his way of showing you that he loved you. It was peculiar, to say the least. A man so easily able to use his words to fluster anyone couldn’t look you in the eye to tell you that he loved you.

So he fucked you like he hated you. But you knew what he meant.

His finger hooked under the middle of your bra, effectively slicing upwards to cut it in half. Your breasts sprang free, and your nipples hardened under the tense, cold air. You squirmed as his breath fanned against them, his long tongue shooting out to lick against them tenderly.

He played tricks on you. It was his favorite game. Giving you false hope. Dangling things he knew you longed for in front of you, only to yank it right back. Killing every last good thing you had left till you had absolutely nothing but him.

So you should’ve known better than to trust his soft tongue kitten licking your nipple. His sharp teeth bit down—hard enough to draw specks of blood around it. You yelped out in pain as your eyes lined with fresh tears waiting to be spilled over. The pain was dreadful, but god, did it feel good.

Alastors thumb trailed to lower, tracing down to your stomach till he reached your cotton panties, dampened with your arousal. “What a slut. Getting off on this. You should be ashamed of yourself, darling.” He mocked out with a cunning smile. He didn’t think twice before ripping your panties off.

He fumbled for second with his pants, unzipping them before letting them reach low enough just to pull his cock out. “Now, I’m gonna fuck this cunt till I’ve had enough, and after that, you’re going to go into the small-dicked-duck fanatics room with my cum dripping down your thighs and tell him just how good I fucked you.” He growled out, his hand finding it’s way back to your throat, squeezing tightly as he lined himself to your entrance.

“Alastor, please just listen—i” his cock bullied is way into you. Long, and thick. 9 inches of pure, heavy meat sat snugly inside of you, playing with your insides. He was perfectly trimmed, and his balls heavy balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each agonizingly perfect thrust he delivered into you.

“Oh, oh fuck!” You moaned out, head thrown back as your hand clenched onto the chains that bound you to your bed post. “Tight little pussy. Tell me, does he fuck you like this, baby?” He panted out as he watched the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He always thought you were the prettiest like this. Underneath him, writhing in pleasure, cock drunk and hungry for him. The only time you didn’t resent him. The only time you wanted him. He cherished this, not that he would ever say it out loud.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He said, slapping the side of your face harshly, leaving a painful sting behind. You whimpered at the familiar impact. “No, Alastor!” You all but screamed out as his cock kissed your cervix.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly, and the smell of hot sex was in the air. A distinctive, vile smell. Your body was lined with sweat, as was his, and your breasts bounced each time his hips met flush against your ass. All you could think about was him.

He consumed your thoughts, plaguing your mind. You couldn’t escape him. And as of right now, you weren’t sure you even really wanted to all along.

Some sick part of you enjoyed this relationship you were in. The part that liked to be put in your place, and told what to do in return for praises of affirmations. A relationship that never got boring, and always kept you on your toes no matter what. Traumatic? Definitely. Toxic? 100%. But, this is what you had to endure. The least you could to was learn to like and deal with it.

You clenched down tightly onto him as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly, his dick hitting every right spot, including the little nerve of your g-spot inside of you. The angle he had your hips positioned in hit it better, and he could tell you were close when your cunt began to pulse around him.

“Please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You babbled on and on, drunk on the feeling of him inside of you. He chuckled as he pulled your head up by the root of your hair, just enough to have your lips crashing down onto his. “Fucked you stupid, honey, i know.” He cooed out against your lips.

He tasted bitter. Like whiskey and old cigars, mixed with a strange tea refreshment. It was an odd combination, but one that suited him indefinitely. His tongue swirled and glided against yours as they fought for dominance in a sloppy, and surprisingly passionate kiss. One that said what he didn’t have to out loud. ‘You’re mine’. He won the fight for dominance, and he sloppily suckled your tongue into his mouth.

The kiss was nasty, sloppy with saliva dripping down your chin and a few cuts on your lip from his sharp teeth clashing against them, but it was the least of your concerns as he rested his forehead against yours, nearing his end.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Nice and full so everyone will know in dues time just who the fuck you belong to.” He growled out through clenched teeth. You shook your head back and forth, your eyes widening with fear. “No, don’t! Please don’t!” You begged, on and on, but to no avail.

His thrusts became harsher, and more demanding. Chasing his high aimlessly as you begged and moaned out his name underneath him. It was then that you felt it. His cock balls deep when you felt it began to swell up inside of you.

You gasped in shock as you were stretched painfully to your limit, the bulge in your lower stomach large and prominent as he pressed against it, triggering your orgasm. Your juices flushed out of you and all over his lower abdomen, and he groaned at the sight. You clenched down onto him impossibly tighter and he felt like he was gonna lose his mind.

“Pull out. Please pull out.” You desperately tried to reason with him, but he didn’t care as he sat snug inside of you, his knot finally emptying inside of you. It was warm, and you could feel it drip down your ass when his cock finally fell flaccid and limp, slowly pulling out of you.

“Maybe now, you’ll learn your lesson. You must be a fool to think that anyone could ever love you like i do.” He said, shaking his head. He bit his lip with a satisfied smile as he watched his mounds of cum pour out of you. “Milked my cock so well.” Was the only praise that slipped past his lips the rest of the night.

He didn’t allow you to clean yourself, only letting you thrown on a pair of panties from the drawer in his bedroom. Your inner thighs were slick and sticky with his warm, salty cum. “Run along now, dear. Come back when you’re finished.” He said in a singing tone, knowingly.

A flame rose in your core of embarrassment as you waddled out of the room, the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs growing by the second. It was humiliating, doing the walk of shame down the hallway, all the way to your now past lovers room.

A soft knock was laid on his door, and after a silent, dreaded minute of standing there, his door fell open. There you stood, in nothing but panties. Bite marks around your nipples and your neck prominent with a lingering bruise from the grip he held on your neck. His eyes trailed down to the cum slick between your plush thighs.

His eyes widened.

“The fuck happened to you?”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[celtic-crossbow]

Skin You With My Tongue

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, fingering, oral (fem rec), brief hand job

Summary: What has gotten into Daryl? It doesn’t matter because you like it!

A/N: I haven’t been feeling great but I wanted to finish this before taking a break. Then I’ll work on my last request. Once again, I don’t think it’s great but ah well. I’m trying to just be thankful to be writing again. I hope some enjoyment comes from it!

You had no idea how you’d ended up in your current predicament: flat on your back, naked, with an equally naked Daryl Dixon devouring you like a man starved. You weren’t complaining by any stretch of the imagination. Though he had claimed to have little experience, the man deserved medals for the sounds he was wringing out of you with his tongue.

Anyway, back to the question of how did you end up here?

The day had started like any other. Your group was still new to Alexandria. While most had been given jobs, you and Daryl had not yet been set to work by Deanna. So, Rick had easily agreed to letting you both go hunt. Daryl had refused to give up his crossbow when you had first arrived in the community, but you had to sign out a weapon.

“Bullshit.” Daryl growled from where he leaned against the doorframe of the armory. You couldn’t say that you didn’t agree with him.

Regardless, you played by the rules, got your gun, strapped the weapons to the back, and climbed onto Daryl’s bike. He had decided the two of you could go further out today, not having much luck the past couple of days in the direct vicinity.

Daryl was your closest friend in your tight knit group and had been since you all had been forced to wander around in the cold before the prison. He was difficult to read and his emotional walls were high and thick. Somehow, you had been able to scale those walls, if not shatter them completely. You accepted him without question but you didn’t take any shit from him either. You weren’t afraid to call him out. In fact, the first time he had willingly come to sit next to you by the fire was just after you had asked him if he was “violating the Georgia sodomy law by having his head that far up his own ass.” You’d been close ever since.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his stomach and rested your chin on his shoulder, making kissy noises at him when he glanced back at you.

“Stop.” He grumbled before starting up the motorcycle. You simply gave his midsection a squeeze and could practically feel him roll his eyes as you headed through the gate.

The first part of the day was uneventful. Daryl stashed the bike before you walked and walked, finding nothing to track. About midday, the two of you came across a gorgeous lake. The water was clear and having only crossed two walkers on your trek there, you decided that a swim was an excellent idea after lunch. You didn’t ask Daryl, truly figuring he wouldn’t mind and that, hell, maybe he’d even join you.

You didn’t look at him as you stripped down to your bra and panties, mismatched as they were. If you had, you would have seen him comically fumble and drop the piece of dried meat in his hand.

“The blue hell ya doin’, girl?” He snapped after righting himself.

“Cooling off.” You gave him a smile over your shoulder before mimicking his frown with added exaggeration. “Maybe you should do the same, you old grump.”

He scoffed, keeping his eyes averted. “You’re bein’ careless. Careless gets ya dead.”

“I’m not going in unprotected!” You spun toward him, drawing his gaze toward you before pointing to the small knife tucked securely between your breasts. You couldn’t help but laugh when his face reddened and he looked away so quickly that you could swear you heard his neck crack. “I won’t be long.”

And you weren’t. Barely twenty minutes later, you were sitting down next to him, fully clothed albeit damp, but feeling much better.

“Ready to head out?” You asked cheerfully.

He did not share your enthusiasm, scowling as he stood and secured his crossbow to his back. “Been ready.”

“Well, aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine?” He had already stalked off by the time you gathered up everything. You had to sprint to catch up.

After a couple of hours, Daryl finally caught the trail of a deer and began tracking it. You followed quietly, watching his methods and learning everything you could. You knew how to hunt, thanks to him, but you were always eager to sharpen your skills. When the animal was finally within sight, the archer kneeled after signaling for you to stand still just beside him. He was lining up the shot when something caught his eye to the right of where you stood.

“Get down!” He whispered sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling. The sudden jerk caught you off guard and you were thrown off balance, crashing into him. He fell flat on his back with you on top, your palms on either side of his head with your chest almost directly in his face. With half a dozen walkers shuffling into the area, you couldn’t move lest you be detected.

The deer sensed the danger and ran, the group of undead following mindlessly. As they passed where you and Daryl hid, you instinctively lowered, feeling his breath against your shirt. It took several minutes for the threat to move far enough away that you felt comfortable to lift yourself up and sit back, effectively placing your ass on his stomach.

“Well, that sucks. That was a big doe.” You complained. When he didn’t comment, you looked at him. He was propped up on his elbows, looking anywhere but at you. His face and neck were flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “You okay?” You queried with general concern.

“M’fine. Can ya get offa me?”

“Oh. Right.” You stood quickly, as did he. His back was quickly turned to you.

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Your head tilted, brow creased in confusion. “We’ve got hours of daylight left. Shouldn’t we—”

“Said we’re done.” He was already walking away, leaving you staring at his back and wondering what you’d done wrong.

The ride back was tense and silent. You even chose to just lightly place your hands below his ribs and keep some space between your bodies instead of how you would usually have a tight hold on him.

When you entered Alexandria, Daryl parked the bike and got off, leaving you there, confused and more than a little upset. He passed Rick by without a word, the former sheriff turning to look at you with an eyebrow cocked. You gave him a shrug.

“I have no idea.” Shaking your head, you grabbed the gun from where it was secured to the back and went to sign it in before returning to the home you shared with Daryl and Carol. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, leaving you to assume he had retreated to his room in the basement. With a heavy sigh, you went upstairs to shower.

Evening was upon you before you knew it, the sun having only set a few minutes before Carol invited you to walk to the other house for dinner with the group. You weren’t feeling all that hungry so you told her you’d be there in a few minutes. It was a lie. You had no intention of leaving your room.

Turning over onto your side, you closed your eyes. You had just drifted off when there came another knock. “Ugh.” You groaned and threw back the blankets, remaining in just your tank top and underwear since you didn’t plan on leaving with her. “Carol, I really don’t—” Once the door opened, you screeched to a halt, meeting the impossibly blue eyes of your favorite bowman. “Daryl.” You blinked at him blankly.

“Hi.” He nearly whispered. “Can I, uh—?” He gave a vague motion toward the inside of your room.

“Right. Uh, yeah, right, sure.” You stammered while stepping aside. He stepped in and you turned to push the door closed, a gasp leaving your mouth when you felt him press himself against your back. “D-Daryl?”

“First, the lake. Then your tits in my face when the walkers came. An’ now—this?” His finger was tracing the outline of your panties over your hip.

“What? I didn’t—”

He growled, a low sound in his throat, as he spun you around and pressed you back against the door with his body. He grabbed your chin to force your gaze on him.

“Didn’t what? G’on. Tell me.”

“Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by any of that.” You gulped, though you weren’t afraid. Exactly the opposite. Heat and wetness was pooling at your core, your skin feeling electrified where he was touching you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t lie to him. “I really wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I swear.”

There was an instant change in his eyes and it broke your heart. He released you with a muttered “shit,” his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. The dim light of your bedside lamp was enough for you to see his face reddening and the slight tremble to his frame.

“Y/N, I—fuck—m’sorry.” He quickly attempted to sidestep you and reached for the doorknob, but you were faster and blocked his path. His head shot up, eyes wide and panicked. He had absolutely misread the day’s happenings but he wasn’t wrong on one thing.

“I wasn’t intentionally fucking with you.” You repeated, your tongue snaking out to wet your lips before you continued. “But I would have if I had known it’d end with you here like this.” His arm dropped away from the knob and you entered into his space, pressing your chest against him to hover your lips over his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon.”

And now you were here.

“Fuuuuck!” You moaned, pressing the back of your head into the pillow before raising it to look down at the man between your thighs. Your fingers twisted and tugged his hair as your hips rolled, grinding your cunt against his tongue. Daryl growled against your clit, the sound vibrating against the swollen nub. His large hands pressed down on your inner thighs, holding you open while also effectively rendering you immobile.

A whine slipped past your lips when his tongue once again pressed tightly against you, sweeping up and down before he closed his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You tried to lift your hips but he pressed down harder, his nails biting into your skin. He removed his mouth from you, dark eyes glaring from just above your mound.

“Be still.”

His gravelly voice was even lower, darkened with lust and demand. You found you couldn’t help but obey. Breathing through your nose, you nodded eagerly. He kept his gaze locked on your face while his right hand lifted from your thigh, fingertips whispering over your flesh to dance down to your core. He ran a single digit through your slick once…twice, never breaking eye contact.

Your hands left his hair and fisted into the sheets of your bed, but otherwise, you remained frozen in place, panting through the pleasure of stretching around his middle finger breaching your opening. He slid in to the first knuckle, then the second, pausing only briefly before pushing in all the way. The sound that left your throat was positively sinful. You dropped your head back to the pillow and focused on not moving.

“Good girl.” He praised you, rewarding you by drawing his digit almost all the way out before sinking back inside, thus beginning a steady rhythm of which he continued. When you remained unmoving, he lowered his head once again to lavish attention onto your clit.

Who was this man? This was a completely new Daryl. In control, demanding, vocal, and positively panty-dropping. A new part of him for you to accept and adore. A part of him that, to your knowledge, only you had seen. One that you definitely hoped you would see again and again!

“Daryl, fuck!” You cried out when his index finger joined the first. You shivered almost violently when you felt him smile against your pussy.

“In a minute.” He purred, pumping into you faster.

Your hands moved from the sheets to the headboard, palms flat to keep the thrusts of his hand from pushing you upward. The moans and cries were constant, his mouth and fingers igniting a fire low in your belly. The knot was twisting tighter and tighter, and you grit your teeth when you felt the sparks of it begin to shoot down to your toes and up into your chest.

“Nngh, Daryl! I’m—” You panted, eyes screwed shut and legs trembling. He curled his fingers, driving them against that soft spot inside you mercilessly while his tongue and teeth tortured your clit. Just when you thought you might die from the pleasure of it all, that knot in your belly pulled taunt and snapped. Wave after wave of euphoria traveled through you, broken moans of his name tumbling from your lips like a mantra. You had grabbed his hair again at some point, holding him against your center with your thighs attempting to trap him there. He didn’t seem to mind, too busy eagerly lapping at the nectar you spilled while riding your high.

When you went limp against the mattress, he pulled his fingers from within you, leaving you to whine at the emptiness they left behind. You were still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pressed one last kiss against your sensitive clit before sitting up on his knees. You blinked away the haze in your vision to watch him suck on those two fingers that had just fucked you senseless, your juices still glistening on his face.

You weren’t sure what came over you but you dove forward almost clumsily while he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He caught you easily with the other arm and pulled you against his chest, your arms encircling his neck to pull his lips to yours. The kiss was desperate, all tongues and teeth. The absolute need to be close to him in that moment was something you couldn’t explain. When you pulled back to look at him, your pupils blown wide and lips swollen, it was as if he understood before your sex-addled brain could form any words.

“I gotcha, girl.” Daryl said softly, a contradiction to how he had commanded you only moments prior. You nodded and let him kiss you again. It was tender this time, slow and deliberate. The archer began to lay you back. He caught himself with one arm while the other stayed behind your head to control your descent until you were once again on the pillows.

His mouth left yours and began to roam across your jaw. He nuzzled his cheek against yours in a way that you found absolutely adorable but then he was pressing open-mouthed kisses below your ear. Large hands traveled to your chest to cup both of your breasts, calloused fingers exploring the supple mounds before settling to roll your pebbled nipples between them. He kissed his way down, that sinful mouth eager to take over worshiping that part of you.

“Daryl,” you gasped, arching up into him when his mouth closed around your right nipple, “mmmm, Daryl, please!” You could feel his erection against your thigh, hot and hard and yet completely ignored. “Please—” you tried again, the plea coming out more like a pathetic whine.

“I know whatcha want.” He murmured against the skin between your breasts. He latched onto your left nipple with his teeth while his left hand took over stimulating the right. “Whatcha need.” You did the only thing you could and twisted your fingers into his hair, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth with a quiet whimper. His touch left you suddenly and you opened your eyes to find him directly above you and lowering down until his lips were just barely touching yours. “But I wantcha to say it anyway.” You felt every syllable against your mouth, the simple action enough to make your cunt clench around nothing. Goddamn, this man knew how to play your body like an instrument.

His fingers were ghosting down your left side only for his hand to maneuver between your bodies. Grasping his cock, he slid it through your folds, gathering your juices in agonizingly slow strokes. Each time the tip of him grazed your clit, your back arched from the mattress with a cry on your lips.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Daryl.” You whined, anchoring your legs around his hips. You dug your heels into the skin just below his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him into you. Too bad he was much stronger than you.

He hummed in response but only began to stroke himself, spreading your slick along his shaft. “Tell me whatcha want me to do, girl.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were going to literally combust if he wasn’t inside you at that moment. You weaved your arms underneath his and pulled at him. “Fuck me, Daryl. Please, please, fuck me!”

He chuckled. The asshole actually chuckled but you didn’t care because he then immediately entered you in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. His arms nearly gave out as your wet heat welcomed him, stretching and molding to his cock as if your body was made just for him. He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder but you were too far gone to notice. The pleasurable burn of accommodating him brought you to new heights. You almost came right on the spot.

“Fuck.” He breathed against your neck, fighting to keep himself in check.

After you both had a moment, Daryl pushed himself up onto his forearms, drawing back his hips slowly before snapping forward and earning a broken moan from you. The feeling of him moving inside you was overwhelming, the push and pull driving every thought from your mind to leave only the ability to feel. And you wanted more.

You clawed at his back, each thrust forward tearing a cry from your throat. You barely registered that his mouth was on yours, but responded immediately, craving the taste of him. The smoke and pine mingled with the taste of your cunt on his tongue and you couldn’t get enough. You swallowed his delectable moan when your hips came up to meet this thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing off the walls of your room. Bringing a hand to his hair, you pulled his head back, pussy clenching when the action made him hiss between his teeth.

Teeth met his skin, biting down just above his collar bone. The salty taste brought a moan into your throat. You marked him there, sucking hard until you brought blood to the surface and then you released him. “You—feel so good.” You panted before your mouth was back on his. He pulled back suddenly and you whined at the loss of his weight but then he was sitting back on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking into you so hard that you saw stars. It was just on the good side of painful, your cunt spasming around his cock as the familiar heat began to build in your belly.

Daryl didn’t stay that way way long. He released your hips and leaned forward to use the headboard as leverage, pounding you with such force that you again had to brace yourself with your palms. Your cries mixed with his moans and grunts and you prayed that Carol was still away. The angle was intense, each thrust had his tip pressing roughly against your sweet spot, building your pleasure at a pace you wished would slow.

“Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna—” you couldn’t get the words out between breaths and moans, but he knew from the way you tightened around him that you were nearing the precipice. And he was determined to throw you over the edge first.

He released the headboard and grabbed your arms, yanking you up while he sat back on his heels. You grabbed for his shoulders and then encircled his neck, resting one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder blade. He moved his hands to your hips, helping you to bounce on him, spearing yourself on his cock and driving it deeper. Your moans became pleas and then a chant of his name, mouth hanging agape between words and breaths and eyes screwed shut.

“Cum for me.” He grunted against your jaw and that was all it took. You were almost certain you screamed but you couldn’t hear it, vision blacking out as euphoria swallowed you. You came back to yourself as the waves began to ebb, Daryl continuing to fuck you through. Your body felt heavy and uncoordinated and you pulled back a bit to clumsily seek out his mouth, greedily drinking down each sound he offered as he chased his own release. His grip on your hips would leave bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

His movements grew sloppy and you could feel him beginning to twitch and pulse inside you. You pulled your mouth from his and watched him until he pulled you from his lap. You moved quickly, aware of his actions, and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him fast and hard. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your thighs while he fought to breathe through the sensation. His teeth were clenched and his eyes tightly closed, sweat shining on his skin and you were sure it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

Half a dozen more strokes before you twisted your hand and he cried out, muscles freezing and face contorting into a grimace of pure ecstasy. He breathed out your name, hips jerking and ropes of cum painting your hand and both of your thighs. No, that was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

You pulled his mouth to yours before he could come all the way down, relishing each twitch of his muscles. When you pulled away, he finally opened his eyes and swayed on the spot. He seemed dazed but when his gaze met yours, he leaned forward to kiss you. It was gentle, almost hesitant. As if he didn’t know whether or not you’d welcome it.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, finally catching your breath.

“Yeah.” He replied quietly.

You brought a hand to the side of his face, watching all the courage melt away. His already flushed face was growing impossibly redder. You couldn’t help but smile. He had been dominant and commanding only to morph right back into the Daryl you had fallen in love with.

Your eyes widened.

Shit.

You were in love with him.

You were actually in love with Daryl.

You didn’t move when he got up to grab a towel, slipping on his boxers while he was at it. You still didn’t move as he cleaned you up, his mouth moving once he was done but no sound registering. He snapped his fingers in front of your face and you flinched.

“What’d you say?”

“Ya okay?” His brow was drawn inward in concern. He looked so, so nervous and you just wanted to pull him onto the bed and hold him.

“Yeah, I’m great.” You beamed.

He nodded and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing over at his clothes. “Guess I should go.”

Your face fell as he reached for his pants. “Why?” Daryl froze and looked at you, head tilted. “You could stay. Here. With me.” You offered, your own face reddening. He stayed in the awkward position of halfway reaching toward his shirt but was obviously considering your words.

“Ya want me to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” You smiled sincerely. He nodded and straightened, coming back around to the other side of the bed. He sat stiffly against the headboard, chewing his lip again. You started to lean against him when there came a soft knock at the door. You both looked up and then at one another.

Busted.

You both scrambled to get dressed and it would have been comical had you not been thinking of who could be on the other side of the door. Carol. Rick. Michonne. Oh god, Carl! You looked back at him just as he pulled his shirt over his head, an apologetic expression on your face. Turning the knob and pulling the door open, you smiled innocently at—

No one.

“What the—” You leaned out and looked down each hall to find them empty. However, at your feet were two wrapped plates of food. One with a note addressed to Daryl and the other to you. In Carol’s handwriting.

You looked around for the woman once more while picking up the plates and stepped back into the room, kicking the door shut. Eyebrows raised, you crossed the space to hand Daryl his and then placed yours on the bed, removing the note and unfolding it.

“Good for you. Now tell him that you love him.”

You almost laughed but held it, simply folding your note and putting it in your bedside drawer. Daryl was looking at his own with a raised brow before he folded it and put it in his pocket.

“M’starvin’.” He announced, plopping onto your bed while unwrapping his food. He watched you smile and follow suit, gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His note?

“Don’t be stupid, Pookie. She loves you too.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #Spotify

[hazbinwhoree]

OMG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN U DO A

yandere adam x reader x yandere lucifer

like basically durning the last extermination adam sees the sinner and basically fall heads over wings for them

and yk durning the heaven meeting he made a globe to watch angel dust i feel like he makes that globe thing to watch the reader see how there doing and sees that lucifer is too close to them

i feel like he would try to do anything to get them into heaven with him and far away from lucifer be he already took his first wife and maybe his second and he doesn’t want him to take his third wife

(SORRY IF ITS LONG)

The Third Wife

Part 1/2 Part 2

Yandere!Adam x Reader x Yandere!Lucifer

A/N: I had fun writing this but I don’t plan on a part 2 because I don’t know where to take it from here. I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer had taken Lilith, and Eve, and now he was going to take (Name). He met her first, it wasn’t fair Adam was trying to steal her. (Name) was a human on Earth who had summoned Lucifer a few months back to strike a deal. Lucifer found her adorable and endearing and found himself slowly catching feelings. He planned to convince her to join him in Hell.

Adam had Lilith stolen from him by Lucifer. Then Eve. He’d be damned if he lost (Name) too.

He first met (Name) during an extermination, (she had died and reincarnated as a sinner) and to his own surprise, he fell hard. He became obsessive, spending most of his free time in Heaven holed up in his room watching (Name) through his globe. He had to make sure she and Lucifer weren’t getting too close while he tried to figure out how to get (Name) into Heaven.

To Adam’s dismay, (Name) joined the princess’ stupid hotel. That meant more time spent with Lucifer. Adam couldn’t let that happen. The more he watched, the more possessive Lucifer began to act over (Name). It infuriated Adam. He came to the conclusion there was only one way to get (Name) away from Lucifer to be with him.

He was going to approve of Miss Sunshine and Rainbows’ Hazbin Hotel.

Lute was appalled when he told her. “But why, sir?” “None of your fucking business,” Adam snapped. “Tell the bitch princess I want another meeting.”

Adam actually came to Hell to meet with Charlie.

“So…” Charlie looked skeptical. “What’s this about? I thought you were too good to come to Hell outside of the extermination.”

“I’m giving your stupid little hotel the green light.”

“What?” Both Charlie and Vaggie’s jaws dropped.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t shit your panties.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Vaggie asked suspiciously.

“Doesn’t matter. You gonna give me a tour so I know what I’m agreeing to?”

Charlie wasn’t nearly as suspicious as Vaggie. “Of course!” She was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come with us!”

When they entered Hazbin Hotel, all the residents stopped what they were doing to stare. Adam made eye contact with (Name). She was the only one who mattered.

“What is he doing here?” The porn demon asked.

Charlie linked her arm through Adam’s and he tried not to grimace. “Adam has agreed to the Hazbin Hotel! We’re giving him a tour!” The residents looked skeptical. Except for (Name), who smiled and waved at him. His heart fluttered.

Charlie dragged Adam around the hotel, talking his ear off and introducing him to different residents and discussing their progress. When she got to (Name), Adam cut her off. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “Good!”

“Charlie–” a voice sounded from down the hallway. Lucifer had rounded the corner, calling his daughter’s name, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Adam. “What the fuck.”

“Dad!” Charlie tugged Adam over to him. “Adam said yes to the hotel!” “Did he now?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Adam. Adam narrowed his back. The energy was palpable as they stared one another down. “Your change of heart wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with (Name), would it?”

Adam smirked and answered with silence. Lucifer was fuming. “Alllright… that’s enough of that. I’ll talk to you later, Dad!” Charlie broke them up, leading Adam back to the lobby.

At the door, far enough from any nosey ears, Adam stopped Charlie. “The agreement comes with a stipulation, princess.” Charlie’s face fell. “Relax, sweetie, it’s not a big deal. If sinners are cleansing their souls and coming to Heaven, I want (Name) to be the first.” Charlie looked relieved. “Deal!” They shook on it.

When Adam left, Lucifer approached his daughter. “You can’t trust him, Charlie, he definitely has ulterior motives.” “He only had one stipulation,” Charlie smiled. “(Name) is to be the first sinner redeemed!” “What?”

Lucifer was furious. He knew Adam had been up to something.

“Tell me you didn’t agree, Charlie.”

Charlie looked confused. “I did… why wouldn’t I? (Name) is here to be redeemed, who cares about the order?”

“I care! Because I was going to convince her to stay in Hell!”

Charlie was surprised. “What, why?”

But Lucifer was already storming away. He stormed straight to (Name)’s room and banged on the door. She answered it, and as soon as she did, Lucifer pushed his way into the room and shut the door.

“Well, hello to you too,” (Name) said sarcastically.

“I want you to stay in Hell.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay in Hell,” Lucifer repeated. “Why?” (Name) asked. “Because I’m in love with you!”

(Name)’s mouth fell open, moving as she tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Lucifer took her hands in his. “Please. Say something.”

“Lucifer that’s… that’s a lot. I care about you, a lot, I do, but I want to go to Heaven. My quality of life down here is shit, and you can’t change that.”

“But I can!” Lucifer insisted. “Be mine and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.”

“I’m sorry,” (Name) said, looking sympathetic. “I want Heaven.”

Lucifer continued to try to get her to change her mind over the next month as she worked to be redeemed, but before he knew it, her soul was cleansed and Heaven was ready to take her.

Adam was of course the first to greet her, a massive grin on his face. “Welcome to Heaven, babe! Congrats on getting out of that shithole. Let me show you around.” He offered her his hand, and his face warmed under his mask when she took it without hesitation. He had won.

Lucifer was scheming, no doubt, but for now, Adam had won.

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #yandere

[forever-rogue]

Hello 💌 it's missing Eddie Munson hours here. Can I request a fic where the reader is the new girl in town? New to Hawkins high and accidentally sits at the hellfire table (cause obviously she doesn't know it's reserved 🤭) and gets all flustered once eddie and the members come up and tell her. All cute and fluffy ☺️

AN | I am weak for this concept!  Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You clutched at your tray nervously, looking around the cafeteria in search of some place to sit. Everyone had paired off as soon as the bell for lunch had rang and you were basically left in the dust. Most of the tables were crowded, and no one was even sparing a look in your direction. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and threatened to well up, but you swallowed them down and started to look for an open spot. 

After a few moments of trying to make yourself look small you found a few open spots at one of the tables towards the back. With the most miniscule of sighs to yourself you took the seat at the end, and hunched in on yourself, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible. Upon settling in, you reached into your backpack and pulled out the book you were currently reading and dove in. 

It was enough to suck you and before you knew it, you were lost and off in your own little world. But then, you heard a loud throat clear among curious little titters. You startled and snapped your book shut, looking up to find several pairs of wide eyes studying you intently.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to figure out what was going on, “ummm…hello?”

“What are you doing here?” it came out as more curious and probing rather than angry but it caused your heart to thump wildly nonetheless. He looked young and had dark, floppy hair and gangly limbs. 

“I-I couldn’t find anywhere else to sit,” you admitted sheepishly, “and no one was here so I thought it was okay. I’m so sorry-”

“Wait, you’re the new girl, aren’t you?” you turned to the boy with the dark curls under a hat; they all seemed kind but nonetheless it all made you nervous.

“Yes,” you offered them a tight-lipped smile “I’m sorry, it’s just…I’ll go so you can have your table back.”

Standing up, you tried to grab your backpack and throw it over your shoulder in order to leave and run as far away as possible. Mortifying wasn’t enough to cover how you were currently feeling. Before you could get very far, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and stop you from getting away.

“Stay,” the voice was different from any of the others you'd heard so far, honey sweet and warm. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to find another stranger looking at you curiously.

"Uhh…" you were dumbfounded as you looked at the handsome boy standing in front of you. He had dark, wild curls and big brown eyes with a soft smile tugging up the corners. You looked down to where he was still looking onto you and noticed several tattoos peeking out of his shirt, "umm…"

"You're new here, right?" He asked as you nodded dumbly. You were shocked that you hadn't noticed him before - he was so different and unique that he stuck out like a sore thumb, "shit sucks. But seriously, c'mon and sit with us."

"Are you sure?" You allowed yourself to look at the boys; they looked just as shocked as you, "I don't want to intrude."

"I insist," he gave your arm a squeeze before letting go and motioning for you to sit back down. One of the boys gasped lightly as you slowly sank down in the hard plastic shirt. The boy sat down to your right, "hope you don't mind hanging out with the freaks and geeks."

"N-no," you relaxed slightly as everyone sat around as well, "not at all."

"I'm Eddie. Eddie Munson," he held his hand and you shook it, offering your name in response. Your entire face felt like it was on fire as you forced yourself to look away, "welcome to the gang!"

Alright, maybe not everyone in Hawkins was terrible.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that first afternoon where you met Eddie and his friends, you started to feel more and more comfortable in your school and within yourself. You noticed that Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had seemed floored by how easily Eddie took to you. You didn’t think anything of it, as you had no prior knowledge of any of them to go off of. Nonetheless you appreciated all the kindness that was being thrown your way. 

The next day, however, you weren’t sure if you should just automatically go to their table or wait for further invitation. You’d brought your lunch, brown paper bag crinkled from your anxious twisting, and slowly walked to the table at the back. It hadn’t been lost on you that many people seemed to avoid their table, and a few that did walk back made some nasty comments under their breath. It hurt your heart a little bit because these were the only people that bothered to show you any kindness. 

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked at him with a nervous little smile. He cocked his head to the side to the chair on his right, watching as you slipped into the hard plastic, “surprised to see you here again.”

“O-oh,” your cheeks warmed under his warm gaze and you wished you could sink into the ground and melt away, “should I not be here?”

“No, no, no, I just meant…I’m surprised you’re back,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the cafeteria and you almost squeaked when you noticed the rings on his hand. They suited him perfectly, “we’re not exactly the most popular crowd around here.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly too popular either,” you shrugged, catching his eye and exchanging a nervous chuckle, “I think you’re the first person to give me the time of day. No one else has even said anything…they all just kind of stare. I feel like a thing more than anything.”

“The people around here…are the worst,” he put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand as he studied you intently, “tell me about you.”

“I don’t think there’s much to tell,” you shrugged sheepishly, popping a few crackers into your mouth in order to have an excuse to remain quiet.

“Everyone’s got a story,” you felt him nudge your knee with his under the table, “what’s yours? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

And that was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks, you found yourself growing closer to the gang, but more than anything their enigmatic leader. 

It hadn't taken long to figure out the hierarchy of Hawkins High School, and it was easy to figure out that you were on the bottom of the totem pole. Compared to the other kids, seeing how they were and interacted with one another, you had no clue being part of the outcasts. They were the only ones that seemed real and genuine. 

The worst part of it, or the best depending on how you looked at the situation, was Eddie. You were drawn to him, wanting to know more and more about him, which felt dangerous. You already knew that you'd both be graduating in the spring and then leaving, and that he was on 3rd attempt at his senior year. Those two things in and of itself were more than to make you weary.

The rest of it - Eddie - was wonderful and had you feeling a type of way that wasn't possible. You liked his style, his hair, his personality - all of it. The issue was that you had no clue what he thought about you, or how he felt about you, if anything. Maybe he didn't even think about you at all, besides the hour and change he spent with you at lunch and breaks. That idea didn't settle well in your stomach, even though it had no right to. Eddie was just-

"Everything alright?" You almost slammed your locker shut as you startled at the sound of Eddie's voice. You sighed dramatically before turning around and finding him leaning lazily against another locker. He turned to you and offering you a devilish little smile that caused you to roll your eyes, affectionately of course, “what’s wrong, sunshine?”

“Edward,” you drawled out his name and he groaned at the use of his full name, “you can’t go sneaking up on people like that! I could have had a heart attack!”

“So dramatic,” he tutted, reaching over and tucking your hair behind your ear, “if you weren’t so busy daydreaming, you would have heard me calling out your name. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you blurted out way too quickly, and you swore he gave you a knowing little look, “just…stuff and things.”

“Stuff and things,” he echoed in an amused tone as you nodded, your face warming up. Despite the fact that students were all around you, loud and noisy, it suddenly felt like it was only the two of you. He had a way of doing that, you’d learned, making you feel like you were the only thing that existed when he was with you, “very descriptive.”

“I…umm, nothing in particular,” you weren’t about to admit that you’d been daydreaming about him to his face. Not voluntarily anyway. 

“Well, I was wondering if you were free tonight,” your eyes widened in surprise at his question. He laughed - nervously - and ran a hand through his dark curls. It really was such an innocent question, you were absolutely friends by this point, but it felt like it held much more weight.

“Did you need help with homework or Hellfire or…something?” there had to be a logical explanation to all of this. Surely….right? Right?

“No,” wrong. Very wrong.

“Oh…what is it then?” you squeaked at him and he grimaced for a moment. He was definitely nervous.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie and made get pizza or something after?” he was biting the inside of his cheek, finding the dirty laces of his Reeboks so interesting suddenly. Eddie Munson didn’t do dates; he didn’t get asked on them and he didn’t ask anyone else. Usually it was only girls that he dealed to that wanted to hook up, but those were quick, illicit affairs never to be spoken of again. But with you…everything had felt different right from the start.

When you remained silent for a few moments, he started to panic but then you opened and closed your mouth a few times, “j-just the two of us?”

“Yeah.”

“Like a…date?”

“Yes?” he allowed himself to steal a peek at your face and when he saw nothing but exuberant joy on your face he relaxed, “yes.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a moment before slowly nodding in response, your entire face felt like it was on fire, “no one’s ever asked me on a date before.”

“What?!” he turned to you now fully, pure shock and confusion on his face, “you’re not serious!”

“Eddie,” you were laughing now, a beautiful sound that went straight to his heart and often was the soundtrack of his own daydreams, “I’m being serious! No one’s even really looked at me that way.”

“Well, everyone has been so very wrong,” emboldened, he put his hand on your face and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, “and in a way I’m glad for that because it meant I got to be the first to do it.”

“Hmm,” you hummed softly before gently wrapping your fingers around his wrist, “and to answer your question, yes, I am free. For you, I’m always free.”

“Wow,” you weren’t sure if he was talking to himself or to you, but it was endearing either way, “great - perfect. Umm, can I pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll see you at seven,” you confirmed softly, heart beating so wildly in your chest that you marveled at the fact that it wasn’t bursting through your ribcage, “don’t be late, Edward.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sunshine,” he grinned in response, “see you at seven!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were ready to go well before seven, and ended up nervously pacing around your bedroom. A slew of clothing was on your bed, as you had undergone several outfit changes before finally settling on a simple pink checkered sundress and sandals. You checked over your hair and makeup so many times you were starting to get sick of your own appearance. 

Every time you heard a car driving through the neighborhood, you pulled back the curtain to see if it was Eddie. Which was silly, considering you’d been in his van and knew what it sounded like. But still…the nerves were getting to you. 

By the time he actually pulled into your driveway, you had started reading a new book in order to occupy your mind. You’d gotten so lost in it that it took your mother knocking at your door to tell you that your little boyfriend was here. All you managed to do was groan in response as you threw your book to the side and grabbed your bag before running downstairs. Your parents had met Eddie a couple of times already, when he’d come to pick you up for school or drop you off, and surprisingly, they didn’t hate him. They liked him, knowing that the fact that he looked and dressed differently had no bearing on the type of person he was. And Eddie was a good guy, despite what a lot of Hawkins seemed to think. 

Once you got downstairs, you found Eddie near the door, standing there nervously with a small bundle of floors in his hand. He looked up as soon as he heard you softly calling his name; his brain practically melted at the sight of you. You were always pretty - the prettiest in his kind - but this was just another level up from that. 

“H-hi,” he stammered, holding up his hand in a meek little wave before remembering he had the flowers. You took a few steps closer to him, leaving just a little bit of distance between your bodies, “you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” the two of you exchanged shy smiles, “you look good too, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” his stomach fluttered with butterflies; no one had ever said that to him before, “these are for you.”

“You didn’t have to…they’re so pretty!” you gently took the flowers from him, but before you could stop yourself you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. You stopped when you noticed the pink, glittery gloss print you left, but the two of you giggled as you wiped it away, “want to know something else, Eddie?”

“Tell me,” he trailed after you like a lovesick puppy as you walked to the kitchen to grab a vase for your flowers. He watched your every move like a hawk, noticing how you did everything with gentle reverence; it was the same way you always treated him.

“No one has ever given me flowers before either,” you set them on the counter, admiring how pretty they were, knowing they were from Eddie made them that much better, “you keep surprising me without even knowing what you’re doing.”

“I like surprising you,” he admitted softly, and you vowed in your head then and there that you were doing the same thing for him, “I like seeing that smile on your face.”

“Stop,” you gasped lightly before trying to hide your face in your hands, feeling yourself grow warmer and warmer with each passing moment. He shook his head and gently pulled your hands away so he could look at you, “Eddie!”

“I mean it,” he insisted softly, and you knew that he was being honest. You nodded softly and felt him reach for your hand, “c’mon, I have…well another surprise for you.”

“Another?!”

“Well, either we could go see the movie and then get dinner as planned…or we can go on adventure,” he suggested and you practically lit up, “I figured since it’s Friday and if you’re okay with being out a little late, it could be a lot of fun.”

“And let me guess, I would not be privy to any of these things we’re doing until we’re doing them?” your voice was soft and teasing but Eddie nodded eagerly. How very classic of him, “well, just how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You don’t….”

“I don’t,” you agreed and Eddie cheered happily, already gently pulling you towards the door. He looked like an eager puppy more than anything and his enthusiasm was infectious.

“Get ready for an evening of excitement, m’lady!” he opened the door and brandished his arm, and all you could was to grin at him. He was such a dork but, you were starting to quickly realize, he was your dork, “you are about to embark on adventure!”

“I couldn’t think of anything better,” and your words made his heart melt, “c’mon m’lord, let’s go!”

At the foot of your steps he paused for a moment to look at you. You grew nervous, but as soon as he leaned in to gently kiss you, everything felt right. You kissed him back before he could pull away and you were both grinning like fools.

You’d never been more glad for sitting in the wrong spot before.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

[moonstruckme]

request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.

But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense

no stress if this isn't your jam <3

Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words

“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”

Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 

Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 

You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 

Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 

“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 

You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 

Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 

“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 

“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 

Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 

“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 

You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 

“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 

You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 

He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 

“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #marauders au #marauders #marauders fanfiction #the marauders #marauders fandom #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[pearlywritings]

A guide to motivate the General

synopsis: just a couple of messages and maybe a call from his loved ones is all Jing Yuan needs to find it in himself to finish his work and go home.

pairing: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

tw: fluff, domestic fluff, dad!Jing Yuan, Mimi being a huge spoiled baby

word count: 2.1k+ words

A loud yawn echoes in an empty space of The Seat of the Divine Foresight. The general squints, but immediately shakes his head - as much as he’d love to take a nap, there are still some urgent cases he has to attend to. It’s so quiet and lifeless with everyone being dismissed. Oh, what he would’ve given to be far far from here… 

He knows, however, that dwelling on such a matter is just a waste of his resources. Instead of feeling jealous of the guards and secretaries he let go home three hours ago, he opts to redirect the remnants of his energy to the last pile of papers he’s already halfway through.

But just as he reaches for another document his phone vibrates, screen lighting up momentarily, but even a second-long glance is enough to see who the message is from.

And he can’t make his wife wait, can he?

As he carefully puts the ink brush down the device makes a sound a couple of more times, indicating that there are three messages already. Quickly typing eight numbers of his passcode - two most important dates of his life - Jing Yuan swipes away all the spam that has gathered there this evening. His thumb lightly taps on the messenger and goes right to the chat with you, tired golden eyes gaining a bit of their usual shine.

Good evening, my love. I suppose you weren’t lying when you said you’d be quite busy. Didn’t want to disturb you before, but I hope Yanqing wasn’t covering you up, telling me that you ‘dutifully ate’ the dinner I asked him to bring you earlier.

Jing Yuan chuckles. Ah, isn’t it wonderful to have a loving doting spouse who cares so much for her husband. Of course he took a break and ate his dinner - how could he ever deny your home-cooked meals? It would be a crime against your marriage.

Ignoring for a moment your two next messages, the man starts typing an answer.

Good evening, beloved. Yes, I’ll be here for another hour it seems. But I am planning to return home tonight, don’t worry. Yes, the dinner was delicious, thank you. And you know that boy knows better than to lie to you.

Though he, personally, finds your infuriated face adorable, not scary. Sending the message, he skips to the next ones.

Look who’s been waiting for your return

And the video attached. Not thinking too long, he presses play.

He is quick to recognize your shared bedroom and from the angle you were filming you were clearly in bed. He can see the double doors of the entrance, some of the furniture and fine tapestries decorating the walls. But the main focus is obviously the big lion pacing back and forth in the space between the bed and the doors, occasionally stopping, glancing at the wooden obstacle, huffing and continuing its pacing. Then he hears you sweet melodic giggle and his heart melts and then immediately bursts when your voice enters the recording.

“She’s been like that for the last half an hour. She clearly misses papa.”

At the word ‘papa’ Mimi swiftly stops and looks at you and then at the door. Her tail slowly moves.

“No, Mimi, sorry, but papa isn’t home yet. Though I am sure he will soon.”

She seems to understand you, because another huff of dissatisfaction passes through her nose and she butts her head against the left door.

“Jing Yuan, you better hurry, before she figures out how to open the door and go bother ‘her cub’. I barely managed to separate the two.”

As the video stops, the general can’t help but snort, mouth covered with his palm. Eyes glance to the side, to the photo frame sitting snugly on his table - of him, you, held against his side with one arm, and a little girl perched comfortably in the crook of his other one. The smiles the three of you presenting are joyful and he can recall why - the day was brilliant, after all.

Not given an opportunity to wonder however, his attention is brought back by another vibration - looks like you still have something to say.

True, but it never hurts to make sure.

Want me to wait for you?

Oh, he’d love for you to be awake and welcome his exhausted body into your embrace, but at the same time he wants you to have a night of good sleep before tomorrow. Even so…he can allow himself to indulge just a little bit, right?

Warmth swirls in his chest when you pick his video call.

“Hi, pretty,” a lazy smile tugs on the corners of his lips when he sees your cozy form - hair let down, a pillow tucked behind your back and two thin straps of the chemise resting on your beautiful shoulders.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he sees your eyes taking into his own visage, noting his tired gaze, messy hair and a palm supporting his chin. “Are you calling me to answer my question?”

“Yes and no. Just wanted to see you before you go to sleep,” and that is enough of a response to you.

“How sweet of you, Yuan,” there is a guttural noise in the background and he sees your eyes dart behind the phone. “Ah, looks like Mimi heard your voice. She started running around the room. Searching for you, Mister,” even though there is a hint of reproach in your voice, the general knows you are simply joking. 

“My apologies. It seems I made all my girls wait. Speaking of my girls, how is-”

Suddenly you gasp and your body seems to jump and for a moment the phone tilts backwards and Jing Yuan has to stare at the ceiling.

“My dear? Everything is okay?”

“What-? Ah, yes, yes, it- Mimi, stop! Ouch, your paw is heavy!”

The ceiling is clearer now - you must’ve put the device down in an attempt to (what he can only guess) fight off the lion that jumped onto your bed, finally figuring out where the voice was coming from. Loud grunts and your noises of discontent with occasional complaints are the only things he can hear for a couple of minutes. Reasoning that it’s better if he stays silent for the time being, Jing Yuan sets the phone against the photo frame and returns to the paper he was about to review.

It’s almost three documents later - wow, a quick peak of his loved one is doing wonders to his worsened productivity - when the commotion settles down and you pick your phone back, heavily exhaling with an annoyed look on your face. Jing Yuan decides to simply turn to you, hand still skipping through the papers.

“I swear, this overgrown cat is the biggest baby I’ve ever dealt with. Here, look, papa is here,” and you practically shove the device into the animal’s muzzle. Big nose sniffs around, and, not finding the familiar scent of her caretaker, the lion gives you a side eye, which makes your husband choke on his laughter. The maned head whips to the left, keen hearing obviously picking a well-known voice.

“Who taught her that jumping onto the bed is okay?” You are in his sight again, fingers running through your hair, now no different from his own messy locks. “Right - you. I couldn’t get her off and barely managed to put this bulk down. You better pray she decides to leave on her own accord, or you are sleeping on the floor tonight.”

Yes, your annoyed expressions are truly marvelous. How he wished to be there with you and shower your puffy cheeks with dozens of kisses, cradling your face in his big warm palms. It would be so lovely.

“I’ll just go and sleep with my angel then. I am sure she won’t be against having dada by her side.”

He hears Mimi yawn loudly and you make an ‘oof’ sound, promptly lifting the phone.

“Everything is alright?”

“Yeah… She just dropped her head onto my lap. And is staring at me, quite offended.”

“Oooh, now you are stuck,” he can't help but smirk, relishing the roll of your eyes. He knows better than anyone how heavy his pet is. Even he feels a strain in his back whenever he picks her up. Or maybe he is just getting old.

“Wow, thanks, General Obviousness. Mimi, your papa is so-”

Abruptly you are interrupted again, but this time by a quiet, almost inaudible sound of the doors opening. He sees your body lean forward and by a warning “Mimi, stay” he knows you are pinning the animal down. Which can mean only one thing…

“Mom?” A sweet sleepy voice of his daughter proves his assumption right. Suddenly, hearing just one word from her, the man wants to abandon what little work he has left and rush home to envelope the little wonder into his arms, hear her giggle and call him “dad” or “dada” or “papa” - he'd take anything, really, as long as it’s from his little one.

“What is it, baby? Having trouble sleeping?” Oh, but your voice is so beautifully tender, he wants to have it directly caress his ears, while he is cuddled into your body, your fingers running through his thick hair. Aeons, he is losing focus.

“I heard Mimi running,” the little voice gets closer and Jing Yuan sees how your shoulder tenses - the arm is undoubtedly wrapped around the lion’s body. “I thought that daddy came home… has he not yet?”

Now, he really wants to get home as soon as possible.

“No, sweety. But guess what? I am talking to him right now. Want to say hi?”

As you are leaning back, your husband reaches for the phone, holding it properly in his hands, heart skipping a beat in anticipation, waiting for the girl to climb onto the bed and settle at your side.

Stars above, she is a carbon copy of him. Fluffy hair, tucked behind her ears not to obscure the vision, keeping the pretty liquid gold eyes on display, a beauty mark under her eye is charming, just as a lovely smile, stretching mouth when she finally catches the glimpse of her father.

“Papa hiii!” Her little hands wave happily at him, a toothy grin even wider than before. Pure excitement written all over her drowsy expression is adorable, so cute in fact, that Jing Yuan fists the shirt on his chest in a silent cry of his heart.

“Hi, my little sparrow,” he speaks softly, gazing at her with so much love, while his mind is screaming with joy. “I am going to be home very soon. But I want you, and mama, and Mimi all to go to sleep.”

“But whyyy,” she whines, pouting. He also hears the lion grunt, as if understanding what he is saying, and you just shake your head with a small chuckle.

“Because papa wants you to be well-rested. He promised us a walk tomorrow, right?” Your hand goes to rest on top of her head, patting. “It’ll be too bad if we are sleepy, don't you think?”

“Mama is right. I know you miss me, baby, and I miss you terribly too. But if we want to spend the whole day together, doing everything you, princess, want, I have to complete some of my cases. That's why I am going to say my good night’s and get back to work to finish it.”

The white-haired girl sighs, dropping her head, letting the heavy fringe escape and cover her eyes.

“Being an adult is awful,” he hears her murmur a complaint and can’t help but agree. Though, if he wasn’t an adult, would’ve he ever had you and her? “But I get it, daddy. I am a big girl!”

“That’s my girl,” he gives her an encouraging smile, when she lifts her eyes again to look at him from under the bangs. His smile is almost immediately mirrored.

“So…” Jing Yuan catches your gaze (you have been watching this whole exchange with a fond look in your eyes) and shares unspoken affection. “Good night, my love.”

“Have you soon in my arms, dear,” you blow a kiss and he makes a grabby motion with his hand, bringing it to his very heart.

“Baby,” the girl perks, wiggling in her place and tucking her hair away when his attention is focused on her once more, “sweet dreams. I promise to stop by and kiss you on the cheek.”

“I'll be waiting- I mean sleeping! Have fun with work, daddy.”

“I will. Rub Mimi’s tummy for me, will you?”

“Mhm!”

Giving the two of you one last glance before hanging up, Jing Yuan is filled with the new found motivation. At that moment he thinks that busying himself for the full duration of the day is absolutely worth it, if he gets to give his girls undivided attention tomorrow.

And he will be damned if he lets something ruin it.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x fem!reader #jing yuan #dad!jing yuan #hsr fluff