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wholoveseggs · 4 months

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Hii I was wondering if u can make an elijah fluff. Like context hes been married for like 1000+ years and he still gets nervous around reader

Dinner can wait.

{Masterlist}

Elijah is nervous about you returning home after a trip, so he cooks dinner to calm himself.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon ~ I love domestic Elijah, I could write a million stories on this subject ♡♡~

2k words - Warnings: None, just fluff!

Elijah moved with assured grace around the kitchen, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his dark hair falling softly across his face as he carefully arranged his ingredients. There was something soothing about cooking, and tonight it was something that he really needed. He glanced up at the clock and sighed, wondering if he had enough time to prepare his special sauce, or if he should just use his normal béarnaise. He decided that he wanted to use the special sauce tonight and reached for a saucepan. As he started to slowly melt his butter, he heard the front door open. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he heard the familiar footsteps of his sister enter the kitchen.

"What's for dinner tonight, brother?" Rebekah asked, opening the fridge and reaching in to grab one of his bottles of wine.

"Coq au vin, but unfortunately, Rebekah, it's for two, not three," he said, looking pointedly at the wine bottle she had taken out.

"That's okay," she replied, "I'll just help myself to your wine."

She winked at him and poured herself a generous glass, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the counter to watch him.

"So she's coming back today?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, adding the chopped onions and mushrooms to the pan. "Her plane arrives at seven thirty."

"Do you need me to pick her up?"

"No, thank you," he said. "I've already arranged a driver."

"And have you thought about how you're going to greet her?"

Elijah frowned at her, not liking the look of amusement on her face. "What do you mean? I'll greet her in the same way I've greeted her for the last ten centuries."

Rebekah laughed and sipped her wine. "I think that's the problem, brother," she teased.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his knife hitting the chopping board with a little more force than necessary.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said. "Every time your wife returns home after being away for any period of time, you go out of your way to impress her. You cook, you clean, you buy her flowers and gifts, and when you greet her, you are always so polite and gentlemanly, almost as if it's a first date.”

"So?"

"So, Elijah," she said, smiling affectionately at him, "don't you think it's time you stopped trying to impress her and just showed her how much you love her."

Elijah sighed and rubbed his hand across his brow. "I don't think I know any other way," he admitted.

"Then learn another way," she replied, draining her glass and standing up. "I've got a date so I won't be home for dinner, but I expect to see you both tomorrow."

"Fine," he said. "Thank you for your... help."

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed her bag and left.

He watched her go and then looked down at the half-chopped ingredients in front of him. He had always enjoyed cooking for his wife, but this time was different. This time his hands were shaking as he lifted the knife, and his stomach was fluttering.

Why was he nervous? It was his beautiful wife. His sweet and gentle y/n. The love of his long life.

They had been married for one thousand years, but his feelings towards her had never changed. She was still the girl from the village who had captured his heart when they were children. The girl he had courted and then married, and who had stood by his side when he had become a vampire and all the challenges that it had brought. He sighed and started preparing the rest of his ingredients. Maybe Rebekah was right, and it was time for him to try a new approach.

When you stepped out of the airport and took your first breath of fresh air, you felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You were so close to seeing your husband, and it made your heart flutter. You looked around and smiled when you saw a tall man with dark hair and eyes waiting patiently for you, holding a sign with your name on it.

"Hello," you said, "I'm y/n."

"Good evening, ma'am," he said politely. "My name is Joshua, and I will be driving you home tonight."

"Thank you, Joshua," you replied. "Can we get going? I've been away for too long."

"Certainly," he said, picking up your suitcase and walking to the car. He loaded it into the trunk and then held open the door for you.

"Where is Elijah?" you asked, getting in and settling yourself into the leather seat.

"He had a prior engagement tonight," Joshua replied, closing the door and walking around the car to get in the driver's side. "He asked me to let you know he was sorry he couldn't meet you and that he will see you when you get home."

"Oh," you said, trying to mask your disappointment. You knew your husband well, and you were certain he was lying about a prior engagement. It had happened before, and you suspected that he had arranged a welcome home surprise for you. You would have preferred he just picked you up, no surprises necessary; you simply needed his presence.

When you arrived home, there was a light burning in the kitchen, and as the car pulled up, and you opened the door, you could smell the wonderful aromas of your favorite food. Your husband was definitely here. You got out and walked towards the house, smiling at Joshua and thanking him as he carried your suitcase inside and left it at the foot of the stairs.

"Thank you, Joshua," you said, as he turned to leave.

"You're welcome, ma'am," he said, "and have a good night."

"I intend to," you replied, your lips curving into a smile as you turned and walked towards the kitchen.

As you approached the doorway, you could see Elijah's silhouette in the light, his broad shoulders and strong arms moving quickly as he finished off the meal. You paused and leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

You remembered the day you met him, and how shy and reserved he was, how nervous and uncomfortable he was around you. He was always so sweet and shy, unaware of just how beautiful he was. You remembered how his eyes would light up whenever he saw you around the village, sneaking glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. You remembered how happy he was when you had agreed to go for a walk with him. How he would stumble over his words and blush as he told you about his dreams and ambitions. And you remembered the day he kissed you. It was the first time either of you had ever kissed anyone, and he was so unsure of himself, his hands shaking as he held your face and his lips barely touching yours. But his lips were so soft, and the feeling of his warm skin on yours was exhilarating. You remember the day you married him and how proud he was to call you his wife. The way his eyes filled with tears as he kissed you, the way he smiled and held you so tight. His vows still clear in your mind even after a thousand years.

"My dearest wife, I will always be true to you, through everything and no matter what happens. My love will be yours until the end of time. I will always cherish and protect you. You are my everything."

Little did either of you know how long you would keep those vows; immortality had not yet come upon either of you. It was both a blessing and a curse, but with Elijah by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came your way.

You watched him now, still the same beautiful, sweet, and caring man you had fallen in love with. He was the man who had stolen your heart, and he was the one who would forever hold it. He was moving around the kitchen frantically, nervously glancing at the clock every few minutes. He was clearly making sure everything was perfect for your return. You wondered how he didn't hear you come in, but you supposed he was so lost in thought that he couldn't sense anything else. You smiled to yourself, loving him even more.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close. He froze, and you could feel his heart pounding against your cheek.

"Hello, my darling," you said softly, kissing his shoulder blade.

He let out a long sigh and relaxed in your arms, his hands covering yours. "Hello," he whispered.

"Mmm, something smells delicious," you murmured.

"It's coq au vin," he replied.

"My favorite," you said. "I'm impressed, you must have put a lot of effort into tonight's dinner."

"I wanted it to be perfect," he said quietly.

"Why?"

He turned around and placed his hands on your cheeks, stroking his thumbs over your skin, his brown eyes were warm and full of emotion. To you he still looked like a the nervous teenager who gathered all his courage just to talk to you.

"Because," he said softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you again.

His lips were soft and warm, his kiss slow and tender. You felt his hands slide into your hair and tug gently, his tongue slipping between your parted lips.

"Elijah," you murmured.

"Hmmm," he mumbled, kissing his way down your throat.

"Something is burning," you said.

He immediately pulled back, his eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder. The sauce was smoking, and he quickly reached for the pan and removed it from the heat, turning the stove off.

You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenching in frustration.

"I'm sorry, it's ruined," he said. "I just..."

"It's okay," you said, taking his hand and leading him out of the kitchen.

"But what about dinner?" he asked.

"Dinner can wait," you said, "or we can order take-out. All I really want right now is my husband."

You smiled and he grinned back at you, his earlier nervousness forgotten. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

"I love you, my beautiful wife," he whispered, laying you on the bed and climbing on top of you.

"I love you, sweet husband," you replied.

He kissed you again and then proceeded to show you just how much he had missed you.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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houseofanticipation · 7 months

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You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."

"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"

Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."

"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."

You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"

"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."

"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"

"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"

Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'

What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.

I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.

A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.

In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."

It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.

I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.

After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties

You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."

I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."

You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."

It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.

"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.

Who am I do decline?

I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.

You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.

All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."

My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?

I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.

What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?

#r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #cvmslvt #cvmdump #rapekink #rapetoy #breeding toy #mind conditioning

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ageingfangirl2 · 5 months

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Size Does Matter! Red Hair Pirates (One Piece)

Part 1 (Never Have I Ever) Red Hair Pirates x Reader (female)

After the eventful never have I ever game the crew are nicer to you, less teasing and pranks because Shanks was right about you knowing secrets because you were kind and trusting until you were crossed.

You walk onto the deck after documenting a recent attack that went in the crew's favour, and like de ja vu the crew were gathered around. The only difference was that it was the middle of the day and they didn't seem drunk. Before you can turn around and head back inside you catch your captain's eye and he motions you over smirking.

You sigh loudly, 'What fresh hell do you have for me this time?'

You stop in your tracks and raise both eyebrows in shock and surprise, 'err why aren't you guys wearing shirts?' you question, only now noticing the bare torsos of the crew. There was never a dull day on this ship.

Shanks clears his throat, 'We need you to judge and tell us who has the best chest because you have no bias.'

You bite your lip and feel your cheeks heat up, 'and what triggered this contest?'

Yasopp slings his arm around your shoulder and it's not lost on you when he flexes, 'Honestly couldn't tell you, but now we need your help.'

You casually remove his arm and shake your head, 'I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.'

Shanks chuckles, 'We won't judge your opinion. How about a top three instead of one?'

'Make it a top five,' Hongo interjects.

You nod, 'okay I think I can do a top five. I'll start with five and work my way up to one.'

Benn snorts, 'That didn't take much convincing doll. You have been looking?'

You shove Benn and pout, 'You guys use any excuse to strip, so yes I've looked. Do you want to be taken out of my top five?'

Benn's grin reaches his eyes, 'So I'm top five, I'm flattered doll.'

Shanks frowns and sticks out his lower lip, 'This is about physique, not friendship, so no favouring smoking buddies.'

You salute your captain, 'Fine no bias, but there's no denying Benn turns heads.'

'Let's get this show on the road,' Lime Juice calls out.

You take a deep breath and try not to laugh when they line up, 'Okay starting with number five...' you pause for dramatic effect, '...Building Snake because whenever he lifts me up I'm impressed.'

Building Snake winks at you, 'I'll take five.'

The rest of the crew stares at you eagerly.

'Number four would have to be Lime Juice because he works really hard,' you say nonchalantly.

Lime Juice and Building Snake fist bump.

You smile, getting into the groove, 'taking my third spot is Hongo because he's more subtle but catches your eye.'

Hongo beams with pride, 'Only two spots left captain, do you think you've made it?'

Shanks glares at Hongo who immediately shuts up.

'My number two chest goes to my smoking buddy, I mean look at him,' you laugh.

Benn salutes you, 'I'll take second.'

You eye up the remaining crew before pointing at Yasopp, 'Yasopp has the best chest, especially when he gives me gun lessons and holds me close.'

Yasopp rushes towards you picks you up around the waist and starts to spin you around, 'for once I beat the mighty Shanks, he didn't even make the list.'

Benn pats Shanks's shoulder, 'Better luck next time captain.'

Yasopp puts you down and you stumble a little, 'do you want to know why I didn't pick you, captain?'

Shanks nods, 'tell me.'

'Because your chest is on show like twenty-four seven and you have a little too much pride that comes across as boastful,' you answer honestly.

Shanks runs at you and you yelp before running away, 'Leave me alone.'

Mischief flashes behind his eyes and you take a step back out of fear, 'I'm going to make you change your mind love. Come here and touch your captain's chest.'

Shanks chases you around the ship while the others leave you two alone knowing how the chase will end, and it ends as everyone expects with the captain catching his prey.

You giggle loudly as Shanks wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest, 'touch my chest and tell me I'm not top five,' Shanks taunts playfully.

You place your hands on his chest admitting to yourself that his chest is equally impressive as the others, 'Top six at best captain, can't show bias towards my captain.'

Shanks growls, 'I'm going to climb your ranks mark my words.'

You pat his chest and smirk, 'Game on captain.'

You knew this wasn't going to be the end of this little competition. Maybe to avoid these situations in the future you should lock yourself in your room more.

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tsukii0002 · 6 months

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I've been thinking that in Nightbringer the brothers don't celebrate their birthdays. They have been through a lot and Devildom is very different from the Celestial realm. However, Satan has never had a birthday, he hasn't had the opportunity to have one.

Mc knows it is a sad day, the day Lilith "died", yet it is also a happy day, a day that deserves to be celebrated. And knowing everything they know, coming from the future, they decided that themself would be the one to take the step.

They started decorating the garden, preparing all of Satan's favorite foods and buying all kinds of meaningless gifts. The brothers felt a contradiction, they were not sure about it. Satan himself kept locked in his room because he knew what the day meant to his siblings and he was also unsure how to feel. But that human attendant was as stubborn as a mule, and they would not stop.

To everyone's surprise Lucifer was the first to join in, he said he would find a great gift for Satan. Soon after, Mammon and Beel joined in, both wanting to help prepare a feast that their little brother would not forget. Asmo followed them, offering to prepare a costume worthy of the occasion. Finally Levi and Belphie decided to go and find as many kittens as possible, because they knew that nothing would make their brother happier.

When Satan realized everything (because yes, they couldn't keep the surprise) he couldn't help spilling a couple of tears. Not because of the gifts, not because of the food, not because of the party, but because his brothers were happy, they were happy that he was there with them and they wanted to show it to him.

At the end the seven demons melted in a big hug. And while Mc watched them in satisfaction, somewhere in the human world a girl felt happy, unconsciously happy for that little brother she did not know.

Happy Birthday Satan!! ~

If you have made it this far, thank you very much. I have to say that nightbringer has made me like Satan's character a lot more and I can't help thinking about these things, it warms my little heart. So for his birthday, self-indulgent publication.

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blingblong55 · 5 months

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Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like

--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---

A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic

He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job.

They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list.

Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down.

You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe.

"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door.

A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head.

For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.

His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture.

That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you.

And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season.

You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him.

"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you.

Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true.

Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.

"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered.

As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks.

One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough.

He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper.

No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months.

My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.

A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Ambitious King.

Long live the King of Beasts, he who shines like the sun.

He stands atop the heap, clutching victory in his righteous grasp.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"We've come to finals of the interschool Spelldrive tournament!" an announcer blares over the stadium. "It's down to the wire, and this will be the deciding round. With the scores tied, it’s anyone’s game!!"

A crowd chomps at the bit for a winner to emerge from the field. They lean forward in their seats, clutch onto hope, stuff their mouths with soda and popcorn. This is a show, the players, actors, and they, the audience.

Leona allows himself a smirk.

We’ll give’m a real show-stopper then. That crown is as good as mine.

“What should our strategy be this time, sir?” a teammate—a Scarabia student—asks.

They’re huddled shoulder to shoulder, one student contributed from each of the seven dorms. Their allegiances may lie in different places, but they all wear the same black and violet uniform. They are all Night Ravens, united under one banner: his.

“We’ll finish this in a single decisive blow,” Leona replies, snapping his goggles on. “I’ll take the disc and score us that final point. The rest of you, cover me.”

“You heard the boss,” the smallest player says. It’s Epel, tiny but feisty—a contrast to his big blue eyes and lilac waves of hair. “Don’t worry, Leona-senpai! I’ll fer sure keep’m offa yer tail!”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid.” He raises his head and calls, “Clear!”

And with that, the players peel off into their own positions. The other team, uniforms pristine white and hemmed in royal blue, are patiently waiting. Leona pulls up to the center of the field where the referee and the opposing team’s leader await.

When he looks, he falters.

It’s a face that is frighteningly similar to his own.

The same skin color, the same lion ears and tail, the same construction of the features—if not softer and more friendly. His mane is held up in a ponytail, bright red-orange that fades into a golden yellow. He’s younger than he should be, missing the slight creases under his warm brown eyes and the lines that flank his perpetually smiling mouth.

“Falena?”

An icy dread creeps up from his core. The world around him seems to slow and come to a complete stop.

But this can’t be. My brother is 10 years older than me. He’s no longer a student, he’s—

“Leona? Is something wrong?” Falena inquires with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to play against family.”

Annoyance flares up.

Brother or not, Leona detests that smile. The smile of a man that has robbed him of everything.

“Dream on,” he snarls back. “I’m overthrowing Royal Sword Academy and you."

The referee lets the disc drop and blows into his whistle. “BEGIN!!”

"Aaand it's started!!" the announcer declares.

His body instinctively kicks into action. He swipes the frisbee, keeping it afloat in a blaze of blood-red magic.

RSA swarm him, magical pens at the ready.

“Protect him…!” he hears Epel shout. “Protect the king!!”

His team charges, each of them trained on their target. NRC and RSA, reflecting the other, copying movements as they bound around on the field, seeking an opening or cutting it off.

Leona blows into enemy territory, furiously racing to the goal post.

"What's this?! It looks like Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team has already devised a plan to secure victory. They're closing off any aid the RSA team can offer to each other!"

The crowd revs up like an engine coming alive, a slumbering city waking. Blood thunders in his ears, louder than his audience.

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oooh, and here comes the upset! It's Captain Kingscholar of the RSA team, come to interfere with the game plan!"

Leona swerves, and a stream of fire narrowly misses him. "Tsk!"

A flash of red and gold, and there's his brother at his side. "Sorry, Leona. It won't be that easy."

"Knock it off. I don't have time to play games with you!"

He dives, trying to shake Falena off--but he pursues, relentless in the chase. They thread each other in the sky, trading spells.

Explosions of heat and color. Shards of ice whizzing by, columns of water. Windy whips lashing at them. All-consuming light and darkness.

"This is amazing, folks! We are witnessing a brotherly quarrel the likes of which we've never seen before... Look at that dazzling display of flight technique and spellwork!"

Through it all, Falena' laughs.

So carefree, so cheerful. A knife twists in his chest, and the anger spikes again.

"That's enough...! I'm ending this," Leona snarls.

His magic collects in a single sphere. There is no body to it, no true shape--only a contained vortex of gales. They violently churn in an endless cycle, raising a storm in a jar.

He sends it hurtling at Falena, who moves to conjure a barrier--

Too late.

The ball expands, releasing its energy in one deep sigh. The audience is slammed back into their seats, the players blown to the ground or sent crashing into the bounds of the stadium. They're dazed, confused, scrambling to rebalance on their brooms.

The path, he sees, is clear.

Now...!

He lets out a monstrous roar and blitzes for the goal post. The disc sparkles, charging with power for the final blow as he gallops toward his prize.

The announcer hops back on, his voice frantic. "Could this be it?! Can Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team reclaim the throne from his brother?!"

Noise builds around him. RSA players calling out to each other, NRC players changing his name, the crowd cheering.

It's now or never.

Leona spikes the disc with all his might. It clears, the winning shot like a shooting star. Some golden object encapsulated in a blaze of fire.

The adrenaline in his blood sings with triumph. His tired muscles, his heavy breathing, the sweat upon his brow--badges of honor.

The sound intensifies, joined by whistles and shrieks. Feet stomping, hands clapping. People standing and hugging their neighbors. (Leona thinks he sees Crowley among them, sobbing uncontrollably.)

“This is incredible, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve just witnessed history being made today…! Night Raven College has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, breaking Royal Sword Academy’s 99 year win streak!!"

Leona slowly returns to the ground, dismounting from his broom. He lands beside Falena, who is sprawled on his back and wearing the usual smile.

"Ahahah, looks like you beat me," he says casually.

"... Fool. Get up, you look ridiculous. The acting king of the Sunset Savanna shouldn't be rolling around in the dirt." Leona looks away, but awkwardly offers a hand.

Falena laughs and accepts it, hauling himself up. "That's a funny joke. When did you get a sense of humor?"

He scowled. "I didn't make one."

"Are you still half asleep? And you still beat me?" Falena punches him in the bicep. "That's my talented big bro."

"What... big bro?"

There it is again: something cold and sinister inside of him. The lingering feeling of wrongness.

Suddenly, the adrenaline in him turns toxic, and he feels as though his flesh and bones are burning. Leona seizes Falena by the shoulders and shakes him.

"What the hell is going on... Gaaah!"

A metallic screech fills the stadium. Pain blossoms in his ears, and Leona rushes to guard them, hands dropping away from Falena.

"Oops, sorry! Technical difficulties, folks!" the announcer apologizes. "It looks like even our equipment wants to cheer for Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team, the star player of today! Let's give him a round of applause!!"

They explode with excitement, Clapping and calling out louder than he can think.

"What a judicious young man!"

"He controls such powerful magic with ease...!"

He stands there, shocked, at the rain of adoration. Him, recognized? Respected, saluted, and seen as the wonder he is? Him?

His mind clouds.

What is this,,,?

"Leona-saaaan!!"

He turns, finding his teammates jogging over, Epel at the head. There are members of his own dorm with them--Ruggie, Jack.

"We gotcha now, Leona-san! Thought you could get away without getting your fur ruffled, huh?" Ruggie snickers, then gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Alright, fellas. You know what to do!"

"Hah, the hell is this? I didn't ask for a surprise after working my tail off."

"Sorry, Leona-senpai! Ruggie-senpai's orders!" Jack says very seriously. "This is the only way to give you a proper sendoff for carrying us to victory... You've earned it!"

"1, 2, 3...!"

"Wha...?!"

Leona is seized and hoisted into the air with a collective whoop of excitement. Tossed up, up, up. The stadium lights glaring, sound blasting.

He returns back to his peer's arms, and heaved up again. Down and up, down and up. Each pass makes him more nauseous, blinded and deafened by the dizzying joy.

"Long live the king! Long live the king!!" they chant.

The king... me? Leona fights against it, pushing as hard as he can.

But his body is tired, his mental capacities drained, his emotions worn. The situation, too sweet, too cloying.

I'm... the king... I won. This is my prize.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall.

This time, for good.

When he opens them again, he swears he sees a dark figure flying high above the stadium. Not on a broom, but floating of his own accord. A pair of horns protrudes him his head, and he glimpses a pair of ghostly white hands clapping.

One additional spectator with glowing green eyes.

"Congratulations, Kingscholar."

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cutiesgaloree · 2 years

Text

SHOW AND TELL !!

obey me! brothers x f!reader

context: fem reader teases the seven brothers by showing some cleavage!

warnings: mdni, suggestive, dubcon, some parts are shorter than others :')

reblogs are appreciated!

tags: @stygianoir

Lucifer

you sauntered into the eldest brother's bedroom, wearing shorts and a low v-cut shirt, your outfit hugging you in all the right spots

lucifer was at his desk, doing paperwork that the demon prince had once again pushed onto him

you leaned on his desk, laying yourself over his paperwork, breaking his focus

"luci, won't you take a break? you've been working so hard after all.."

lucifer merely raised an amused eyebrow, glancing at your chest threatening to expose itself and back up at you

he could see right through you

"i've got quite the amount of paperwork to get through. putting it off will be of no benefit," he said nonchalantly, waiting for your next move

shrugging, you got off his desk and skipped around it, plopping yourself on his lap facing towards him

he put his pen down and immediately held your hips, keeping you in place on his lap

"true, but such ambition should be rewarded, don't you think?" you replied, smiling mischievously

lucifer gave you those eyes (yk what i'm talking about) ;)

the hooded ones that screamed ‘ i'm gonna fuck you into tomorrow ’

"is that so?" he said, hands inching up your body, "and what might this reward entail?"

you continued smiling at him, "you'll see~"

Mammon

"CASINO NIGHHTTTT~" mammon cheered, bursting into your room

you knew it was time for you and mammon to go to the casino and have fun

hence why you were changing

and he just walked in on you...

he stared for a couple seconds before you reminded him he was staring

"h-huh?! me? staring?! a-at you? psh, yeah right!" he says, blushing furiously before slamming the door

you decided to go for formal attire

and i mean really formal

you were dressed in a tight fancy suit, the top buttons of your dress shirt unbuttoned

creating a perfect boob window 😍👍

mammon looked beet red when he laid eyes on you after you left your room

"o-oi! where do ya think you're goin' with t-that!" he yelled, pushing you back into the room

"why? does it look bad on me?" you sighed theatrically, glancing down in feigned disappointment

"no! you look too hot n i don't want anyone but me seeing you like that!" mammon blurted out before slapping a hand over his mouth and clearing his throat

"what i meant was, y-you look horrible! yeah, that's right! the suit looks down right.. u-ugly! so change into something else!" he barked, crossing his arms and huffing

"okay," you said, smirking and beginning to take off your clothes

right in front of him 😁

"woah woah woah! what're ya doing?!" he panicked, eyes wide as saucers and his cheeks redder than an apple

"well, you told me to change right?" you said smugly, "i'm simply following order from my first~ ah-!"

you squeaked in surprise upon being thrown into your bed by mammon, his face hidden in your neck, hands gripping your waist

"grr, ya shouldn't tease a demon-- unless you're ready for the consequences..."

Leviathan

it was game night for you and levi, but you'd been in the mood for something.. different.

and so you wore a short skirt and a hoodie

knocking on the door and entering after answering levi's code, the poor boy became flustered at how short your skirt was

"h-hey... you- what- why're you-?" he started, not being able to get out a sentence

you merely feigned innocence, tilting your head in mock confusion

"yes, levi?"

"uh, nevermind! it's nothing..! ugh, let's just start playing," he sighed, dropping the subject

as you two gamed, you began teasing him subtly

first, you scoot right next to him

the second he stops tensing, you lean your head on his shoulder

finally you draped your exposed legs over his lap and got comfortable, leaving him red

every touch had him jumping and tensing, but that last move made him slam the pause button

you spared him a confused glance despite knowing exactly why he stopped the game

"levi, why'd you stop the game? is something wrong?"

"n-no..! just thought we should take a break..." he trailed off

you smiled mischievously before nodding and stretching, your legs on display

now, in your new position, leviathan got first row tickets to seeing up your skirt

he gaped and whipped his head around

"h-hey! you can't just--!"

"can't just what, levi?"

turning back to look at you, his eyes widened in realization as he noticed your smirk

you had planned this all along

before you knew it, he had you pinned to the floor, eyes narrowing at you

"oh, yeah? so you think you can just walk in here and tease me?

well guess what? two can play at that game."

Satan

you and satan had been planning to have a reading session together in his room

but, of course, you'd been curious

to see what he'd look like if you just sorta...

pushed him off the edge >:)

and not in a pissed off way~

so, you wore a strapless shirt that exposed a lot of skin and cute pants that hugged your body beautifully

you knocked on his door, and upon his approval you entered

he was sitting on a small couch, reading calmly

"hello, (name)," he greeted, "i went ahead and began reading, but feel free to-- *chokes on spit*"

in case you didn't know, he did a double take after seeing how stunning you looked

"satan, are you okay?" you hurried over, bending right in front of him, giving him a great view of your chest

his eyes widened and he quickly glanced away, coughing a couple more times before clearing his throat

"ahem. y-yes, i'm fine... as i was saying, feel free to make yourself comfortable and start on your book."

you nodded and sat yourself next to him, situating yourself in a way that would be very.. comprising

he glanced at you often, a blush dusting his cheeks

"so..." he finally started after a while, "is there something special going on? i mean, you look.. particularly beautiful today, and--"

you hummed, setting your book aside before gently taking his book out of his hands and setting it aside as well

"what are you-- oi!"

satan yelped in surprise as you pulled him on top of you, laying down on the couch yourself

he gripped the sides of the couch in realization as he hovered over you

you smirked up at him and winked

that's all he needed to know before smashing his lips onto yours

you pulled him in and wrapped your arms around his neck

you two were breathless by the time he pulled away

only for him to pull you back in for another kiss

"i'll wipe that smirk off your face," he growled

Asmodeus

lmao what won't tease this man is the real question

anyways

you two were going to a party

and you decided to tease him ;)

by wearing a tight and skimpy dress <33

of course, as soon as he saw you he practically moaned

and at the party?

you were strutting your stuff, making the most of your drop-dead gorgeous dress

this man could not for the life of him take his eyes off you

a the dent in his pants became just a little more obvious

he soon dragged you into a private room

and the second he closed the door he corned you, littering your jaw and neck with kisses

"oh darling, you look absolutely hot in that dress," he said, "you wouldn't mind if i took it off of you, would you?"

Beelzebub

you had a workout session with beel soon

and you wanted to.. motivate him 😇

so you wore the most revealing athletic clothes you had and set out for the gym

beel was already waiting at the entrance when you got there

he was oblivious to your attire and you two began spotting for each other

or at least

you had thought he was oblivious

but you noticed how he had become a lot touchier with you during exercises, correcting your form even if it was fine...

his hands lingering on you more than they should...

and whenever he spoke to you, it was husky whispers in your ear that sent shivers down your spine...

yeah, he definitely noticed.

when you two finally finished, you two went to get some protein shakes at a nearby cafe before going home

of course, beel was still hungry, so you two went to the kitchen

you cooled down from your workout while he continued eating everything in the fridge (again)

feeling a rumble in your stomach yourself, you went over to the fridge

spotting something to eat, you had a devious idea

you bent over seductively in front of him as you reached down to get the food

before you knew it, beel slammed you on the counter

"hey, (name)... are you tempting me?"

you decided to pretend you were innocent

"what do you mean?" you said as sweetly as you could

"since we started our workout session, i noticed your outfit, y'know.. and then the way you bent over, you never do that," he said, eyes trained on yours

"whatever do you mean, beel?" you drawled your words, batting your eyes at him. beel groaned

"see? you're doing it again. whatever," he said, lowering himself between your legs

"now i'm hungry for something else. care to indulge me, (name)?"

Belphegor

you and belphie were gonna have a sleepover

which basically consisted of napping the entire time lmao

but today you were feeling devious

and so, you wore your most suggestive pajama set

you skipped happily over to his room and launched yourself onto the bed, hearing a muffled "oomf" under the mountain of blankets and pillows

chuckling an apology, you waited for him to surface and gave an innocent smile as he scanned your outfit, eyebrows raised in amusement

"so.. you want a last-minute change of plans for the sleepover," he said groggily

damn, he saw straight through you

"well sure," he continued, "but i don't know if this will be considered a sleepover if i keep you up all night~"

#obey me x reader #obey me x reader smut #obey me swd #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #levi x reader #leviathan x reader #asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #satan x reader #beel x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x you #belphegor x reader #om x reader #obey me smut

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jxckchxmpi0n · 4 months

Note

Prompt Angst “fuck I didn’t mean that” Ethan or Jack whichever is fine. Y/n finds him dming other girls or following other girls and they get into an argument

Let me just say I love getting these prompts and seeing the different stories you guys make behind them!!!!

On the Other Side

Ethan Landry x Reader |m.list

Summary: Ethan has been texting someone from his econ class behind your back, you shortly find out after he lets you borrow his phone. It then leads to a fight and a broken heart.

warning: arguring, angst, cursing, cheating,

word count: 1.5k

did not proofread.

It's been about six months since you started dating Ethan, and everything was great. From the dates to the sex, and to the little moments. It was great! but you couldn't understand why he became so distant; it started off small. First, it was the random bailing on you when it was date night, and that never happened. So, you didn't think much of it. but then bailing once turned into four times, it was four weeks he had bailed on you.

After the fourth time, you started to keep an eye on him, with how he was acting towards you, first, it was the cold shoulder, then it was the random nonstop love towards you, and finally, anytime you were with the group and went to hold his hand or rest on him, slowly but surely, he would push you off. It broke you, you felt like you were losing him.

Everyone was at Mindy and Anika's apartment; it was movie night with the entire group. everyone but Ethan, no one knew where he was and they assumed you knew, so when you showed up alone you just said he was at a study group and would show up later. That satisfied everyone enough to move on. About an hour in with dinner and drinking Ethan walked through the front door.

"Hey, hi, so sorry I'm late class ran later than expected" Chad, Tara, and Sam didn't pay much attention to what he had said but you and Mindy had caught that he said class.

Ethan gave everyone hugs and shook Chad and Danny's hands. Once he reached you, he saw your eyebrows furrowed, leaning down he kissed the top of your head. "what's wrong?" he backed up a little but was still hovering above you as you sat on the bar stool.

"You said class, I thought your class gets out at four, it's seven you said you had study group. That's what you told me "He chuckled lightly and shook his head. lightly his hand soothed over your arm.

"No, y/n you must have heard me wrong. I was in class, maybe you've had too much to drink" he took the wine glass out of your hand. Everyone was deep in conversation, Mindy on the other hand was listening to yours.

"No Ethan, you told me study group. Are you lying?" your voice rose towards the end causing the others to now turn to you both. "And I've had barely anything to drink because I didn't know where you were, so I was worried" Ethan stepped back rolling his eyes, his hand ran over his face. frustration was written all over it.

"You guys, okay?" Chad spoke up leaning forward in his chair. The tension in the room was thick everyone could see that.

"Not here y/n" Ethan's voice was low and threating.

You pushed him off of you, "No. No Ethan I'm done. You've been lying to me for weeks and I'm just done" You grabbed your bag and keys and stormed out of the apartment.

Ethan stood there for a second pinching his nose, anger filling his body at how embarrassing it was for you to make a scene like that. "Lying for weeks? Ethan, what is y/n talking about?" Tara's voice broke the silence.

"Um I don't know she's been acting really weird recently" Ethan grabbed his hoodie and backpack, waving his arms as he came up with excuses. Running through the front door it slammed behind him, everyone sat there confused. Their thoughts leading them into places that were bad.

"I hope whatever is happening isn't bad" Mindy sadly sat next to Anika with her food and drink.

Ethan was a few feet behind you, out of breath from running to catch up and from calling your name. "y/n please would you just stop for a minute!" He grabbed your arm pulling you back.

"No Ethan I'm done with the lies! And don't you even think about lying to me right now! I saw the texts between you and that girl from your econ class!" you voice rose as your spoke, all the emotions that have been building up for weeks finally spilling out.

"y/n please not here" he waved his arms around making you take in the environment. You were in Mindy's apartment lobby, some bystanders side-eying you as they grabbed their mail. "Can I at least take you back to my apartment, so we have privacy?" His voice was soft it seemed like he really cared for a second.

"Fine but don't think I'm going to stay for long." you rolled your eyes as you looked at him. This feeling in your gut started to form, you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

Ethan and you walked to the car in silence, no words, no music, nothing. it was dead.

Arriving at his apartment, you both were still quiet walking in. You sat at the dining room table while he went straight to the fridge and pulled out a drink. He stood behind you at the counter, just looking at you and thinking about how he fucked this all up.

You were facing the other way thinking about why he would do such a thing.

"y/n listen-" he was toying with the button on his jacket as he spoke, but he was cut off by the sound of your chair scrapping on the floor.

"Why?" you turned your body to him, your eyes flooding with tears.

"y/n please don't cry" he ran to you, on his knees looking up at you. "Look- I-" his voice breaking as he spoke. He was crying.

"Don't make an excuse Ethan. I can't handle them anymore" You rolled your eyes pushing his hands off of your legs. He stood up, looking down at you, and something about his eyes changed.

"Okay well then what the fuck do you want me to say! huh? I'm sorry, please forgive me?!" he was angry. What could he possibly be mad about he was the one cheating on you.

"I don't know maybe explain to me why you let things go on for so long! Why stay with me if you were messing around with other women!" you were both shouting and throwing your hands around.

"Oh, please like I'm the bad guy here what about the asshole from your class? Huh? What about him? Don't think I didn't notice how you flirt with him all the time!" he felt his entire body become tense as the agreement kept going.

"I never flirted with him! He was the one who did all of that! And unlike you I was loyal! Because I loved you!" tears were streaming down your face as you yelled at him. That feeling in your gut finally snapped, and the emotions started to pour out. "I put everything into this relationship, and you never put in a cent. I love you so much. And yet you run around with different women behind my back- but- why? why do it?"

His hand was resting on his hip as the other one pinched his nose. you stood not even a foot away from him, broken and confused, your arms holding yourself in a way of comfort.

"Because y/n being with you is suffocating!!" his voice was rough and stern. His eyes were emotionless for a split second but realizing what he had said his eyes softened. Looking at you he realized he fucked up.

Seeing the way your mouth twitched into a frown, the way your body jumped at his words. The sound of your feet scrapping on the floor as you stepped back. "Fuck-" he rubbed his face with both of his hands, "-fuck- I- I didn't mean that" He took a step towards you reaching for your hands.

Shaking your head, the tears flooded down your cheeks even more. "No. Don't fucking touch me!" you pushed him away. wiping the tears away you turned grabbing your purse. "I'm done, I'm done with you and all of this. I don't want to see you again. And I mean it Ethan."

"y/n no, please can't we fix this, I'll be better please" he ran after you to the door. Stumbling over his words, he knew nothing who convince you to stay, but he still wanted to try.

"No, I mean it. I gave you so many chances, I waited for you to come clean, and you never did. Like I said I loved you, you can't fix anything" You stood there in the doorway, you saw his eyes becoming red as he refused to let the tears out.

Your heart was beating so fast, burning at the rush of anger and sadness. Once you leave there's no coming back. You shook your head at Ethan, a sob escaped your lips as you said goodbye. The door clicked behind you, leaving Ethan standing there alone. Tears now finally rolled down his cheeks, and as he looked at the door, he questioned everything he had done.

He stood there regretting his words, and his actions. All he wanted was for you to come back.

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #spider socorro #avatar spider #spiderman

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vettelsvee · 15 days

Text

LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU | Mick Schumacher

f1 masterlist

mick x uni!reader

word count: 1602

warnings: mention of period cramps, reader being sick, just fluff and cute in general (i think). use of y/n y/l/n

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback is truly appreciated! <3

University was not an easy path to tread, and much less so if you were studying Medicine.

Y/N Y/L/N sat at her small desk, curled up in her chair as she gazed at the plethora of notes and books from different subjects overflowing the tiny space. With her eyes fixed on a Gynecology topic, her favorite subject, she attempted to summon concentration, failing in the attempt because it was undeniable that something was wrong with her.

The truth was unquestionable that the Swedish girl wasn't feeling well because it wasn't just the stress of final exams consuming her: her period had decided to arrive that same early morning, greeting her with a strong abdominal pain that had barely allowed her to sleep; apart from that, just a few hours after managing to fall asleep, she was awakened by sweats.

In those moments, the girl was aware that she needed to stop because she felt exhausted, the headache was getting heavier, and discomfort was increasingly present in her body. All of that was starting to take its toll on her, but she couldn't afford to give up everything when there were just a few days left until the start of the end-of-term holiday.

Come on, Y/N, she thought to herself as a sharp pain made itself known in her abdomen. You're strong, capable of this and much more.

Suddenly, as if destiny were alerting her to take a break, her mobile phone began to vibrate, indicating an incoming video call with Mick.

"Hey, Mick," the young woman responded after accepting the call, her voice subdued.

Schumacher sensed that something wasn't going well for his partner.

"Hey, love," he responded sweetly, showing concern, "what's wrong?"

Y/N sighed, trying her best to hide the truth from her boyfriend, who already had enough worries as the Mercedes reserve driver to now concern himself with a simple ailment. She timidly ran her hand over her forehead, feeling the temperature starting to rise.

"Mick, really, it's nothing..."

"Y/N," the boy interrupted her, "you have bright eyes, accompanied by quite concerning dark circles. Have you been studying all night?"

Y/L/N hated that the son of a certain seven-time world champion driver knew her so well.

"No," she affirmed, "but I'm not feeling very well. This final exam season is killing me, almost literally, because the subjects are very difficult, and I feel like I'm not cut out for what I'm studying. And also add to that that last night my fantastic period started, and if that wasn't enough, I started to get a fever."

"Have you been to the doctor?" Schumacher asked, even though he knew the answer.

"No, I haven't had time either," the brunette responded curtly. "Please, Mick, I've been studying almost twelve hours a day for almost three weeks. I'm trying to study as much as possible, and I feel less and less capable of passing the subjects."

Mick nodded, understanding.

"I get it, even though I haven't been through the same thing as you, but you can't ignore the signals your body is sending you. You come first, and even though it's hard for you to accept it and deny it to me, exams can wait."

"No, honey, no," Y/N shook her head, affirming what Mick was thinking. "I've been trying to study, but all I've done is reread the notes over and over."

"Well, then focus on resting even if it's just this afternoon, okay? Don't worry about anything, your recovery comes first, darling."

As the conversation between the couple progressed, they began to talk about more mundane topics, such as the couple's upcoming vacation destination or the status of the boy's family.

Once they finished the call, and without much thought, Mick decided to prepare a surprise for his girlfriend to help her calm down as much as possible so she could recover as soon as possible. Therefore, he left his house without explaining to anyone and immediately got into his car, heading to the nearest shopping center.

With a mischievous smile on his face as he crossed the doors of the venue, Schumacher quickly made his way to get what he had planned to buy so he could pay for it as soon as possible and then quickly get to Y/N's house. After passing through the self-checkout with a large amount of her favorite chocolates, a bouquet of tulips, and a book she had been eager to have, he put everything in a paper bag decorated with kittens and headed back to his car.

As he was on his way to his girlfriend's house, Mick thought about the surprise and joy that would bring to Y/N as soon as she saw him standing in front of her door. The young man knew that, in terms of what he could give her, it wasn't much; but he was sure that what would make Clara happiest was the thoughtfulness and effort that the reserve driver had put into it.

After parking in a nearby parking lot near the apartment building where the girl lived, Mick took the bag and his nerves began to grow, although he walked towards the house with determination. Once he arrived, he placed the bag behind his back, so it wouldn't be visible at first, and stealthily knocked on the door.

"Seriously, if you're someone here to sell me an air fryer, I don't want it, okay? I'm a humble student living off scholarships..."

When Y/N opened the door, she couldn't articulate a word: seeing her boyfriend standing there, in front of her, was certainly not what she expected on that fateful day. Her eyes filled with joy, and tears even welled up.

"Mick!" the brunette exclaimed as she gave him a tight hug. "What are you doing here?" she asked, unable to contain her smile.

After finishing the warm hug, the boy handed her the bag, which Y/N began to open quickly and took out each of the items it contained. As she unpacked, the young man went to get a vase for the flowers so they wouldn't dry out.

"Can't a humble boy from a humble family want to surprise his wonderful girlfriend to lift her spirits?" the young man said as he spoke, while Y/N fetched a vase for the flowers.

Yeah, especially humble..., Y/N muttered to herself.

"You're amazing, Mick," the girl commented, hugging her gifts affectionately. "I can't believe you did this for me despite me talking to you like crap."

The boy moved closer to his partner, taking her hand lovingly.

"Well, I guess that's what you sign up for when you start a relationship, right?" he explained ironically, receiving a playful punch in his arm from Y/N. "But that's not all: I'm going to prepare a bath for you to relax while I make you dinner, okay?"

She approved of the plan because, after trying to continue studying, she hadn't been able to carry on. Her body continued with persistent warnings, to the point where she had noticed small contractions in her chest and even slight dizziness.

With Mick's help, once in the bathroom, she undressed as the water slowly but steadily filled the tub. As soon as the university student's feet touched the warm water, she tried to forget everything during those moments, which she successfully achieved by submerging her body.

Meanwhile, the driver started preparing her girlfriend's favorite dinner: grilled salmon with soy sauce. Despite having little experience in the culinary world, he followed a recipe he found on YouTube step by step, trying not to get frustrated and following everything meticulously. Since Clara hadn't come out yet and he had already prepared everything, he decided to find a series on Netflix that they had both been meaning to watch for some time.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom wearing only a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her wet hair. If she thought her day couldn't get any better, everything Mick had prepared had immediately changed her mind. Mick just looked at her: he knew the girl was excited, and her eyes, though tired, reflected an emotion he had seen when he prepared these kinds of details.

"Come on, sit down, princess," the boy invited, pulling out the chair for her to sit. "All of this is for you, so just enjoy the food, even if it's not very good, and forget about everything."

Although her boyfriend was right and it wasn't by any means the best meal she had ever tasted, she appreciated the effort he had made to turn her day around; besides, the conversations, encouragement, support, and laughter they shared were the best she could accept from Mick.

After cleaning up the mess, the couple lay down on the girl's bed. Y/N rested her head on Mick's chest, and he gently stroked her hair. In those moments, there was no need for words or any other action to know how the other felt at that moment.

Y/N Y/L/N felt secure and, especially, calm, caring less and less about everything she had to study, Mick was aware that he was risking catching a cold, something that wouldn't bode well for his profession, but at that moment it was the least of his concerns. Minutes later, embraced by the warmth of the blankets and each other's arms, sleep invited them to join its embrace.

"Tomorrow will be a better day, especially if I have Mick by my side," wandered through Y/N's mind before Morpheus embraced her in his arms.

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ashensgrotto · 6 months

Text

Weren't You Aware, Angelfish?

Characters: Yandere!Azul x GN! Reader

Summary: You think it's a game, but it's much more than that…

Word Count: 3k

Author's Notes: A little background on this one; I actually really got into the Octavinelle Trio when the Little Mermaid event (which ran during third week of May in 2023) was going on following the live action film being released in theaters. At the time, I was also about midway through the "Merchant of the Depths" and was laughing at myself for the irony of participating in an event that matched the story I was reading. And I even received Azul’s SSR dorm card in the mirror summoning as well.

Either way, I had come across a few head cannons and short stories of if the characters were actually aware of themselves being in a game and thought I'd take my own spin on it with Azul (I know there's a lot of these ones for this character - but you have to admit, the guy's got style).

Warnings: Obsession/manipulative behaviors, some bullying elements, self-aware

***This one is a softer Yandere than what I've done recently***

***

"Oh, hey guys."

Azul blinked in surprise as a pair of (e/c) eyes peered out at him and the twins from under strands of (h/c).

It was the Ramshackle dorm prefect - and yet it wasn't.

Azul knew that he, among many others, were mere characters in a game called "Twisted Wonderland" - a battle simulation game that followed the stories of seven famous villains from a strange land called "Disney." The main character of the game was a character by the name of "Yuu," but each player had selected to choose a different name for their character depending upon their preferences and personalities - though Azul could never be certain if it was their real name or not.

This one just happened to go by the name (Y/C).

(Y/C) had appeared before them around a month ago, Azul had remembered a droning voice on speakers as the player before them shifted on a seat of metal, thier eyes looking towards the screen then away again before they closed the game. The other characters had been confused by it - usually a player would stay for a bit and work on the stories or do lessons when they first started. (Y/C), however, was shifty and nervous - they reminded Azul of a mouse that scuttled across the floors of the Ramshackle dorm, constantly stopping and looking around before continuing on its way.

However, as things progressed, Azul quickly learned that (Y/C) was indeed a diligent player.

He would hear them laugh at Ace and Deuce’s antics, mumble under their breath when they knew something was going to happen, and gap at each of the overblots as they happened. Azul quickly became interested in the player, moving to the front scenes as his turn to take the spotlight appeared. As they worked through his story, he found them to be… well, quite like him. They were crafty and cunning, all smiles and false confidence - a show they put on when they weren't alone. People fell for their charms like prey to an angular fish, their bright light luring them in until they snapped them up as per their job required. However, they struck good bargains with them - something that Azul had… never invested in.

Now, there was a special event that he and the tweels would be a part of - a special event for a revised film inspired by the life of the Great Sea Witch.

Azul looked on as (Y/C) shifted through the cards in thier possession, having selected Floyd first. They had received his dorm card about two weeks prior to the event, their excitement to raise its stats apparent in the forefront of thier mind. They filled the class, selecting Jade’s ceremonial robes card as well as Azul’s ceremonial robes card along with Cater and Rook's dorm uniform cards before heading into the class with Floyd with Azul watching on in curiosity.

"Something on your mind, Azul?" Jade asked him from his doorway, "You seemed to be watching our magicless prefect a bit more than normal."

Azul regarded his vicewarden with an arched brow, "Jade, I have no idea what you are talking about."

Jade smiled, his teeth peering out from behind his lips, “Azul, forgive me, but if I didn’t know any better… I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous?” Azul scoffed with a wave of his hand, “Who said anything of the sort?”

Jade crossed an arm around his middle as his other arm rested on top, his forefinger and thumb stroking his chin in thought, “Not that it makes any difference, but I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping quite a close eye on our player - quite the character, are they not?”

Azul shrugged, “I suppose so…”

“I bet you haven’t given a thought to knowing them outside of the game, though.”

Azul turned at the comment, his sea green eyes glowing with mischief as a tell-tale smile formed across his lips, “My dear Jade, have you and Floyd been up to something?”

Jade smiled in agreement, “Of course we have… would you like to hear?”

“I would indeed. Tell me what you know.”

Jade uncrossed his arms and folded his hands into his pockets, “Our player has only been playing for about a month, as you know well - and has obviously cleared three books of our game within that time frame. They like a good gamble here and there, but they understand when there’s a time for fun and a time for work - something you should learn in my opinion.”

“Yes, yes,” Azul waved his hand, “Whom is their current favorite?”

“It varies from day to day - though (Y/C)’s profile indicates that it is currently Malleus Draconia,” Jade answered, “However, based on their world… they do have a fascination for sea creatures.”

Azul frowned, “Their world?”

Jade nodded, “Every so often we’re given a glimpse of the player’s real world - their reality. (Y/C) currently lives with an ailing father and a mother that is trying to hold everything together. They’re a full time student in what they call ‘high school’ and works at a family restaurant part time as a waitress. They like spending time on social media, reading when not with us, and does a bit of sewing from my understanding.”

Azul rubbed his chin in thought, “Do they… play other games?”

“Several - (Y/C) has a very high social media presence and has been gaining followers over the course of several years, speciallizing in strategic battle games and, apparently, even romance games,” Jade answered, “However… (Y/C)’s very shy and keeps to themselves quite a bit. From my understanding, they’re not exactly… well-liked by the other students at the school they attend. (Y/C) often eats alone and prefers the company of fictional characters or those online to those in their world.”

“Not well-liked? (Y/C)’s well-liked here!” Azul answered in confusion.

“Perhaps, but we all eventually become attached to our player - they’re the star of their own story here, after all,” Jade agreed, “And (Y/C)’s practically the same in their world - kind, supporting, caring… but is an outcast.”

“Care to explain why?”

Jade shakes his head, “I wish I could tell you, Azul - but even I am not certain why that is.”

Azul squeezed his lips in thought before turning to Jade, “Is there a way we can dig into more about our player?”

“There might be something within the profile, but a chance at looking into the outside world? That is a one in a million chance of happening. I was given a glance when (Y/C) was using me for a battle - but it was very short. The rest of the information I gathered was from other characters - specifically Cater who has been with them the longest. You know how he will speak for a chance at gaining more followers.”

Azul chuckled with a smile, “Excellent work, Jade. For the time being, I’d like to find out as much as you can about our player - Floyd, if he’s in the mood, will probably want to know more about ‘shrimpy’ as well, get him in on the search too. Though, I suppose we can only do what we can for right now…”

***

In the days that followed, (Y/C) was consistently in the Octorio’s presence. As they met each requirement the Octavinelle Training Camp event gave them, (Y/C) beat every battle they were given and took in the rewards with vigor; their method was simple - they finished all of Floyd’s tasks before closing the game, reopening it the following day with fresh eyes and ready for the challenges that awaited them and selected Jade as their next partner. Azul watched from the sidelines as each task was completed and battle won; it was strange to hear how (Y/C) would always keep the trio together, Azul stuck in between the tweels as they switched spots. However - Azul couldn’t be completely disappointed in them; after all, (Y/C) did invite him to attend each lesson with them and the tweels.

So why was it so hard for him to not feel this… jealous anger that was slowly rising with him? It wasn't like they were anything interesting - the only thing they had in common, maybe, was the fact that (Y/C) was business-minded - even for a high schooler.

Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as cards of various characters floated across the screen; Floyd... Vil... Epel... Malleus... Trey... All of them appeared across the screen over and over like turbulant waves on the shorelines - yet none of them were of him. (Y/C) flipped through the cards again, their (e/c) eyes hard with determination.

"One last roll," Azul heard them say, "I have enough for a chance encounter - please let it be one I don't have."

The music played as the dark mirror appeared again, "Bearer of dark powers, I call thee forth!"

Azul could practically feel (Y/C) vibrating with anticipation as clacks echoed in the small area that was their bedroom. Jade... Floyd... Vil... Sebek... Idia... Malleus... Lilia... Rook...

"You're so lucky to have met a compassionate person like me..."

Azul's voice stuck in his throat as (Y/C) squealed in delight, "AZUL! Oh my GOD! I have your CARD!"

And indeed they had gotten it - Azul's SSR dorm card flashed across the screen with the octomer perched in a leather chair, Jade and Floyd just behind him with the sea witch's familiar mirror in the background. Azul was vibrating with excitement - at long last, he was now in the spotlight, appearing before (Y/C) in his finely dressed dorm uniform. The octomer was beside himself with excitement as (Y/C) clicked back on the homescreen, scrolling through their cards and smiling as they found the newest addition.

"Azul..." they whispered so softly, "I'm so excited... I wasn't expecting this... not in the slightest. I hope that I don't disappoint - I'll get this leveled up and we'll work together, you and me."

'You could never disappoint me, angelfish,' Azul wanted to say as he felt something pull him to the front of the screen. He now stood in Ramshackle Dorm, front and center as the eyes of (Y/C) looked upon him, thier features brightening.

"Thank you so much, Azul," they grinned, a look of sheer awe and excitement taking root across their face, "I'm so glad to add you to the team."

***

The event ended far too quickly for Azul's liking, meaning that he could no longer work with his player one-on-one - at least until the next training camp. For now, Azul was content to use his days watching his player as he peered into their normal everyday life.

Jade had not been lying when he told Azul about (Y/C)’s busy schedule - they awoke every morning at six on the nose, dressed and readied themselves for school - helping their mom with a few simple chores before heading out the door. (Y/C) was an intriguing student, using common sense to answer their professors’ questions and asking more in return - though Azul could hear snickering in the background and soft insults that were directed at his player. (Y/C) sat alone at lunch, the game open in front of them as they nibbled on a sandwich - keeping thier promise to level up Azul's card as they doodled in the notebook beside them. A few times, they would have a set of headphones in and would hum along with the music that would come through the speakers - making Azul strain to hear them. After school, (Y/C) would head over to one of the local restaraunts, changing into their work uniform and began the grunging job of serving guests. Azul listened as the clientel would call them over - some pleasant, others not so much; though he was surprised by (Y/C) ways of handling them, giving their best award-winning smile and working their way into their hearts to the point that they couldn't take it or dropped the subject entirely.

Day in and day out, Azul was there and listened to everything everyone told them; week after week, he saw the light slowly begin to fade from their eyes...

And by the time summer had come, (Y/C) was struggling - mentally and emotionally. Gone was the happy-go-lucky teen that Azul had slowly become attatched to, in their place was a saddened and heavy-burdened individual that sought the comfort of loniness - fictional characters were their only friends now.

One night, (Y/C) perched on their bed after a particularly rough day at work. Azul had seen one of the customers - another student that was prone to bullying (Y/C) in class - trip them while they were carrying a pot of hot soup to bring to the salad bar; regardless if it was intentional or unintentional, (Y/C) could have been seriously injured - burned from how hot the liquid was. Then, (Y/C)’s boss degraded them - telling them that if they weren't so stupid and watched where they were going, none of this would've happened; even though it was clearly not (Y/C)’s fault. When they got home, (Y/C)’s mother had to rush their father off to the hospital - something about his ailment suddenly turning for the worse and making (Y/C) now worried sick about their father's health - no longer caring about the injury they sustained and the pain they felt within.

(Y/C) tapped the screen of the game, opening up and laying their phone against a box that sat on the bedside table, watching as Azul greeted them in his normal fashion.

"Helping people is what I live for. As housewarden, I will do everything to support my students," Azul smiled in greeting.

"I wish the same could be said for me," (Y/C) sighed, laying their head against the pillow as the music of the Mostro Lounge filled the background of the bedroom.

"Hm? And why do you think I wouldn't support you, angelfish?"

(Y/C) turned to look at their phone as Azul smiled. They rubbed thier face for a moment before muttering, "I must be more tired than I thought. I thought you just said something."

"I did, angelfish," Azul's voice came loud and clear as (Y/C)s' eyes widened, "I said, 'Why do you think I wouldn't support you?'"

(Y/C) blinked, "Y-you... talked. You can talk?"

"Of course I can talk," Azul answered, resting his hands on his hips in disappointment, "What makes you think that I wouldn't? We've talked before, after all."

"Y-yes... but that was scripted," (Y/C) rubbed their face again, "I must be dreaming - just some fantastical thing because of the stress and anger I've been experiencing lately."

"(Y/N), come now, you know that's not true."

"H-how do... you know my name?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you for some time, (Y/N)," Azul answered, "I know all about you - what you like and dislike, what your biggest fears and regrets are and what you wish for most in the world. I can offer that, you know."

"Offer what?" (Y/N) rubbed their face then, "Wait a minute... why am I even discussing this with you? You're a character in a game and I live in the real world - there's no way this is happening either - this is just the rambling of a stressed out lonely teenager who gets enjoyment out of playing a game and reading fanfictions."

"I assure you, this is no dream," Azul answered, "And you're not going to get rid of me that easily either."

(Y/N) frowned, "What do you mean? What did you do?"

"Simply enough - I hacked this phone," Azul admitted, "It took a bit to figure out the workings of it, but now you won't be able to do anything unless I give you my permission to do so."

"You... what?!" (Y/N) glared at Azul, "This is my only form of communication! My only way to be someone! I use this for school! Work! Why would you do that?"

"I admire your ability and drive, angelfish, I really do," Azul smiled wickedly, "However - 'real life,' as you call it, is keeping you from me. You were hurt today and have been stepped on over and over like a piece of gum on your school's cemented sidewalks. What I am willing to offer you, in exchange for your undivided attention that is, will allow you complete freedom from the outside world. You will never have to experience that sort of degration and torement again."

"And what about my friends? My family?" (Y/N) askes, "You think I'll sign my name on a contract of yours so willingly?"

"You did the first time around."

"That was scripted!"

"Angelfish," Azul's tone turned dark, "You really have no say in this. I know your family is struggling so I'll modify the contract, only for your sake though. As for your 'friends,' you really have none in that world - I have been with you for the past two months, constantly watching you and, yes, protecting you. You might not see it now, but you will in due time - besides we're the same age, are we not?"

"Close... maybe," (Y/N) admits.

"Then, what's the problem?" Azul folded his arms across his chest, "Sign the contract - and I will give you everything your heart desires."

The screen shifted as a familiar golden hue appeared on the screen.

"Here's the deal, Angelfish," Azul's voice appeared in the background, "In exchange for your undivided attention, I will grant you - and your family - the funds needed to help you both financially and comfort. You and family will want for nothing and I will provide support you your ailing father. You will belong to me completely, and when such a time arrives that the two of us are old enough, we will be married."

(Y/N) looked over the contract on the screen, biting her lip.

"And you promise I will be able to stay with my family? Still see them when I want to?"

"Yes - it would be improper for the two of us to live together as I will need time to prepare for that event. However, you will not be able to tell anyone about this arrangement - unless you wish to lose your voice in the process."

"N-no thank you."

(Y/N) could practically see Azul's grinning features, "Then, Angelfish mine... sign on the dotted line. Let's embark on this new adventure... together, just you and me."

#twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere #twst azul #tw: yandere #twst #tw: bullying #tw: obsession #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #tw: manipulation

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thelightsandtheroses · 3 months

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six. even the iron still fears the rot

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter summary: the past comes back to haunt you leading to a drastic decision. Chapter warnings: angst, discussions and flashbacks to descriptions of cults, religion and cult behaviour, past emotional abuse, love bombing and manipulation, the cult leader is a dangerous person, one instance of physical violence, guilt, PTSD , there is the very briefest allusion to homophobia (not direct), flashbacks, discussions of death and canon typical violence, passing mention of being an orphan, breakups, reference to pregnancy (reader is a single mother). Reader has a backstory but no physical descriptors. Word Count: 4.4k Notes -This is a big chapter, beginning a plot I have had planned for a long time and that I was so nervous about. I must thank the lovely @joelsgreys encouraged and supported me to write this idea from the start. The chapter title is from Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain (who can you believe I only discovered last week?!) Also I changed the image aesthetic a bit as I've loved seeing some other fics with this sort of three pic moodboard recently.

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“We need to talk about the Junction.”

In seven words, Beau and Sean have swept away every sense of security, of hope, of foolish optimism from you.

None of you speak as you unlock the library with shaking, sweaty hands. It takes three attempts to put the key in the lock, you can hear a strange sound, almost like an injured animal in the distance. The three of you walk in.

You lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as you try and centre yourself before you can look at your best friends’ faces.

“What’s happened?” you ask finally. "Why are you bringing up the past?"

Now is not then, you tell yourself. You are not that person anymore - you are a mother, you are stronger, more resilient. You repaired your cracks with gold. You are whole, you are different, you are you.

The Junction has no idea what they’re facing. If they’re here. If this is happening.

Sean reaches into his pocket and produces a small piece of paper. There’s a design on it, simple but familiar.

“Tommy and Joel found this less than five miles away on patrol. It was carved onto a tree.”

“Carved?”

“Yeah, so they took a sketch of it. They were asking around the Tipsy Bison about it, wondered if had seen the symbol before - knew it wasn’t Fireflies or FEDRA, guess it worried them. They showed it to me,” Beau says flatly. “I wondered if it was them, so I went straight to Sean. He said - he said it was, or he thinks it is. We need you to confirm it though.”

“It’s them, isn’t it?” Sean asks, his voice soft and eyes desperate for you to say no, to stop this nightmare in its tracks.

You can’t say it. You can only nod, meeting your best friend’s heartbroken eyes reluctantly.

“Scouting symbol,” you say quietly. ‘He designed it as a code but he designed a lot of things like that, I didn’t expect much would come of it at the time. I guess -” You pause. “If they’re nearby then it sounds they lost the settlement and have been moving around. I can’t remember exactly what the symbol was meant to mean, but it was definitely for scouting, or to mark - to mark something.”

You thought you would have more time. Time to build something with Joel, to watch Gabriel become the man you know he will be. You had started to hope, to dream.

Dreaming has always been dangerous.

You’ve been on borrowed time for seventeen years.

You expected to panic, to feel more anxious or upset. You had thought you’d sob, fall apart on the floor like you have before, burn with the agony of it all. There’s ice running through you instead and a cool detachment. You don’t recognise your voice, don’t recognise your body. You’re gone, an observer watching a stranger so far away from reality.

“How soon can we get ammo, get supplies?” you ask.

“You can’t think we’re going to outrun this, sweetheart. Not when they’re less than five miles away,” Beau says, shaking his head.

“We’re fucked,” Sean whispers, “less than five miles this morning, they could be - shit. We can’t even run, can we? We’re fucked.” He looks down at his hands, rakes his hands over his hair.

Your past has finally come back to haunt you.

You should have just told Gabriel the truth about his father. You should have told him where you took him away from.

You should have told him a lot of things.

2004

“We are at a moment right now where the only thing we can do is change. The old ways failed us; we let our hate, our differences, our selfishness dictate our lives and we have all paid a price for this. In our loss, in their names, we stand at a junction and we have a choice right now. Will you listen to me? Will we move forward together and carve a new path, take the route to peace and away from the horrors we have seen?”

The world’s changed a lot in the last six months. Pandemics, death, a whole new dictionary where abbreviations like FEDRA, QZs mean something now and some many words have become redundant. There’s been a lot of death. Survival, that feels like the best outcome right now, living feels like something impossible.

They’ll find a cure soon. The smartest people left in the world are working on it.

They’ll find a cure soon. This can’t go on like this forever.

They’ll find a cure soon. There’s no other option.

One day in a year or two, you’ll look back on this with Sean and giggle. Do you remember the winter of 2003? Do you remember when we had to live in a QZ and when mushrooms became sinister for a short time? It’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, huddled around a fire and after a long and normal life. You’ll go back to cinemas and dinner at restaurants, to finally getting broadband installed, to a future. There will be scars, of course, but society will move on before you’ve even recognised those.

Humanity will survive, it will endure this. You have to believe that.

There are rumours though - rumours of life in and outside the QZ being lawless, of the loss of society, that humanity isn’t thriving right now.

You had different plans for this year. You didn’t expect to be in a small one bedroomed apartment with Sean. You didn’t expect to be an orphan - or an assumed one at least. Maybe they’re still alive. You hope they are, hope their flight made it to their location, that Cordyceps isn’t so bad over there. You wonder what their lives are like - a two-week vacation that’s turned into months. You’ll laugh about this with them one day.

You live in denial because it’s easier. Because one day this will be all a bad memory. You’ll be back on the path towards the life and career you were working towards, and the months spent picking up shifts in a laundromat and community kitchen to live in a run-down building will soon be a distant memory.

You meet him on a Tuesday. You’re at the laundromat and reading a battered library book, enjoying this rare moment when you’re alone, when he walks in.

There’s something about him that immediately commands your attention. He’s tall, muscular and carries himself with confidence.

“Hi,” he says, noticing you watching him. “Haven’t seen you before.”

You nod, placing your book down quietly. “There’s only one dryer working, I’m afraid.” You’re not sure if there’ll ever be more than one dryer working at this point - there’s a shortage of parts and tumble dryers are hardly a priority right now. The one working dryer will just become a Frankenstein of other machine parts, of hope and duct tape until it finally dies. Maybe there will be a cure by then though.

“That’s no worry. I’m Ethan,” the man replies with a faint smile.

You say your name in response and he repeats it like he’s trying to store it in his memory. You feel exposed, perceived in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

You suspect though. You suspect that somehow an axis has marginally tilted, a change has occurred.

You don’t believe in love at first sight. Life isn’t like a movie after all, or if it is, then right now it’s only a horror film. You don’t believe that you can just fall someone instantly. Or you didn’t.

It’s magnetic, his energy, his charisma. You love how his voice sounds, the way his hair falls slightly into piercing eyes. He speaks with care, looks at you like he really cares what you think to his words. He reminds you of the men you’d fantasise about meeting while in college. You thought you’d just wander into a coffee shop on your way to your next seminar and there he’d be.

Even here in a dingy and dirty laundromat, you feel those butterflies.

You’re sure you’ve never met anyone like him before and you have a sense that you will never meet anyone else like him.

You have no idea how right you are.

“Is it a church thing? Really?” Sean asks, taking a gulp of water before leaning against the kitchen sink. “I thought you said after your parents -”

“I don’t think it’s really religious,” you say, “Ethan told me it was more about a sense of self than anything theistic. It’s like a support group from what he said.”

“Thought you hated therapy.”

“Yeah, well, then the world ended.”

“Touché. Can’t you go alone?”

“I could, but I don’t want to,” you say, a teasing smile as you meet your best friend’s eyes. “I want you to meet Ethan. Tell me what you think.”

You need Sean to meet Ethan because it feels like Ethan could be important. You want Sean to like him, to approve of him. You need to him to.

“I don’t know, hon, it sounds - I don’t know what it’s about.”

“Sean, it’s just a workshop, what harm could it possibly do?”

Sean cocks an eyebrow and sighs. “Fine, we’ll check it out. How bad can it be?”

Famous last words.

“The Junction is here. Humanity has failed in our mission, but it isn’t all lost. We can start afresh, become something better. Every one of us in this room has hope, has what is needed to rebuild our world to save us. The threats of cordyceps, of violence cannot stand in our way … we must not let these evil forces win.”

It starts so slowly. You become friends as he frequents the launderette more and more. You get to know each other..

You’re not what sure to expect from his workshops but his words are compelling. He makes sense. What he says is rational - until it strays into something else, but it’s still got that root of logic. He’s just stressed, you reason, more people are talking about the workshops.

You fall for him.

He brings you a bunch of roses to the laundrette. Roses.

You haven’t seen roses since the outbreak, you’re not sure anyone has ever bought you flowers like this. You have no idea how he’s got them, but he’s got them for you.

He’s so smart, so compassionate and it’s more than that, he really listens to you. Falling in love with Ethan is the easiest thing in the world. You hadn’t spent much time dating before the outbreak, had been too afraid in the immediate aftermath. You think Ethan might be the first man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

He starts to invite to sit with him at his workshops, places an arm around you when you speak in sessions. You swell with pride because out of everyone, he’s chosen you.

So you drag Sean to more workshops, you bring friends from your apartment building. You want more people to hear Ethan because he’s changed your life. What else could he do for people?

Time passes. Ethan’s language starts to change again. It’s starting to shift from collective processing of the trauma, the unceasing horror of the last year to something different. It’s less about you all and more about Ethan, about his visions and him. Ethan knows the way through the Junction.

He’ll lead you all through.

It’s your fault really, what happens next. You set everything in motion. You’re almost mugged on the way home from the launderette one night. His next workshop talks about the pain of this post-cordyceps world, of the way FEDRA encourages lawlessness to steer us from the right path, towards evil and ruin.

He says that the QZ is actively fighting against you all need to do. It is fighting for the wrong turn at the next junction. That can’t happen. You can’t raise a family here, make a life, not when society continues to fall apart in front of you. You’re scared walking to your apartment at night now, so you think he must be right. There’s the possibility of something better with him.

So when Ethan says maybe it’s time to leave the QZ, you think he might be right. Of course you’d go with him, where else could you go? You beg Sean to come with you, you’re terrified he’ll die when the QZ falls otherwise.

That’s another mistake.

2005

“The thing is, it’s not about cordyceps. Not really. That was only the vehicle to lead us here, to show me the way forward. We must build afresh here. I have been spoken to and I know this - this community is the only way humanity survives. I will lead us to ensure that humanity is not lost. We had to leave the QZ because the agents of chaos and evil were there, they knew what we needed to do, they knew my mission. We have a chance here. We have a chance here to grow and survive and thrive. This is my mission, our collective goal. The Junction will succeed where FEDRA failed, where the old ways. I received a message; we’re heeding it by being here. The hard work is being done now. The Junction is the future.”

The Junction move to what was once a gated community many miles outside of the QZ. It’s self-sufficient to a point, with high walls, generators, and access to facilities. In some ways, it’s almost like a miniature QZ- it’s better though.

A former resident suggested the location to Ethan and he said he knew right there and then it was where you all need to be. He said it was a sign; that he was told everyone needed to be there.

It’s going to be idyllic. That’s what he’s promised. It’s what you believe.

You love him.

You marry Ethan on a summer’s day to the entire Junction as witnesses. You are so in love, you don’t see the looming clouds, the storm ahead. It’s a whirlwind romance, a sign of hope in this terrifying world. Your relationship, he tells you, is a symbol for all of his followers, it’s the lynchpin to keep your community together.

You read through his notes, they’re less like inspirational words and more like sermons now, but he says that’s fine. He says he’s spoken to the Divine . It’s his duty, his destiny. It’s yours to help him too.

You believe he is a good man. It’s your responsibility to help him lead everyone through this mess.

You love him.

When you’re in love you can excuse things though. Those subtle language shifts: we to I, debates on decisions to instructions, the focus on how you represent him as opposed to how you feel, what you want.

The pressure starts to constrict around your neck just a little. It’s all becoming too much, you’re not Ethan, you don’t know how to be a leader, or a leader’s wife.

You take every note he offers in the spirit of self-improvement , tweak every behaviour to get things right. Ethan needs this from you.

The Junction needs this from you.

You need to do better.

You love him.

And if you notice the way Sean’s brow furrows every time you speak or see him now, the way he shakes his head sometimes, or the way he opens his mouth but doesn’t seem able to say the words he wants to, you put it aside. He’s struggling to adjust - that’s all.

It has to work here. If it doesn’t, you know you will die outside the Junction, that the QZs will already be falling. Ethan tells you he’s heard on the radio numerous have already fallen. You can’t find the same messages on the radio when you try alone though. You believe him though.

You’re the last stand for humanity.

This is the only way.

Ethan is your only option.

You are so in love with him.

Time passes. There’s a bad harvest, the seeds don’t take. Ethan says, it’s a sign the group’s faith is false, that they are somehow poisoning the group. Ethan becomes obsessed with the fact he needs to root the traitor out.

You’re not allowed to proof-read his speeches anymore, not involved in his congregation. He won’t discuss his beliefs, his visions with you.

You are in love with him though.

His eyes on you feel searching, scathing, and sinister.

You start to feel scared; a twisting sense of sickness and fear that perhaps this, this isn’t going to be okay. This isn’t just an intentional community, is it?

You have doubts about Ethan too, about the glint in his eyes, about the way he sometimes talks about Sean or other congregants, about you.

He doesn’t like you leaving the house these days because you keep saying the wrong things, keep unintentionally undermining his views. You stop answering the door to Sean, you listen to old radio broadcasts and wish you could be a better wife. A better believer.

After one sermon, he breaks the radio by throwing it against the living room wall. Your world becomes so much smaller again.

The doubts are getting louder now. Maybe the Junction is … no, that word belongs in movies and tv shows, in a time that’s long since passed. However, maybe it’s not what you thought. Maybe Ethan’s not what you thought.

It’s just … you really do love him, right?

“Is it you?” Ethan asks, eyes wild and desperate. You’re not sure what’s happened; one second you’re in your kitchen, sitting at the table and talking to him and now you can feel the cold wall against your back, Ethan’s hot breath so close to you, the feel of his hand on your hair. “Are you the reason why? Are you the reason why this is falling apart? You don’t believe, do you? It’s you, it’s you. You’re a curse, you’re a goddamned curse.” “Of course I believe, of course I do.” “You’re lying.” He’s right about that. Ethan is not who you thought. The Junction is dangerous. You need to leave. You know this now. You don’t want to die here. You don’t want Sean to die here either; you bought him into this mess, the two of you need to leave this place soon. Alive.

Jackson, WY, 2024

There isn’t much of a choice. You need suppliers, weapons, a plan before you can even think about leaving Jackson.

Beau’s right - this isn’t something you can outrun. It isn’t as simple as it used to be. Gabriel’s too old to be told he’s going on an adventure and cheerfully tag along without question - it was hard enough getting him to leave Kansas.

There’s Joel too, Ellie … you don’t know what to tell them.

You know that Jackson isn’t safe with the looming threat of the Junction. You’ve built a life here; a home and you want to protect that.

Besides they could already be here, you think, mentally running through every trader or newcomer you remember seeing in recent weeks.

“Is everything okay?” Gabriel asks softly, sitting next to you on the faded couch. “Beau and Sean seem … tense.”

“They’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Gabriel frowns, looks away.

You could tell him. He’s sixteen. You could tell him the truth. He wants the truth.

You can barely live with it though; barely live with your own part in it all. You proofread his sermons. You want to give him a father that’s safe, a memory of a good man. Not a deranged, dangerous cult leader.

The air is thick with smoke. You can hear the flames consuming the wooden building, can hear people yelling in the distance. Your distraction failed. There’s a gun in your hands, aiming at him. You can’t stop shaking. “Just - just let us leave,” you say desperately. “You’re my wife.” “Ethan -” “You’re pregnant, you think I didn’t know?” Your panic heightens. This is the reason you’ve been desperate to escape with Sean, to find somewhere else ... you didn’t think he knew. “I won’t let you go like this. I won’t let you take a child from me. My child. They’re going to - when he’s born, everything will be okay again.” No. Ethan cannot be in your child’s life. You cannot raise a child in a cult. You raise your hands once more and pull the trigger.

“You know I love you, right?” you ask your son.

“Mum,” he groans, sounding out every syllable - the epitome of a teenager, ”Of course I know that.”

“Good, I’d do anything for you, kid.”

Love.

It’s a strange word; a weapon, a revelation, a lullaby. You grew up with messages about soulmates, about princesses finding their Prince Charming and happy-ever-afters. The world changed; those views were exposed for their naïveté more than ever. It became a dream. Something for other people, not you. Then you met Ethan and love became real, tangible. Dangerous.

You didn’t want that type of love again. Relationships were casual, you kept detached, held something back.

Then Joel stole your goddamn bench and ruined everything.

You feel an ache in your stomach as you watch him working on the porch of an empty house. The mailbox says it belonged to the Bensons, you wonder where they are, what became of them, who will move to this house one day.

“How is it?” you call.

Joel looks up and over at you, a smile widening.

You want to drink in every detail of Joel, commit every freckle, the feel of his fingers on your skin, the sound of his voice as he talks to you, the way he looks when he wakes up … every single part of him.

“Hi,” he says lowly, wincing slightly as he stands up. “It’s in pretty good shape actually - just the porch here needs some work.”

“Wow,” you say, aimlessly swinging your hands as you move closer to him.

“How’s the library been?”

“I wasn’t there today,” you say, honestly, “I had to help Sean.” Not that either of you achieved much. You were in the greenhouses and spent most of your day planning, panicking, and pacifying your anxieties.

There were no immediate solutions to the situation you’d found yourselves in so none of you slept much last night as the worry permeated your mind. Except for Gabriel, perhaps - your beautiful son, the reason you needed a better plan.

Well, there are other reasons too.

Joel touches your shoulder gently. “You okay, sweetheart? You look -”

“Don’t, don’t you finish that sentence, darling,” you say in your breeziest voice.

Joel frowns slightly, furrows his brow.

“How’s Ellie?” you ask, desperate to get this conversation back on track.

“She’s good. Gabriel?”

“I think he has a girlfriend,” you admit, giving yourself just a moment of normality. “Or boyfriend. I think he’s dating, regardless.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh, he’s got the signs.” It pulls at your heart; your son won’t want to leave Jackson. He’s building a life here. A decent one.

You were starting to do the same.

“I am not looking forward to that with Ellie,” Joel admits.

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? You’re worried?”

“Who doesn’t worry?”

“Touché.”

“So, what’d I owe the pleasure of this visit to?” he asks, honey sweet as he slips his hands around your waste, leans close to you, his lips on the edge of your collarbone. “not that it isn’t a highlight of my day.”

“Just wanted to say hello.” You feel the heat of his breath as he chuckles, kissing you briefly.

He smells like soap and the outdoors. There’s a lingering hint of mint, of firewood too.

“That works for me.”

He guides you against the wall and as he works his way up your neck, to your jaw, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin, you wish it could be different.

You want to stay here in this moment, or at least you want to stay here with Joel right now.

They could already be on their way.

“Joel -”I love you.

The words hang in the air, unspoken but clear. He must know, surely?

“Yeah?” he asks, looking at you carefully.

“I don’t think this is working anymore.”

You know you shouldn’t look at him, but you owe him this at least.

His face crumples; confusion, shock, uncertainty. You watch how he works through every moment before shaping his expression into something blank, a look you haven’t seen him wear before.

“Why?” he asks gruffly.

“I just think we need to pause things.”

“Is it because of what happened with Ellie?”

“No, no, not at all,” you say in a panic, remembering the stern conversation you’d had after Ellie’s suspicious accident.

Joel is in the kitchen with his arms folded, flannel rolled up to his elbows and his scarred, tanned skin exposed. “Total honesty […] that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

Joel was right and he deserves honesty, he deserves someone who can tell him their truths, but you can’t. Not yet.

Not when Gabriel doesn’t know, not when you fear the inevitable judgment on Joel’s face. You helped him edit his sermons, you married him, you didn’t see it until it was too late. Ignorance doesn’t excuse complicity to you though.

You need to protect Ellie too, protect Joel, protect Jackson as well as your family. The Junction would be so dangerous to them - they’re an invasive species, they see something habitable and they would take it over, spread the rot from inside. They might already be doing that.

You can’t be with Joel right now. You just can’t.

A thousand words sit at your lips; you will yourself to give him some sort of explanation, some sort of better parting. When you’re dead, he’ll remember this. maybe it’s better this way. You ruin yourself to him now so he doesn’t have to mourn you, so you’re not another loss or excuse to shut his heart away. You are committing a kindness to him and incomparable damage to yourself because you do love him. You do, you love him in a way that terrifies and soothes you all at once. You feel like it’s been years and decades but maybe Joel is the right person for you at last.

You will not damn him to mourn another lost love though.

This is a kindness.

“I’m sorry,” you say flatly and you step off the porch and away from him, unable to look back in case he disappears.

It’s for him, it’s for him, you’re doing this for him, for Ellie, for Gabriel, for Sean and Beau. This pain is your penance.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul@pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable@iamskyereads@genetics4life@everyth1ngfan@frickatives@perennialdoll247@joelsgreys@pedrobaby@missladym1981@noisynightmarepoetry@picketniffler @titlee78

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed@pedrostories@hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic #fic: your hand in mine

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callsignfate · 7 months

Text

Valeria x Chaotic wife pt.5

(Hi, I just wanted to say thank you for all of the likes and attention people give this series! It means a lot because, honestly, I'm new to Tumblr, and I started writing (publicly) for a hobby. Thank you, and don't worry, I have no plans to end this anytime soon. Enjoy!)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five

Part Six/ Part Seven/

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N: I'm tired.

Valeria: I told you to go to bed last night. You don't NEED to sit on your phone for an hour or more before you go to sleep.

R/N: ...I do it's a part of my process to fall asleep.

Valeria: At least it's not bluey anymore.

R/N before you say it, it's not a kid show. It tackles serious topics.

Valeria: for kids sure.

R/N: You watched it too!

Valeria: And if you ever tell anyone that I will deny it, then never let you leave again.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: Do you really need another one? You have like a hundred and I'm pretty sure I've seen that exact one.

R/N holding another squishmallow: This one is different it has a hat!

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: Did you finish the last five books you bought?

R/N: Sort of...

Valeria: READ THE BOOKS YOU BUY BEFORE YOU GET MORE.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: Let's go to- what are you doing?

R/N: What?

Valeria: It is almost midnight and you are drinking an energy drink?!

R/N: They taste good..

Valeria: You are either going to kill yourself or me way younger than I want either of us to die.

R/N: ...Want one?

Valeria: NO I DONT WANT ONE!

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria's men: MA'AM YOUR WIFE SHES STUCK ON THE ROOF

Valeria: I left her with your for 5 minutes! How in god's name did she scale the building and get stuck on the roof IN FIVE MINUTES?!

Valeria's men: We don't know we turned our back for like a second..

Valeria: (cursing under her breath in Spanish as she gets up from her desk to go help you down from the roof)

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: With the amount of trouble and situations you get yourself in.. I'm genuinely surprised you're alive.

R/N: Oh, me too, I think it's like a super power.

Valeria: I wouldn't call it a superpower, but alright.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: Why is there a ton of games downloaded on my computer?

R/N: ...

Valeria: What is wizard 101??

R/N: A game where your a wizard.. and you have to go to different towns and do different things..

Valeria: ...tell me.. do you do these things with the intent to annoy me? Or just do it and think 'no, Valeria won't care if I delete files to download A WIZARD GAME'

R/N: I'll take avoiding this question for 500.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

R/N helping Valeria with paperwork: GOD THIS IS BORING AND DRY. Can't their be some hot woman or man in this?

Valeria: It's finance paperwork not one of your dark kink romance books.. which is starting to make me wonder because some are about Mafia or Cartel leaders...

R/N: Intresesting because (R/N sprints away)

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: I'm trying to work.

R/N: and I'm trying to annoy you while you work to get you to stop working so we can do something.

Valeria: ...

R/N: Anyways as I was saying, then Edward says 'this is the skin of a killer bella' and honestly it's kinda fun-

Valeria: ALRIGHT WE WILL GO GET SOMETHING TO EAT.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Valeria: Why are my men saying your doing something stupid?

R/N: That's incredibly rude of them, I'm not doing anything.

Valeria: Then unlock the door and let me in.

R/N: We both know I can't do that.

Valeria: and why's that?

R/N: I tried to see if I could do this trick where you get your handcuffed arms from behind you to infront of you..

Valeria: You handcuffed your arms behind your back again?!

R/N: ...help.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

#valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria cod #valeria x reader #valeria garza #mw2 valeria x reader #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x you

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my-autism-adhd-blog · 5 months

Note

I've been researching for months and think I'm on the spectrum. My dad is diagnosed ADHD and my mom shows a lot of signs of being Autistic. I brought up that I might be on the spectrum but my mom dismissed it by saying she has the same/similar sensory issue. I don't know wether I should keep looking into it or not considering they told me to stop, any advice?

Hi there,

It’s up to you if you want to keep pursuing a diagnosis. If you’re really curious, there are some online tests I’ve found.

I like these since they show how intense your traits are. I’ll leave links in case you want to try it. I know online tests can be unreliable, but I think these are a good start if you’re wondering if you’re neurodivergent.

I hope these help. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#inbox #inbox reply #inbox is open

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sports-on-sundays · 9 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 1

Warnings : Mention of death, Mention of sex, Mention of marriage between a minor and an adult (spoken about as a bad thing, not a good thing), Mention of forced marriage, Switching between second and third perspective, Charles acting a bit spoiled maybe.

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - A prince has seven princesses brought to him, and must choose which one he wants to marry.

Author's Note : I've had ideas like this circulating through my head for quite a while, so I figured this would be something good to start my blog off with, especially since I think it's another idea that a lot of other people might enjoy reading. I'm just starting out my blog, so if you read this and you like it, I would really appreciate if you would hit my ask box and request something to support me and help me get going! And of course reblog and follow would be kind too <3 Thank you, and I hope you enjoy my little story.

Requested? : No.

There are six other princesses travelling by chariot today as well, also headed to the same exact castle you're heading to.

When your father, the king of your small island country, told you that the prince of one of the largest countries nearby was sending in for all the single princesses, both you and your father had a plan.

Unlike a lot of countries, yours is just fine with having a woman rule as queen, by herself, so since your mother passed away in childbirth, and you're your father's only child, you've both basically decided that getting married into some other kingdom's royal family is just about the last thing you want to do.

Apparently, this Prince Charles, who is twenty-five, your age, has been being pressured ever since he was eighteen by his family. The story is that they keep trying more and more ladies from all different countries and families, but every single one he sees he quickly dismisses after meeting them, rejecting every single one.

Which, you figure, means he's a spoiled little ungrateful brat, like many of the royals from surrounding kingdoms and countries. Not surprising.

For seven years, his mother and eldest brother have been searching all over for the woman he'll finally accept. Of course, searching only in royal and noble blood.

So now, they're bringing in seven more princesses to see if he'll accept any of them. You're generally not worried about this conceited prince wanting to marry you, but just in case, you and your father have ensured that there's no chance he will.

So you sit in the covered royal chariot, wearing a plain white dress, a men's cloak, your hair very simply down over your shoulders, and dirt smudged on your clothes and face.

Even though it's not your most favourite outfit, it's worth it to avoid at all costs being forced to court with... someone like Prince Charles.

You're sure he'll be disgusted.

Which is good.

You've met all the princesses that will be arriving as well, and you're sure most of them will be more interesting to a prince such as Charles. Apparently, to them, he's known as the most handsome prince around. All of them would be delighted to marry him, and are surely putting forth their best for the prince.

You're sure he just uses his good looks to fake a charming personality, so people like him. That's what all the princes do, but then when you really get to know them, it turns out their personality is really quite devilish in the end, and it was just an act, a show, to get you interested in them.

Soon enough, the chariot you're in stops, and your driver gets out, holding the curtain for you as you lift your skirt to jump out. The driver offers his hand to you for help, but like always, you ignore it and hop out yourself. It's not like when women jump we break our ankles or something. My goodness. You know deep down inside they're just trying to be honorable and kind, but still.

You look up at the castle. It looks very basic, like many other castles you've seen, with it's tall pillars, carved images, and glorious towers reaching up, slicing into the bright merry blue sky.

"Would you like me to walk up with you, or send a servant to go with you, up to the door, Your Highness?" asks your driver with a very low bow.

"No thank you, but I appreciate the offer. I can handle walking by myself. Just carry on."

"Yes, of course, Your Highness," he nods, briskly, with agility, hopping up into the chariot.

You turn away from that, and start walking down the cobblestone path that leads to the third courtyard, which leads to the main gates. When you get to the gates of the third courtyard, a guard grunts at you, not even realizing that you're one of the princesses, because of your means of arrival and presentation, "What's your business here?"

"I'm one of the princesses to meet Prince Charles today," you say simply.

He narrows his eyes. "No, you're no-"

"Listen, guard. This was a message sent only to the princesses, no? How could anyone else know about this? If you do not allow me to enter and go to the castle with all the other princesses here today, I will order my men to go against you in an instant!"

The guard's back straightens. "Right, then, Your Highness! Please, show mercy, and forgive me for my misunderstanding! I'll lead you to where you need to go immediately!"

"You're forgiven. Now, yes, take me there. And let's get this over with."

Charles reclines in his velvet red couch, leaning back as he stares up at the sparkling gold chandelier with a heavy sigh. There's a knock on the door to his room, and he calls, "Who's there?"

His older brother, Lorenzo, enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "Charles, come on now. I thought you were supposed to be getting ready." He ruffles his brother's light, fluffy, tangled hair. "My goodness, Charles, you need to get this cut and washed before you meet the princesses. And clearly you are in need of a shave."

"I don't have to have nice hair or clothes for every last one of those ladies to fall deeply in love with me. In fact, half of them probably are already deeply in love with me," replies the younger with an eye roll and a scoff.

"Charles, you know you have to look more presentable. Stop with all the excuses. Get up now."

"Is Mama gonna cut my hair?"

"Charles, you're just going to have to get it done by a servant. I'm sending one in to get you fixed up now, okay?"

Charles nods, sitting up more with a sigh. "Yes, yes, Lorenzo. Now be on with your day, now, won't you, King?"

"Charles," he says, looking back from the doorway with a sigh. "Do one thing for me, please?"

"Another thing?"

His brother, the king, ignores Charles' little comment and just says, "Please choose your princess today, Charles. Please. Choose the best one for you. I've been trying to give you responsibilities for so long. I think having a lady may help with your..."

"My what? My goodness, Lorenzo, be out of my presence already! Please!"

And with a sigh, the elder brother listens to the younger's order and leaves him to be by himself.

Charles gets up and walks across the room, stopping in front of his mirror to look at himself. His hair is a little tangled, but he doesn't mind it. He always thinks it makes him look better. It reminds him of how he looks after he's won a race, pushed his horses to the limit, with the wind and dust blowing dirt up into his helmet. He's never minded a little bit of danger, and a little bit of dirt. And a little bit of fun.

Yet a part of him loves to look nice, too, for these girls. Not because he's trying to attract any of them.

Maybe just because he feels so strong in those buttoned coats with gold lining, big, black boots, with a beautiful sword at his side.

Maybe all this talk of marriage and pressure to fall in love is a pain, but by now, would he want it any other way?

It's strange the way you get used to the things you hate, so much that you almost start to like them.

The six other princesses sit as far away from you as they can. Naturally, they're disgusted. Not that you care. You figure it's better like that. This way, maybe their sweet perfume won't make you smell any better.

Even the guards in the room seem extremely confused and unimpressed by you.

Which is just fine. It means that hopefully the prince will feel just the same.

Soon, a servant comes in, saying quickly, "I'm sorry for the wait, Most High Ladies of the Land. Our highly respected and honored Prince Charles, the second heir to the throne, after King Lorenzo, may he be honored forever, is still preparing himself to meet you beautiful ladies. I can assure you all that he is very excited to meet you all. Forgive us for the wait."

Of course he's taking long. He's probably quite vain. Just like these girls surrounding you. Quite vain, you know. You can't help but smile to yourself as you ponder upon the fact that perhaps this vain, conceited, self-centred prince could potentially get along quite well with these girls. Prideful people often seem to enjoy the people who are much like themselves, after all, right?

Soon enough, though, they start taking the princesses, one by one, to come and meet the prince. The princesses here are from ages anywhere between fifteen and twenty-five. You realize that the younger one's time meeting Prince Charles is much shorter than the older ones, and even then, the longest time before the servant comes to fetch the next princess is at most fifteen minutes.

Of course, they save you for last. Which you're happy about. After seeing all those beautiful princesses, you're sure Prince Charles will be even more disgusted with you than he would've been originally.

You stand up when the servant gestures you to come, and you walk next to him down the hallway. When you make it to the end of the hallway, there is a small passage with stairs leading up. "I am sorry to tell you that Prince Charles' room is on higher floor. Would you like me to carry you up the stairs, Your Highness?" The servant asks with a bow.

"My goodness! How do you treat your women in his kingdom? What a meeting this shall be with the prince! By the name of God, servant man, no. I can walk up a flight of stairs just fine on my own two feet."

"Of course, Your Highness!" the servant says quickly, and you start walking up the spiraling staircase. You don't doubt that all the other princesses accepted the offer to be carried.

The hallway at the top is much nicer than the one you were just in. It has red carpets, gold lining, and windows all across one wall. You pause to stare out them. They overlook the huge capital city, and you think about all the little common people down there, working for their lives.

It's such a sad concept. While you're up here, worried about having to meet a prince, there are people down there worrying about staying alive.

It's not right. And when you're queen of your island, that's what you want to fix. In your country, your father has it all set up for you.

You want the people to be happy and content.

"Your Highness?" the servant says. "This is Prince Charles' room."

You nod. "Thank you."

"I'll be waiting outside here if either of you need anything."

You nod again, and slowly turn the knob to the door, before stepping in, closing the door behind you gently with a quiet click.

You have never been in the bedroom of a prince before.

There's a huge window overlooking a beautiful bright bluebody of water, which you assume must be the ocean. On the wall is a breastplate and two swords. There's a large wooden wardrobe with beautiful carvings all over it, and sitting on top of it are two helmets- one look's like a knight's helmet, shining with steel, and the other a horse racing helmet with red streaks painted on the sides. Next to the wardrobe is a painting hanging on the wall of a young man with dark shaggy black hair and a playful smile, wearing the elaborate outfit of a king, despite not having the looks of a typical solemn painting of a king. There's a wall with lines of different kinds of plaques and trophies on shelves, glass doors covering them. Prince Charles has a huge grand, wooden but painted white, piano. His huge bed has curtains surrounding it, and next to the bed is a little nightstand. There's a huge desk with parchment and ink sitting on it, and there's a soft red rug over the floor. Hanging on the wall is a large, beautiful, tinted, full body mirror. There is a large empty fireplace, and with it a red velvet couch and matching chair. Next to these pieces of furniture is a table on which a map, a compass, and a bowl of fruit sits. The whole room smells like sweet, calming incense.

And then, after viewing the room, you turn to view the much less interesting prince. He looks like every other. Sure, his face is exceptionally handsome compared to the others, but who cares? He's not that glorious. He wears a tall black shiny boots, red pants, and a long white double-breasted jacket unbuttoned with gold buttons and gold furnishing. Underneath his coat he wears a soft looking poet shirt. The whole outfit fits him quite well, and compliments his thin, lean, but very strong figure nicely.

But the best of his outfit is the sparkling gold crown upon his head. It shines with all different kinds of lovely colorful sparkling jewels. You can't help but think about how heavy that must be on his head.

His brown hair is nicely styled, his eyes bright, and his white smile likely fake.

But the smile quickly vanishes as he can't help but express the surprise on his face when he sees you. "H- Hello," he says. "You are...?"

"Princess Y/n. It's nice to meet you, Prince Charles." You curtsy.

"Nice to meet you, too, Princess," he says with a quick bow, obviously trying not to express his emotions on his face. It's hard not to laugh at this. At this little rich prince trying to hold it together. He takes a step closer to you. "How old are you?" is his first question. He speaks with the accent that it seems many people from this country speak with. You can't help but wonder to yourself if this country has it's own native language.

"Twenty-five, Prince."

He nods. "Me as well. What kingdom are you from?"

You tell him about the island kingdom you come from, and, as expected, he doesn't end up having ever really heard of it much. "How far off the coast are you?" he asks.

"It took half a day to sail here."

He nods once again. "Alright... Uh, why don't you sit down here next to me," he starts, walking to the velvet couch, "and I can tell you a bit about myself, if that's okay with you."

"Of course, Prince. Go on," you answer as you sit down next to each other on the couch. You look over his nice appearance once again.

"I'm the second son of my father, may he rest in peace. My elder brother is king of this country, and my younger one, Prince Arthur, rules nearby conquered land. Me and my wife would be the rulers of a section of land that we have just won over in war, across the river."

"So you're telling me that regardless of being older than your brother, he rules more than you and has a wife, while you don't?" You really couldn't care less. You're just trying to make him dislike you.

He clenches his jaw and says, "It's just taken a little longer for me... I guess."

"Why do you think that could be?"

"I... well, Princess, so far in my life, I've chased after things besides ruling and marriage."

"Right," you say simply.

"So... tell me about yourself. What... makes you... you?"

You can't help but softly chuckle at that question, as the Prince's eyes look you up and down. "Well, isn't this meeting really only about two things?"

"Two things? I'm sorry?" he asks in confusion.

"Whether the princess' beauty suits your tastes, and whether she'll be good to make you your babies."

He stares, wide eyed. "Wow... egh, you're honest, now, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am," you respond with a shrug.

"Right..." is all Charles says, at a loss for words at the princess' way of speaking. This is the first princess that's been so... blunt with him.

And he realizes perhaps this is why he has been avoiding marriage for so long.

He'd rather not getting married to a woman for her intense beauty, and only use her for sex to have his children. He doesn't even want children. Or a wife.

He really just wants to be for himself. Adventure. Have fun. Make the most of life.

"So, Prince Charles, you said you've been chasing after other things besides marriage and ruling? I'm curious to know what."

He swallows. "Really, my lady, it should not matter. I'm really leaving that old life in the past." Or at least trying. Really, every part of Charles hates to think about leaving that life in the past. It's a life he loves.

But, as everyone seems to say to him, Charles, you're not a little boy anymore. You're a grown man at twenty-five, and it's pathetic how little you've got done in life.

To them, what Charles has done is pathetic. To Charles, what he's got done is success.

"I still want to hear, Prince Charles."

Charles sighs. He figures it doesn't matter if this girl knows or not. He's sure no one would want him picking her, anyway. So who cares if she has a strange view of him? "I love chariot racing. It's my passion. I love it so, so much. See those trophies in that case? Those are from racing. I love the adrenaline, and the danger. I love the speed. That's one thing. I also love music. I play on that piano all the time. I'm not interested in getting married... I mean, I guess I can be kind of romantic, but I don't want to get married for the reasons everyone says I should. They always bring me these women that all seem to act exactly the same, with the same clothes, same personality... And then they get annoyed at me for loving none of them. They try to put me in armor and get me to fight if I'm not going to marry, but that's never turned out either. Even though I have the strength for it, I don't want to do it. I don't want to go out on battlefields and shed the blood of other men. Maybe that makes me a coward, I don't know. Maybe it makes me 'not a man'. I don't know. But I can't help it. It's just the way I am."

The look on this princess' face seem to be a mixture of extreme curiosity, regret, worry, and empathy. Which is confusing.

"Prince Charles, I'm sorry. You're very unlike many princes I've met. But I think you're just fine."

"I'd say you're quite unlike all the princesses I've met. And I think you're fine, too. The bothersome thing is that I basically have to choose one of you seven today. By the way, Princess, usually I wouldn't be saying this. But I just can see that you aren't like the rest. I can tell I can trust you."

"Why do you have to choose one of us now?" the girl questions.

Charles sighs, glancing down at this rug. "I don't want to make this seem like this is any of my family's doing. They love me, and want the best for me. But I have advisors put in place, that in a way have authority over me, and have told me if I don't choose a princess today, then they'll choose. And I know who they'll choose. There's a princess in a very, very large kingdom very nearby, and they've been waiting until she turns fifteen. She's fifteen now, and I'm sure they'll force me to marry her, because having a marriage with a kingdom as big as that is just wise, when it comes to government. But I am not marrying mere girl who is ten years younger than me. There is no way."

She nods. "That's... That's good. Very wise. There are lots of princes I know of that would do just that. So I respect your decision in that very much. But I suppose the best thing for you to do is to just choose the nicest out of those girls to marry. It's a hard situation to be in, though. I'm sorry for you."

"Are you really a princess?" Charles asks, looking the woman in her eyes.

"Yes, I am."

Charles reaches over and wipes a smudge of dirt off her cheek with his thumb, before holding it up in front of her. "What is this all about then?"

"I didn't want to doll myself up. Just like you, I don't want to marry, really. I'm into other things that are uncommon as well."

"Like what, Princess?"

"Well, racing as well. I like hunting with my bow and arrow. I love swimming, and going for walks, and gardening. Most people think princesses always enjoy indoors more, but I love the outdoors. And luckily, in my kingdom, I'm allowed to spend my time outside. I don't like singing or dancing or reading or knitting or doing makeup or dresses or anything, like most people expect princesses to."

Prince Charles suddenly takes your hand and says intensely, "I have an idea."

You narrow your eyes at him, feeling suspicion sink deeper within you. "What...?"

"If neither of us want to marry, then if we married each other, then we could get along more. Like, I'm not saying we fall in love. I'm just saying if neither of us are willing to fall in love, then we marry each other."

"I see your point, Prince Charles," you start, "but it's quite selfish, what you're planning. While you're being forced to marry, I'm not. So while for you it would be a step up, for me it would be a step down."

He continues to hold your hand, though. "I would let you live in your country and rule it as you please. Please, Princess Y/n. It would be... such a favor for me. Seriously, the only time you'd have to see me is when we're invited to dinners and what not."

"Oh, yes, the only time I'd have to see you is for dinners, and as well, perhaps, to come to bed with you to give birth to your heirs! Prince, I do not-"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What? It's rude to interrupt."

"I've stopped trying not to be rude by now! Just let me ask my question!"

"Go on, Prince Charles."

He sighs, giving your hand a little squeeze. "Do you realise that if you want to protect your own kingdom, and keep it as it is as well, that you're going to need an heir?"

You swallow.

What a terrible, awful turn this has taken.

You should've just dressed and acted like all the other princesses.

But you had no idea that Prince Charles would be so...

Such a square peg in a round hole.

Much like you are.

This time you squeeze his hand, which is very, very smooth, and would feel nice, if it weren't so sweaty at this very moment.

He barely whispers, "Please."

He's so desperate.

What will your father say?

You suppose you'd just have to explain the whole thing to him.

"Listen, Prince Charles," you say, slipping your hand out of his, standing up. "I do not want to marry you. I ask you not to marry me. But I understand your point of view, and I understand that I should expect that regardless of what I've said, you still might choose to marry me."

He stands up with you. After getting to know him more, he looks much more handsome than he did in the beginning.

And then he says something shocking. "I think you're beautiful."

You stare, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, what?"

He reaches over and wipes the other smudge of dirt from your face. "I think you're beautiful."

"How? I went out of my way to look ugly."

"It's your personality that shines through those lovely eyes of yours."

"Wow... Thank you, Prince... You weren't lying when you said you were... romantic. Although you know if this is some way to manipulate me into wanting to marry you, I'm sorry. I've got my mind set on no."

He shakes his head. "That's not what I was trying to do. I was just telling you that... Showing you that... No matter what you do to your appearance, I still thought you're beautiful."

You stare into those bright green eyes, and for a moment, there's a little pit in your stomach. But not a bad one. Like there's something flying up within you. You take a step closer to him, and say, "Prince Charles, you are a very special person. You really are. To see past all the makeup and dresses and perfumes, and look for the one with the personality you like the most? That's extraordinary."

He gently puts his smooth hand to your cheek and says, "You've got to be special as well. After all these years of seeing all these ladies and princesses that I could choose to marry, and you're the first one I have any kind of feelings for. Your humility is so admirable... You just want to be there for your country. You're amazing."

You swallow, nodding. "I don't want to marry, but out of all the princes I've met, you're the only one I would marry if I had to."

"You're the... You're the princess I would marry, and I have to."

You sigh. "I beg you not to say me, but I understand, fairly enough, you're looking at your own best interest. So if you... If you end up having to say me, please let me be there for your country."

"I'll say you, but I'm putting a lot on the line."

"Like what?"

"If my advisors don't like you, which is likely, they'll make me marry the fifteen year old, likely. But it's worth it. I think putting so much on the line is worth it to be with a lady like you. Because I know I won't meet another princess like you. They likely won't even let me, though, so you're probably safe."

And suddenly, your heart softens as you look at his longing eyes, and you say gently, "Prince Charles, say you'll sleep on your decision. They'll have us princesses stay at this castle for the night. In the morning, I'll make sure I look just like the others."

"Cover up your beautiful face with all that makeup?"

"Just so your advisors accept me."

He stares, wide eyed, before suddenly hugging you.

"Oh my goodness," you breathe.

"Don't tell anyone I've hugged you."

Hugging is reserved for, in tradition, only those who are courting or related to each other, so this in a way fills you with guilt, because you know how much people would look down on you if they knew he was hugging you so tight.

You smile to yourself, though, and hug him back, even tighter.

Who cares if they look down on you?

Prince Charles steps away out of the hug, before bowing to you, taking your hand, and kissing it, before saying, "I suppose you should leave now, Princess Y/n. I'll see you later."

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