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octoberclidan · 1 year

Text

I'm Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: Could you do a Dean x reader, where the reader is seriously injured on a hunt. She and Dean never really got along before, always bickering with the other. But she sees a whole other side to him, freaking out and concerned. Insisting on helping clean her up after the hunt? You’re seriously my favorite author ❤️

Masterlist

Story

[Y/N] and Dean Winchester did not get along. They didn't consider each other friends. To her, he was her best friend's grumpy older brother. To him, she was his little brother's annoying best friend. They just had a lot of friction whenever they were in the same place at the same time, and had for years. She didn't live far from the boys, and Sam would often invite her to the bunker for movie nights, food, research, or just to hang out. Nearly every time, Dean would either stay in his room the whole time, or make an excuse to go out somewhere. On the rare occasion that he would stick around, like he had to several months ago for Sam's birthday dinner, they bickered. Nothing big ever happened between them to make them dislike each other, they just had very different personalities. [Y/N] didn't like how closed off Dean was, or how he constantly sacrificed himself for Sam. She knew how much it affected Sam every time Dean threw himself in danger without just taking some time out to think. He was too impulsive, and never listened, or even asked for the advice of those around him.

Dean didn't like [Y/N]'s positive attitude. She always assumed they would win fights, that everything would work out fine, and he felt that this attitude meant she could be pretty careless on hunts. She had never faced monsters as bad as the Winchesters had. Sure, he had seen her take down werewolves and vampires, ghosts and ghouls, even a demon or two. She had never fought against an angel though, never mind Lucifer himself. She had never had to deal with an apocalypse, or God himself working against her. He felt like her carelessness would eventually end up with her dead. He also worried that her carelessness would eventually lead to Sam being hurt. He never approved of Sam going on cases with her for this reason.

[Y/N] was relaxing on her couch in her little apartment, a blanket on her lap, reading through a novel she'd picked up that morning. She'd had a self-care day; a nice walk, stopped by her favourite cafe in town followed by a little trip to her favourite book store, ordered take out from her favourite restaurant, then spent an hour with candles lit in a hot bubble bath. She was really getting into the story when her phone rang and pulled her out of it. Grabbing her phone, she saw that Sam was calling her, and she answered immediately.

"Hey Sam, what's up?"

"Hey, is now a good time? I have a favour to ask".

"Yeah sure, what is it?"

"I need you to go on a case with Dean". [Y/N] exhaled heavily and closed her book, setting it down beside her and sitting up straight.

"Why?" She asked.

"Well, he found this case and he won't pass it over to another hunter, he's insisting on going".

"I thought neither of you were going to look for cases while your leg was still healing from that shifter case last week?"

"He came across it by accident, or at least he claims to have. Look, I can't go with him with my leg, I still can't walk on it properly. It sounds like a werewolf, there were two victims last week found with missing hearts. Can you please go with him? No one else is free and he said he'll go on his own if I can't find someone to join him".

[Y/N] sighed before answering. "How far away is it?"

"Two days?" She could imagine his grimace as he said this. Two days in a car with just Dean, which also meant having to stop somewhere and spend the night, and she definitely wasn't willing to spend money on an entire motel room just for herself on a hunt that she didn't want to go on.

"You're paying for my room. And you owe me one. No, make that two. You owe me two".

"Thank you. Thank you [Y/N], you're the best. He'll pick you up from your place in the morning, okay? Probably 7am".

"Fine"

"I'll see you when you're back, keep me updated".

"Yeah yeah, okay. Night Sam".

"Goodnight [Y/N]". With that, she hung up the phone. Putting her book on the table in front of her, she pushed back her blanket and stood up; self-care day was over. She packed her hunting bag and left it by her front door, and set out her clothes for the morning before getting into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

***

Just before 7am, [Y/N] locked up and left her apartment, heading out to see if Dean was there yet. Spotting the Impala when she walked around the corner, she felt apprehension and took a deep breath before walking up to the driver's side. She knocked on the window and Dean looked up, and she didn't miss him rolling his eyes, when he nodded to the seat beside him. Walking around the car, she opened up the passenger seat and slid in beside him. "Morning". She said, but he just nodded and pulled away from the kerb. Several minutes in, she tried to make conversation again. "How's Sam's leg?'

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" He asked, not really paying attention to her as he was changing lanes. Trying not to let him get on her nerves too early, she took a deep breath and tried again.

"How far are we driving today?"

"About 14 hours. We'll be driving through a small town around 12pm, we can stop then for a quick lunch. There's another town a few hours after that where we can make a quick stop if we need. Should get to the motel by 10pm. We'll probably be doing another 9 hours or so tomorrow but I have a timeslot booked with the coroner's office for 4pm so we'll have to leave pretty early in the morning".

"Right, well that's a lot of driving. Are we taking turns?" Dean scoffed at this suggestion and glanced at her as if she'd grown an extra head.

"No way in hell are you ever driving my Baby". He shook his head.

"Dean, we can't do this case separately, we have to be a team".

"We can do the whole teamwork thing when we get there, not a second before. Now, shut your cakehole, I need my music to concentrate". He turned up the volume of the cassette tape that was playing, and [Y/N] decided it was best not to push him any further this early on in the day. She pulled up the hood of her hoodie and folded her arms, turning away from Dean and leaning her head against the back seat, she was going to try and get some more sleep since there was nothing else to really do.

***

Four hours into the drive [Y/N] wasn't able to sleep anymore. She had woken up to find that it was a hot day, no clouds in sight with the sun glaring in through the windows. She had shrugged out of her jacket and pulled her hoodie off, completely missing the way Dean looked over at her as her t-shirt rode up, exposing the side of her waist. She threw the jacket and hoodie into the back of the car before pulling her t-shirt down, and Dean swallowed and shook his head to clear his thoughts before focusing back on the road. With only about an hour left until they were stopping for lunch, [Y/N] pulled out one of the books she'd brought on werewolves. The book had originally come from the bunker, Sam had given it to her before her first wolf case a couple of years before. She had only been on a few werewolf cases since, so she needed to brush up on her knowledge and not give Dean any more reasons to doubt her skills.

"Alright, hope you're hungry". Dean said as he pulled in beside a diner. They'd entered the small town just after noon and had been looking for a place to stop for some food.

"Think they have pie?" [Y/N] asked as she reached over the back seat to grab her hoodie, causing her t-shirt to ride up again. Her question caused Dean to look over to her just in time to catch a glimpse at her bare waist again.

"What?" Dean asked after clearing his throat, [Y/N] looked over at him.

"I was just wondering if they'll have pie here". She said, then pulled on the hoodie.

"Oh... yeah, well they better". Dean cleared his throat again before letting himself out of the car and heading towards the diner, [Y/N] following behind him.

They sat opposite each other in a booth and each ordered a burger and fries. Dean flirted with the waitress, and [Y/N] was a bit caught off guard with his smile as he flirted. She wasn't used to seeing Dean's smile considering whenever he was looking at her it was usually with a frown or a glare. His smile lit up his entire face; the crinkles beside his eyes made him look kind, the freckles on his nose made him look younger, and his green eyes sparkled as he used a cheesy pick-up line. "What?" Dean asked, looking back at [Y/N] making her realise that she'd been staring.

"Sorry, nothing". She said and busied herself by looking down at her phone to send Sam an update. They spent their meal glued to their phones, not talking at all. They each ordered pie to take back to the car with them, and set off on the next leg of their journey. The next town that they were going to stop in was another five hours away, so [Y/N] took back out her werewolf book and began to read through it.

"Sam tell you about the case?" Dean asked about thirty minutes into the drive.

"Oh, not really, just mentioned that it looked like werewolves".

"Were you gonna ask me about it or just go in blindly and hope for the best like usual?"

"What do you mean 'like usual'? We've been on like five hunts together in total".

"Yeah, and on each of those hunts you were wreckless. Sam aways comes back from hunts with more cuts and bruises when he's with you than when he hunts with anyone else".

"Oh so I'm a bad hunter? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah, I am. You run into situations without thinking first, you don't watch your partner's back. It's dangerous to hunt with you".

"Dangerous, really? And how many time have you died Dean? How many times have you run into a situation without stopping to think? How many times has Sam died while with you? Because I've never died, and no one I've hunted with has ever died while on a hunt with me either". Dean glared at her, bringing up his deaths were one thing, but bringing up Sam's got to him.

"How about I fill you in when we get to the next town. No more talking in the car". He said, loosening his grip on the wheel after realising his knuckles were white from gripping it too hard.

"Suits me". [Y/N] angled herself away from Dean and went back to her werewolf book.

***

It was evening when Dean pulled into another diner, and neither of them had said another word. They made their way into the diner and ordered their food, [Y/N] ignored Dean's flirting with the waitress this time in favour of checking her phone to see how much farther away the motel was. It looked to be a four hour drive away, though it would probably be less with Dean's driving. She had been texting Sam throughout the day, complaining about Dean's behaviour, but Sam could only apologise and sympathise. Dean cleared his throat while they were waiting for the food, pulling [Y/N]'s attention up from her phone. "So the case. Two bodies were found last week, local law enforcement is chalking it up to an animal attack, but there was a witness who said they saw their friend being attacked by a 'monster'. Both victims were also missing their hearts. Like I said before, tomorrow when we get there we have an appointment with the coroner's office. I say you take that on and I'll go talk to the sherrif and see if there was anything else unusual about the scenes. We'll need to interview the witness at some stage too, maybe after the coroner's office you can do that, don't think examining the bodies will take long". He kept his voice down as the waitress came over with their food, and Dean wasted no time in tucking in.

"So you wanna do everything separately?"

"No, I'm just saying we'll be driving all tomorrow morning and most of the afternoon, so we need to get the interviews and stuff out of the way early. We can meet back at the motel when we're both done and hunt the thing down together".

"Why do we need to examine the bodies? Animal attack and missing hearts is plenty of evidence".

"Need to see it for ourselves, can't trust these small towns, you have to assume there's corruption and lies everywhere".

"Is that your motto for life?" [Y/N] asked while bringing some food up to her mouth.

"Look Sweetheart, this is my case. You're just here to help. That means you listen, you follow, and you do as I say. You have a problem with that, you can find your own way home and I'll do this on my own. Do you have any real questions about the case?"

"Nope". [Y/N] no longer felt like continuing the conversation, she just wanted to finish, get in the car, and get to the motel.

"Good". Dean finished his drink and made his way over to the waitress, presumably to try and get a number while [Y/N] finished up.

***

It was dark when they got to the motel, and [Y/N] was tired. She knew Dean had to be too after driving all day, so she was looking forward to getting some sleep. She was waiting in the car while Dean was getting the rooms, and when she saw him walking back to the car he did not look happy. She got out and gave him a raised eyebrow and he sighed. "Only one room. Come on". Dean grabbed his bag from the car and started walking towards a room, [Y/N] quickly grabbing her bag and following him. Dean groaned when he walked into the room and [Y/N] knew exactly why when she walked in behind him; there was only one bed.

"They don't have any rooms with two beds?" She asked, dropping her bag down onto the couch.

"They said this was the last room. I'm paying, so the bed is mine, you can have the couch". He said as he laid his bag down on the bed, laying claim to it.

"You sure you and Sam are related?" She asked, folding her arms and facing him.

"What?"

"He's just so nice, and thoughtful, you know? Selfless, giving, kind. A gentleman, some may say". Dean just scoffed and muttered something under his breath before sitting down on his bed. [Y/N] shook her head and grabbed her pyjamas, a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and headed to the bathroom. She decided that a shower would be good to wash away the annoyance at Dean she felt building up, and thankfully the motel had hot water. She washed, dried off, and dressed herself in her pyjamas before heading back out to Dean. When she opened the door he looked up, his eyes immediately drawn to her bare legs before scanning her body up to her wet hair, subconsciously licking his lips. She felt herself blush and she cleared her throat before walking over to the couch and pretending like she hadn't just seen him check hed out. She suddenly felt self-conscious in her choice of pyjamas, and pulled out a blanket from her bag to cover herself with.

"We'll uh, leave at 5am". Dean said and [Y/N] just nodded, lying back as Dean took his turn in the bathroom. She was asleep before he came back out.

***

It was 3pm when they arrived at the next motel the following afternoon, having stopped off for a very quiet and awkward lunch earlier. Luckily, this motel had two rooms, and they got changed into their FBI outfits separately. The plan was for [Y/N] to visit the coroner's office and check out the bodies, then go and interview the witness. Dean was going to the sherrif's office to talk about the investigations and find out if anything else unusual was happening, then check out the places where the victims were attacked. The coroner's office was beside the sherrif's, so Dean was going to drive them both there. When [Y/N] stepped out of her room, Dean was leaving his room at the same time. She couldn't help but admire him in his suit; as much as they didn't like each other, she couldn't deny that he was extremely handsome, especially in the afternoon sun with the way the light caught in his eyes. They were going to be apart for a couple of hours at least, something she was grateful for.

***

They met back at the motel later that evening to exchange information, and they were both certain now that it was a werewolf. The victims knew each other well, they were close friends, and, according to the witness, another one of their friends had been acting strange for a couple of months. They had his address, and they changed into more comfortable clothes before heading out. "You got silver bullets, and a silver blade? Or do you need to borrow some?" Dean asked before pulling up to the suspect's house.

"I have my own, thanks".

"That's surprising".

"I'm sorry, is this not the point where the teamwork starts?" [Y/N] snapped at him.

"Let's just get this over with". Dean sighed as he got out of the car. Once the two of them had all of their gear ready, [Y/N] went up to the front door of the house while Dean pressed himself to the side of the house, out of view of whoever opened the door but ready to charge in if needed. The door opened to reveal a tall, lanky man, he actually looked a lot like Garth except he had red hair.

"Hello?" The man asked, looking down at [Y/N].

"Hi! Mr. Lynch, is it?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm hoping you can. I'm a reporter working for a small news website, and I heard that two of your friends were killed last week in an animal attack, I'm very sorry for your loss". [Y/N] gave him a sympathetic look but the man looked uncomfortable rather than sad. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind just telling me about them?"

"I uh... now's not a good time. Sorry". He went to close the door but [Y/N] stuck her arm out to stop it and smiled up at him.

"I'll be around for a few days, why don't you give me your number and we can work out a better time?"

"Oh, alright I suppose". He said as she took out a little notepad and a silver pen from her jacket pocket. The moment he took the pen he yelped and dropped it, stumbling back into the house and giving [Y/N] an opportunity to step in and hold her knife up to his throat.

"Did you kill them?" She asked him, staring into his eyes. His hands were up beside his head in surrender, and he stuttered out his response.

"It..it was a-an accident. I-I swear!"

"[Y/N] there's a second one!" Dean's voice boomed behind her in the doorway and she snapped her head up to see another man growling at her. The distraction gave Lynch time to push her hand holding her knife back up towards here, nicking her neck and forcing her backwards. The both leaped at her, clawing at her shoulder and legs. She managed to plunge the silver knife into Lynch's chest while Dean had grabbed the second one. When she looked up to try and catch her breath, Dean had already stabbed the second man. He grabbed Lynch and pulled his body off of [Y/N]. She winced with the change of pressure, and looked down to see a lot of blood coming from both her shoulder and her leg. "Shit, [Y/N] you're hurt". He leaned down to take a closer look at her but she shook her head.

"Check the rest of the house... make sure there aren't more". She was still trying to catch her breath while applying pressure to her leg. Dean was torn, he wanted to check her injuries but he knew she was right, they could still be in danger.

"Don't move, I'll be right back". [Y/N] let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding as she watched Dean run up the stairs. Her leg was throbbing and her shoulder was stinging, she was never going to hear the end of this from Dean. After only a few minutes Dean was back, rushing towards her. He knelt down beside her and moved her hand so he could see her leg, then he moved his eyes up to her shoulder. "We need to get you to a hospital, come on". He moved to wrap an arm around her shoulder but she jerked back.

"No, no hospital. Just help me get back to the motel, I can stitch myself up".

"Are you serious?"

"Dean the nearest hospital is hours away, just bring me to the motel, please". She looked up at him in confusion, she didn't see any anger on his face, only concern mixed with panic.

"Alright, come on, I've got you". He moved closer to her and this time she let him pick her up. She grabbed onto his flannel, the pain in her leg striking her again as he stood up. "Shh, you're okay, we'll get you cleaned up". He had a pained expression as he looked down at her, the distress on her face overly evident. He opened up the passenger door and set her down on the seat before shrugging off his flannel and tying it around her thigh in an attempt to help stop the bleeding. She whimpered under his touch and he watched her eyes close, so he quickly tapped her cheek. "Hey, hey you know the drill, no falling asleep. You're fine, okay? You just need to stay awake for me". She opened her eyes again, looked up at him and nodded. Quickly, he ran around to the driver's side and drove them as fast as he could to the motel.

He carried her into his room in the motel and set her down on the bed, holding her shoulders for a few seconds until she had her balance sitting at the edge. "Can you bring me your medical kit?" She asked him, but he shook his head.

"You're not stitching yourself up, I'll do it".

"I can do it".

"I know you can, but I can do it faster since I'm not injured. Please let me?" He opened up his medical kit and set it down beside her on the bed before kneeling down in front of her.

"Okay". She grumbled.

"Okay, thank you. I'm gonna have to get those jeans off you to get to the gash on your leg, is that alright?" He asked as he pulled her shoes off.

"Yeah, yeah go ahead". She felt light-headed and it was taking all of her concentration just to stay sitting up. She had to admit it would have been difficult to stitch herself up, she was glad that Dean was doing it for her. She braced herself as Dean untied his flannel from her thigh and pealed her jeans off, wincing as the movement of the fabric agitated her cut.

"Sorry". He mumbled as he took out alcohol and wipes. "This is gonna sting, you ready?" He asked looking up at her. She had never seen such a genuine look of concern from Dean directed towards her in all the years she'd known him. She nodded and gritted her teeth as he poured the alcohol over the cut and wiped it clean. He was surprisingly gentle, and the pain was numbed slightly as she was distracted by the concentration on his face. He took out a needle and thread from a suture kit and got to work. The cut was deep but it wasn't very long, so Dean didn't take very long to stitch it up. He applied a bandage to it before looking back up at her. "Let's have a look at that shoulder". He helped her take off the hoodie she was wearing along with her t-shirt, leaving her sitting on the bed in her underwear. Noticing that she seemed uncomfortable, Dean made his way over to his bag quickly and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. "Uh, you can wear these, since your leg is done".

She smiled and mumbled a 'thanks' to him as he helped her get into them, rolling them up at the bottom since they were too long. Dean patched up her shoulder and also cleaned the little nick on her neck before closing up his medical kit and grabbing a spare t-shirt from his bag, which he also helped her into.

"You're a good patient". He chuckled as he sat down beside her.

"You're pretty good at cleaning up injuries".

"Lot's of practice". He shrugged. "You uh, you were good out there today". She looked at him for any hint of sarcasm but she couldn't find any. Noticing her confused expression he elaborated. "We weren't expecting two, but you were good with that Lynch guy, I mean you got him while they were both attacking you. I'm impressed".

"I'd be dead if you weren't there".

"I guess I'd be dead too if Sam hadn't insisted you come with me. This was definitely a two person case".

She had an urge to ask him why he was suddenly being nice to her, but she didn't want to push him. "Yeah, well, I'm glad it's over and we're both okay. I'll see you in the morning?" Shs asked as she went to stand up. Immediately realising it was a bad idea when she put her weight on her cut leg, she lost her balance.

"Woah, where are you trying to go?" Dean caught her as she fell backwards onto the bed.

"My room?"

"You should stay in here tonight, let me keep an eye on those wounds. That cut on your leg is pretty deep, I want to make sure it doesn't bleed through the bandage".

"Where am I going to sleep?" She asked, looking around the room and noticing that there was no couch, just a chair and the bed, and there wasn't exactly enough floor space for either of them to fit on.

"You've never shared a bed with Sam while out on hunts?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, well, yeah I have, but he's my best friend". She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of sharing a bed with Dean.

"Well, I don't snore as much as he does". He winked at her and on a whim, leaned his hand over to pat her not-damaged thigh. When he didn't take his hand back, [Y/N] also went out on a whim and leaned towards him more, chancing a glance down at his lips knowing he would see her do it. Taking her hint, he leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to hers. Her hand slid up his chest and into the short hair on the top of his neck, while his grip on her thigh tightened and he moved his other hand to her waist. He licked her lower lip and she let him in straight away, deepening the kiss. Her free hand made its way to his bicep, feeling just how strong he was as the hand he had on her waist slipped under her shirt. She felt him smile into the kiss before he pulled away and leaned his forehead on hers.

"What was that for?" She asked, keeping her eyes closed.

"You scared me today, I thought I'd lost you". He said as his thumb stroked her waist.

"Would you really care if you had?"

"Would you care if you'd lost me?" He asked, and she didn't respond straight away.

"Yeah, I would. I care about you, Dean. You've never let me in though, you've shut me out since the day Sam introduced us".

"I shut everyone out. Everyone I love ends up dead eventually". She opened her eyes and saw that his were still closed, and she saw a tear escape from one of them.

"I'm not going anywhere". She whispered to him as she wiped his tear away, causing him to open his eyes and stare back into hers. "Come on, help me into bed". She smiled at him and he nodded, letting go of her to stand up and pull the covers back. He helped her slide in before getting in beside her. He lay on his back and opened his arms for her to lay her head on his chest, while he pulled her in tight, careful not to put any pressure on her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head as she yawned. "I'm not going anywhere". She repeated. With her now safe in his arms, he was actually looking forward to the two day drive back home.

The end.

531 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 11 months

Note

Hi there i have been reading your blog for an hour now and im obsessed. Your writing is amazing. May i please request gn! Mc who was just in a fight, and got badly injured, but doesn’t care. So they ask the demon/angel there yo cuddle?

Im so so so sorry of this doesn’t make sense im very tired xD

Preferred characters you can ignore this well the entire request too xD (lucifer, satan, belphie, dia, barb, and simeon)

Here is a cat to keep you company his name is mr. Whisp 🐈

Hello there!

Oh thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! (Also thank you for Mr. Whisp I love him.)

Okay, so I wrote these as little scenes instead of the usual bulleted list style, I hope that's okay! They did end up a little longer because of that, though. I did it that way because you requested specific characters and it's easier to write little scenes for fewer characters rather than all of them.

Thank you for the request!

GN!MC gets hurt in a fight, but doesn't care and just wants cuddles with Lucifer, Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon

Warnings: MC is hurt! Bruises, blood, general injuries, talk of fighting.

Lucifer

You were standing in front of Lucifer, summoned to his room after he inevitably heard from several of his brothers about the state you were in. You had shown up at the House of Lamentation covered in scrapes and bruises. They all noticed how you were walking with a slight limp and the dark circle that was forming up under one of your eyes.

You had considered blowing him off when you got the message on your D.D.D. that he wanted to see you immediately. You didn't really feel like listening to a lecture about getting into fights. And yet you knew that if you put it off, it'd only be worse later. And secretly you wanted to see him.

Lucifer was observing you with a dark expression, clearly looking over your various injuries.

You kept your arms folded, chin up, and said, "You wanted to see me?"

He didn't say anything at first. You weren't sure if this meant he was so angry he couldn't speak or if he was just trying to make you nervous.

"Explain," he said at last.

You sighed. "I got into a little fight, it was no big deal."

Lucifer quickly closed the distance between you. He took hold of your chin and tilted your face this way and that. "No big deal? MC, you have a black eye. I think perhaps you've also injured your ankle in some way. Do you really think it's okay to risk yourself like this?"

You frowned up at him. "I can handle myself. Just because I got hurt doesn't mean I didn't win the fight."

Lucifer shook his head in exasperation. "That is not the point. Surely the issue could have been resolved without you getting hurt."

You softened a little. "You don't have to worry about me so much, you know."

Lucifer let go of your chin, tracing the tips of his fingers down your cheek lightly. "How can I not when you come in here looking like this? I know you can take care of yourself, but it really is a problem if you-"

You cut him off, catching his hand and stepping in even closer. "Lecture me later. Right now, can't you just hold me?"

You saw his resolve break as his expression changed. He wrapped his arms around you gently, careful to avoid aggravating your injuries. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, unable to hold back as his worry for you spilled over.

"We will treat your injuries shortly," he said into your hair. "And MC, you will not worry me like this again."

You smiled to yourself at this blatant admission of his concern for you. The warmth of his arms was more than enough to make you feel as though you were healing already. You later heard all about how he hunted down those who hurt you (though you could never figure out how he knew who they were). Those demons were never heard from again.

Satan

You sat down across the table from Satan at the library of RAD. There was nobody else around - it was late in the afternoon and all the other students had long since gone home. You knew Satan was there late, taking his time studying for an upcoming curses and hexes exam. You had agreed to meet him there at some point, since you needed to study for that exam as well.

Satan looked up as you sat down and instantly reached out across the table, grabbing your wrist.

"MC," he said, his voice low. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

You knew he was reacting to the bruises on your face and the cut across your forehead that was currently still bleeding a little.

"I'm fine," you said, shrugging a little and pulling your wrist out of his grip. "I just had to take care of something on my way here. Now are we going to study some hexes or what?"

Satan stared at you with wide eyes for a moment. You watched as his face changed, his eyes going dark and his teeth clenching. You could see where this was going and sure enough, he was suddenly in demon form. He half stood out of his chair, leaning across the table and growling.

"Who was it?" he demanded. You could see the tip of his tail twitch just above the table, unexpectedly free rather than wrapped securely around his leg.

You weren't scared because you knew he was contemplating tearing some other demons limb from limb for doing this to you. His reaction was a little over the top, but nothing you weren't expecting. This was Satan, after all.

"I know you're upset," you said. "But it really isn't anything you need to worry about." You placed your hand over one of his, leaning forward yourself to meet him.

His death glare only cooled slightly. "You can't show up to a study session with injuries like that and expect me not to worry, MC."

"I can if I'm telling you that you don't need to worry," you said adamantly. "I need you to trust me. And honestly, it would help me a lot more if you would calm down and give me a hug than if you went off the rails right now."

He was struck by your words, and they caused him to sit back down. Slowly, his demon form left him and he was back in his RAD uniform. The anger still smoldered in his eyes, but it was in competition with how much he cared for you.

Satan closed his eyes, clearly fighting with himself to push down the wrath that continued to simmer in him. After a few moments and some deep breaths, he opened his eyes again. He came around the table, gently taking your hands and pulling you out of your chair.

His eyes roamed over the cut on your forehead, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You pressed yourself to him, letting your own arms return the embrace. The pain of injuries seemed to fade away entirely as you let him comfort you.

You pulled your head away just a little to look at him and as you did so, you saw a splotch of red against the grey fabric of his uniform. "I'm sorry," you said. "I got blood on your uniform."

Satan sighed and pulled you even closer to him, resting his head on your shoulder. "What am I going to do with you, MC? Promise me you'll be more careful. I hate to see you hurt like this."

"I promise I'll be more careful," you said. It was a promise you felt you could keep.

Belphegor

You moved as quietly as you could through the halls of the House of Lamentation, avoiding any of the brothers you came across. You were on your way to the planetarium to meet up with Belphie and you didn't want any of the others to see the state you were in. So you kept to the shadows, moving along the walls until you came to your destination.

You slipped into the room and smiled at Belphie as he looked up at you. He had been nearly dozing off, so he was still a little bleary.

"There you are," he said with a yawn. "You're late."

"I'm sorry," you said, hoping the room was dark enough that he hadn't noticed your cuts and bruises. You sat down next to him, making sure you stayed partly in shadow. "I lost track of the time."

"Hmm, fine, I'll forgive you this time," Belphie said, rubbing at his eyes.

You laughed softly. "Gee, thanks."

Belphie leaned against your shoulder sleepily. You winced. You didn't mean to, but your shoulder was still sore in that spot.

Belphie noticed instantly. He sat up straight and looked at you carefully, the sleepiness suddenly gone. "MC… is that… a black eye?"

You shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Belphie frowned. "It is. You're hurt." He tugged on your arm a little to move you more into the light. You knew he could now see how banged up you really were. "MC! What happened to you?"

"Don't worry about it," you said. "It's not a big deal."

Belphie scoffed. "You got into a fight, didn't you? At least tell me that you gave worse than you got."

"Of course I did," you said.

Belphie stood up. "Hang on," he said. "I'll be right back. Then you should tell me about it."

Belphie was gone for only a few minutes, coming back with a first aid kit in tow. He sat back down next to you and opened it, pulling out a disinfectant wipe. He started to wipe down the scrapes on your face. It stung only a little.

"So? What happened? Did some demons insult you or something?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said. "Well, they said some things that I couldn't just ignore and things escalated quickly. But I can promise you they're suffering worse injuries than I am."

Belphie smirked. "I'm not happy about you being hurt," he said seriously. "But I can't pretend I'm not proud of you, either. You should let us handle stuff like that for you, MC. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't know if it's worth you getting hurt like this."

Belphie carefully put a bandage over the largest cut.

"It's really no big deal," you said. "Especially since I have you to take care of me."

Belphie frowned, a soft blush creeping across his face. He sighed and put his arms around you. "Just because I'll patch you up doesn't mean you should go around getting yourself hurt."

You leaned into his embrace, nuzzling into him while still being careful of your injuries. "I know. Thank you for taking care of me, Belphie."

Although Belphie stayed by your side that night, you later heard rumors about those particular demons being plagued by nightmares.

Diavolo

You ducked into an empty classroom, having finally gotten away from the scene of the fight. You were covered in scratches and bruises and your lip was bleeding. You had eventually escaped the pandemonium after landing a particularly well thrown punch and running while your opponent was dazed. Now you could take a moment to breathe and figure out what you needed to do for your injuries.

You turned around from the classroom door and froze in shock. Diavolo was standing there in the middle of the room, looking just as shocked as you felt. He stared at you for a long moment, taking in your disheveled appearance, and the blood still dripping down your chin.

"MC," he said and the darkness of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. He came toward you. He put one hand on your arm and lifted the other to wipe the blood off of your bottom lip. He let his touch linger there. "Did a student do this to you?"

You considered telling him exactly which demons you had been dealing with. But then you thought about how you weren't entirely blameless. You engaged with them, after all, and there was no doubt that you'd left a few of them injured.

"Please don't worry about it," you said. "It wasn't like I couldn't handle it."

Diavolo sighed. "That isn't the point, I'm afraid," he said. "It's against RAD policy to fight on the grounds."

You smirked a little. "Are you going to give me detention?"

Diavolo laughed. The sound filled you with a feeling of warmth and contentment. It was his usual laugh and it let you know that everything would be okay. "I don't think that will be necessary," he said. "But if there are students picking fights, I'll have to do something about it."

You put your hand on his where it still lingered by your bloody lip. "You can do something about it later, can't you? I could really use a hug right now."

Diavolo put his hand gently on your cheek then wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close to him. After a moment he put his other arm around you, too, keeping you safe and warm in his embrace.

"I am so sorry this happened to you, MC," he said into your hair. "Please come back to the castle with me so I can be sure your injuries are properly cared for."

You pressed your cheek against his chest. "Are you really that worried about me? I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt you," he said. "But I would feel much better knowing you are being taken care of. Won't you indulge me?"

It wasn't like you could really refuse him. Especially not when you looked into his gold eyes and saw the deep concern there. So you would allow him to take you back to the castle, where you would stay for the rest of the night. You later heard about the rules regarding fighting at RAD becoming more strict.

Barbatos

You pressed your fingertips into your cheek in an attempt to stop the bleeding from a small cut you had gotten there. You felt that it was the most prominent wound, since it was right on your face, and while you couldn't exactly cover up all your bruises, you hoped you could at least stop the bleeding.

You were waiting for Barbatos in the gardens of the Demon Lord's Castle where you were meeting him for tea.

You weren't delusional. You knew you couldn't hide what had happened from Barbatos. But you still thought it would be better if you weren't actively bleeding.

When Barbatos finally arrived, he was carrying a tray of tea and pastries in his hands. The moment he saw you, he nearly dropped the tray, catching himself just in time. Still it tipped enough for a teacup to go flying off the edge, falling to the ground and smashing into tiny pieces.

You gasped and stood up, an unexpected reaction to the shattered teacup. "Oh don't worry, I can fix that," you said.

You couldn't look at Barbatos as you cast the spell to repair the cup. The pieces lifted into the air and fused back together. The cup landed in your palm, whole again. You straightened up and brought the cup over to where Barbatos was still standing, setting it on the tray before meeting his eyes.

There was an unmistakable aura of distress around him, even though his expression remained neutral. He carefully placed the tray on the table you had previously been sitting at.

"Thank you, MC," he said. "I'm afraid I lost my composure for a moment. I apologize for my clumsiness."

You had to hold in a laugh. Of course he would apologize to you for that. "Don't worry about it," you said.

You were about to sit back down at the table when he caught your arm. "I must inquire about your current state, MC."

You shrugged. "It's nothing important," you said. "Just a little altercation I was in on the way here. But I'm fine."

"I must disagree," Barbatos said. To your complete shock, he touched your cheek, leaving a smudged red stain on his spotless white gloves.

"Barbatos!" you cried, taking his hand. "You're getting my blood all over your gloves!"

It wasn't like Barbatos to allow his gloves to get dirty.

"A small matter compared to the fact that you are currently bleeding, MC," Barbatos said calmly. "You must allow me to tend to these wounds."

You sighed, squeezing his hand in both of yours. "All right. But first won't you…" You blushed, a little embarrassed to ask him to hold you.

But Barbatos knew what you wanted to say. He pulled you down into his lap as he sat down in one of the chairs by the table. You rested your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, gently kissing your neck. Much later, he would bandage you up and give you some healing tea. But in that moment, his touch was like the magic you had used on the teacup - making you feel whole again.

Simeon

You fidgeted outside the door to Purgatory Hall. You had come here to spend some time with Simeon, studying while he worked on his latest novel. It was something you had gotten into the habit of doing recently. You were currently concerned about running into Luke and scaring him with the sight of your injuries.

You decided to send Simeon a message on your D.D.D. letting him know you were outside.

He sent you back a question mark sticker, clearly confused about why you didn't just knock on the door.

You waited for a moment instead of responding and the door opened to reveal Simeon, his expression just as confused as the sticker he sent.

"MC?" he asked. Then he got a decent look at you. "Oh, MC. What happened to you?" He grabbed your hand, pulling you inside.

"I'm fine," you said. "Can we just go to your room so I can study?"

Simeon frowned, but he did as you asked. He held your hand tightly as he led you down the hall to his room.

Fortunately, you didn't run into any of the other Purgatory Hall occupants.

When you reached his room, Simeon sat you down on his bed as he stood before you, fingers lightly touching the largest bruise on your face.

"I told you, I'm fine," you said again. "I just didn't want to scare Luke, that's all."

"I appreciate that you were concerned about Luke, MC," Simeon said. "But you really should be worried about yourself, too. These injuries are serious. They need treatment."

You groaned a little and leaned forward, letting your forehead rest on his stomach. "I knew you'd be worried about it," you said. "But I'm fine. And anyway, I'll really start to feel better if you just hold me for a bit."

Simeon chuckled. He gently pushed your head back to make you look up at him. "I could never say no to that," he said. "But you really should let me take care of this later." He let his fingers hover over the various places where you had developed bruises.

"Later," you agreed.

Simeon shook his head, but he sat beside you on the bed. He took you in his arms, leaning back against the pillows so you were lying on his chest. He ran his fingers down your back and kissed the top of your head.

"You really should be more careful in the Devildom, MC," he said.

You snuggled into him more. "It's fine. I can handle myself."

"I have no doubt of that," Simeon said. "But I'd rather you didn't get injured. I can only imagine how the demons you fought are faring."

"Let's just say they'll think twice before messing with me again," you said.

Simeon sighed, but he only held you a little closer.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #i always forget how much i love writing for barbatos until i write for him again #request #misc writes

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perpetualexistence · 25 days

Text

Slumbering Pride

Alenoah Week Day 7: Free Day! (Demon AU)

Alejandro is finally, finally close to beating José at something. He's in his junior year, and universities are already scouting him out thanks to his name, his academic prowess, and his athletic prowess.

They did the same for José when he was about to graduate. The difference is he had five schools attempt to recruit him.

Alejandro has six.

José can't let this stand. If Alejandro officially gets six offers, then he'll know José isn't perfect. He'll start trying harder to beat José in things. And worse, he might actually win if he's proven himself capable of it.

José needs to do something about it, so he comes to the most obvious solution.

He summons a demon.

(Rest under read more because it's long)

Demons are an open secret. They were confirmed to be real a while back, though are mostly bound by the deals they must make in order to maintain a foothold on the human realm. An unbound demon is a dangerous thing, and often happens if the person making the deal is tricked into breaking their side of it.

Demons are known to do everything possible to do this, or at least cause havoc in whatever capacity their bounds enable them to. It's forbidden and illegal for anyone to summon one without proper qualifications. (There's still some summonings that do happen after all, demons are quite useful so long as you're careful).

Still, humans are naturally curious creatures, and have found multiple ways of spreading this knowledge as best as they can. Demon summoning is uncommon, but it still happens. So much that children are taught what to do if they believe they're encountering a demon.

Most sane people know better than to risk entering any contract with a demon. But there are always those desperate enough, or stupid enough, to try.

Getting his hands on a book on demon summoning is child's play for someone with José's family connections. He doesn't care what kind of demon he summons, so long as he summons one that will do the job he wants. He can sweet talk them into giving him the best deal possible just as he sweet talks anyone else.

As he finishes the summoning, his limbs grow heavier. It is constant agony to keep himself standing. His thoughts grow fuzzy as he struggles to remember what he was so focused on. He isn't quite sure why he bothers.

It would be much easier to sit down and rest. What was he so worried about, again? It couldn't have been so important if he's forgotten. His eyes droop to a close as he lets out a sigh of relief he had been holding back for so, so long.

"Wow, you're seriously pathetic if you're this affected by my summoning."

José snapped out of his stupor to see a teenager staring back at him. He was a couple of inches shorter than José and could only be described as a breathing fashion disaster.

José could have stopped there, but he couldn't ignore the horns atop the demon's head, the wings pressed against his back, the tail lightly tapping the ground. His arms were folded as he tapped his clawed foot impatiently.

José was expecting something much more imposing than...this. He'd laugh if had less control of himself.

"I would like to make a deal with you-"

"Could have fooled me with your craiglist ad." Noah said, glancing at the circle underneath him. "It's so generic it screams 'I'm not going to put you in a van and drive you to an undisclosed location, I promise.'"

José could feel a headache coming on. "I am going to make a deal with you, demonio." He needed to regain control of this conversation, fast.

"Never said I wouldn't make one. What do you want?"

"I would like for you to stop my brother from getting too far ahead in life. At the very least, I want to make sure that he can never surpass me. In any way. Can you do that?"

"Depends on what I get in return."

The two end up negotiating until they settle on a deal: Noah makes sure that Alejandro can never surpass José, and in return Noah gets to take his ability to dream. José can do without a few dreamless nights.

That's how Alejandro finds himself waking up in the morning with a demon that was only as tall as halfway up his knee staring at him from the foot of his bed.

Alejandro instinctively kicks the smaller boy out of panic, sending a very unhappy demon crashing into a wall. When they've both recovered, Noah explains exactly what's going on.

He's here to pretty much haunt and sabotage Alejandro, José's the one who sent him because he's a dick, and this is just going to be their life now.

After Alejandro processes the fact that his brother truly hates him this much as to risk both of their lives to a demon, he asks why Noah would bother to tell him all of this. He doesn't say it out loud, but he knows that a demon could absolutely make his life a living hell. He's expecting insidious manipulations and life threatening accidents.

And this demon is making any sabotage more difficult by confessing that he's going to sabotage Alejandro? Something isn't adding up.

That's when Noah points out the big flaw in Jose's brilliant plan.

Because he hadn't been concerned about what kind of demon he summoned, he pretty much set up a job posting for a demon from any of the seven sins to snatch. Noah just happened to get there first.

So what does José get for not being specific?

A sloth demon.

Noah plans to do the bare minimum of what's required for his job. He doesn't care to bother with the effort of lying to Alejandro about his purpose here. The only reason he bothered to take this job in the first place is because the human realm has two things that the demon realm doesn't: Decent places to nap, and good books.

The only thing he hadn't counted on is how small he'd end up being once bonded with Alejandro. His size is dependent on the amount of sloth Alejandro has. The teen who gives it his all in every activity he does.

Noah's got his work cut out for him.

Alejandro tries seeing if he can use his own silver tongue to have Noah quit the job before he gets started, but with no luck. Noah doesn't feel like leaving. And he's not about to break the deal on his side because then he be forced back into the demon realm and unable to return unless directly summoned.

Alejandro would very much like to try just trapping the demon somewhere, then go to his brother to confront him about doing this. But he knows better than to act before fully knowing what Noah is capable of. And he wouldn't be surprised if his brother tried to gaslight him into thinking Noah wasn't real. He still doesn't quite believe it himself.

He does start to believe that having Noah around will be a continuous little nightmare. He's constantly offering snide remarks. He keeps trying to convince Alejandro to stop trying so hard and just be lazy.

Alejandro's not as aggravated as the attempt than he is at the fact that there's zero tact to it. Noah isn't even TRYING to be subtle. He could think of a thousand ways to do Noah's job better, except telling him that would then make Alejandro's life worse.

It gets to the point where he's so upset he just throws a pillow at Noah. The demon squawks as he gets hit, and Alejandro gets immense satisfaction from this. Alejandro knows this is a terrible idea, but he's angry at this whole situation and needs to take it out on somebody. Might as well do it on the one successfully set him off.

Alejandro gets his karma for snapping at Noah when he goes to sleep.

His dream starts off as he would expect it to. Until suddenly he finds something knocked against his back. He finds himself pinned to his stomach, and when he struggles to get out from under it, he finds the tip of a very familiar tail at a much larger scale pressing down on him.

"I thought 'Burromuertos conquer whatever they set their minds to'. We're in your mind. So get up."

Alejandro can feel Noah's smirk though he can't see it. He refuses to give Noah the satisfaction of admitting defeat and continues to fight against the tail.

Tears are not pricking his eyes as he's made to feel insignificant in the last safe place that was truly his.

As he can't feel tired in his dream, he continues to struggle. Noah admits that Alejandro's probably the most stubborn human he's ever met.

Alejandro snaps that he's a Burromuerto, and he does not quit. He cannot, and will not quit. Ever. No matter the competition, no matter the cost. Noah's just another obstacle in his way. But he will beat his brother in something for once in his life.

He does his best to hide the desperation in his need to believe that this is true. He's hidden it well in the past, but Noah is a perceptive sort and hears it anyways.

Noah asks what could type of win could possibly be so important that it was worth the risk of his brother summoning a demon on him.

"I'm about to beat him in the amount of colleges offering me admissions by one." Alejandro gloated, pride swelling in his chest.

The tail pressing down on him suddenly reached underneath him, and flipped him over like he was a roach. He looked up to see Noah's face free of apathy for the first time. Instead, it was replaced with one of...pity.

"You can't seriously be proud of that."

Alejandro grit his teeth. "I am."

"You have to know how that sounds, right?"

"Please do enlighten me about what you think that sounds like."

"It sounds pathetic! You're going above and beyond and you're seriously caught up in something as stupid as one-upping your brother?"

"Don't you dare try to act as if you know any better tú hijo de su puta madre," Alejandro snarled, the tears returning to his eyes. "I don't care what you are. You know nothing about me and my family. You can say and do whatever you like but I will not cow to any of your attempts to degrade me." His snarl turned into something of a deranged chuckle. "Do your worst. This is nothing new. I will still come out on top and grind you into dust."

Noah was silent for a long time. As he started to move his mouth to speak, Alejandro found himself snapping awake. He looked around to see Noah still in his room. He's looking at him with incredibly impassive indifference. Alejandro won't see anything else in his gaze. At least the demon was smart enough not to try running his mouth again.

Alejandro stormed off so he could grab a book to study while he ate breakfast.

Noah mostly stays out of Alejandro's way, but Alejandro can feel him watching. He doesn't care where Noah scampers off to during the day. He refuses to acknowledge the little monster.

He throws himself deep into studying. He's spending more time awake so he can study and avoid having to fall asleep. Beauty sleep be damned, he does not want to deal with Noah again.

When he does sleep, he dreams. He can always feel a looming presence behind him, and he says nothing of it.

He does his best to hide his exhaustion from the rest of his family. José notices and pounces on it. Alejandro continues to deny it, because he will not give his brother the satisfaction of having won yet another battle.

All the stress and exhaustion comes to a head after a few nights. Alejandro hopes for a dreamless night, and is instead greeted by a nightmare.

He's attending one of his parent's many galas, and his outfit is atrocious. He's sweating profusely. His hair is plastered to his face. Try as he might, it refuses to go back into place. He's a truly unforgiveable sight. He tries to sneak off so he can find something else to change into. Despite his appearance, no one is paying any attention to him. He finds out why as he goes through a guest.

He's running as fast as he can now. He's going through so many people, everything is blurring together. It all comes to a halt as he crashes into a wall he can't see. As he falls backwards, he sees that he's now in a terrarium.

Outside, his much larger brother and parents are talking to each other. Alejandro can't make out what they're saying, but he can see them laughing. He gets up and bangs on one of the walls. His brother flicks his gaze towards his little brother.

Finally, a break. He know Jose hates him, but he'd never truly hurt Alejandro. Alejandro knows this. He has to believe this. Jose could hurt him physically, mentally, and emotionally, but even he wouldn't leave Alejandro to die.

He'd just deliver a potential vehicle of death to Alejandro's doorstep, is all.

Their parents are gone, and it's just him and Jose now.

"Relájate, hermanito," Jose cooes as if he's talking to an infant, "Nadie espera que seas más de lo que eres. ¡Deberías estar agradecido de haber estado cerca de una fracción de mis logros! Sabes exactamente lo que te mereces por eso, ¿no?"

Jose lifts the lid of the terrarium up. He reaches a massive hand down towards Alejandro. Alejandro wants to climb up and away, but the walls are too smooth. They're closing in. All that there is is the hand, ready to grab him, crush him, throttle him, any variety of things.

He can do nothing to stop it. He was a fool for ever thinking he could. He closes his eyes shut in an instinctive fear he can't hold back anymore. He's hoping he can bring himself to fight. He's silently begging for his brother to be merciful enough to make it quick.

The hand that grabs him is much more gentle than he expects. He struggles to be free, but the grip is tight enough to stop much movement. There is no squeeze. It is weight without malice, and cool to the touch.

He feels something the size of a tree trunk gently brush his hair away from his face. He lets out a gasp of air he had been craving for far too long. He tries to open his eyes. He feels the tears sweat from earlier is sticking his eyelids shut. He shudders. His arms are pinned, so he can't move to fix wipe his eyes.

Suddenly, he's being moved higher and higher. He hears steady flapping from above. The pace is slow enough to where the wind is just a gentle breeze soothing his clammy skin.

He feels his captor descending, and he's unceremoniously dropped to the ground. He wipes his eyes and stands up. He's dressed to the nines. He sees other figures roaming about. He can see how they sneak a glance his way, then happily chitter amongst themselves.

"Mijo, no te quedes ahí parado," his mother says as she suddenly slips through the crowd. This is how he remembers this is a dream. His mother would never refer to him so colloquially, "Entra, tu juramento está por comenzar."

"Un momento, madre. Hay algo que debo hacer primero."

She clucks her tongue, another informal mark of unreality, and leaves him be.

Alejandro turned around, but all he could see were faceless guests.

"You can come out. I know you're here." Alejandro felt the ground behind him quake slightly, and turned to look up at Noah.

"Sure you want to waste your time with me? The dream isn't going to last forever."

"What did you do?"

"Took you out of your own nightmare. Brought you into one of José's dreams. And before you throw a fit, this is one he already let me have. He's nowhere here."

"Alright, that brings me to my next question. Why?"

"Is it really so hard to believe I did something out of the goodness of my miserable excuse of a heart?"

"Sí."

"You're ridiculous," Noah groaned, rolling his eyes. "Fine, I did it because it's easier to get you sleeping if you actually want to sleep. Happy with that answer? Or do you want me to pull out my five step plan for sabotaging you?"

"Well, a little presentation would go a long way~" Alejandro teased. He was finally comfortable enough to find his own voice again.

"And congratulations, you've made me regret doing anything. I'm going back to insulting you the second you wake up."

"You can try, and it still won't work."

"It will. Now go on, you've got the rest of this dream and that's it."

Alejandro left Noah to go explore the rest of the ceremony of achieving the same position of his father as a Spanish ambassador.

He wakes up to find a small Noah clinging onto his chest. The demon had somehow managed to wriggle his way under one of Alejandro's arms and was using it as a blanket. He's still fast asleep. Alejandro tests how asleep by moving his arm slightly. Noah clings tighter to the arm, but otherwise doesn't stir.

Alejandro could just stand up. That would definitely force the smaller boy awake. ...But, as loathe as he is to admit, Noah did help him. So, possibly for the first time in his life, he decides to sleep in rather than wake up for his daily morning routine.

Noah grows a few inches, matching the height of Alejandro's knee, during their nap.

The two are still antagonistic towards each other, but it's nowhere near as bad as when they first met. Alejandro lords over Noah in the waking world, and Noah returns the favor in the dreaming. There is one added wrinkle, though.

Thanks to Alejandro's moment of weakness, Noah has gained the ability force Alejandro into taking a nap. It can only happen when he's already feeling tired, whether physically or mentally thanks to studying, or if he's doing a mindless task.

It's some of the best sleep Alejandro has ever had.

It aggravates him to no end.

When Noah isn't trying to convince Alejandro to give up on his dreams, he's either sleeping, or is reading one of the many books in the Burromuerto library if that's where Alejandro has decided to study.

Alejandro notices Noah struggling when he tries to get books to read due to his size. He offers to grab a book for Noah to bribe him into leaving Alejandro alone for this study session. Noah immediately starts taking advantage of this by questioning Alejandro about what kinds of books he has. Noah might as well get a book based on its contents rather than its weight.

The two start getting into book recommendations. Alejandro sweetens the deal by gifting Noah one of the books he no longer reads to get peace for as long as it takes for Noah to read the book. Noah accepts immediately and will cling to the book with his entire body when Alejandro tries to help him lift the book.

No. This is Noah's book now. No one else is allowed to touch it.

He's so possessive because human things are hard to come by in the demon realm. Only greed demons are able to carry human things back to the demon realm, so they've of course got a monopoly of jacked up prices. The only exception is if a demon properly owns a human thing. Or in this case, is gifted one.

So yeah, Noah will agree to let Alejandro touch it to carry it, but he's watching that thing like a hawk.

A few weeks pass like this. Eventually, José butts his way into Alejandro's life as he usually does. He gloats that their parents are planning to host a party for José to start making connections now as he's properly starting on his journey to becoming an ambassador.

The second he's gone, Noah and Alejandro start bonding by shit talking José.

Alejandro justifies trying so hard so that he can finally one up José. It's why he won't give in to sloth. Nothing good ever comes of doing nothing. Besides, it's one of the weakest of the sins, so it will be easy enough to overcome.

Noah argues that sloth isn't as terrible as Alejandro makes it out to be. It means actually getting rest when everything is overwhelming rather than chugging on through to crash and burn later. Taking a step back and doing nothing can lead to new ideas popping up because there is no longer stress preventing them. Hell, some innovation comes from humans being lazy and wanting a better way to do things.

Like any of the other sins, it's only bad when done in excess. And it can be worse than just being lazy. Having too much sloth means having too much apathy. Horrible people get away with atrocities when enough people are too lazy to do anything about it. It means nothing changes because nobody wants to change.

Noah reveals that underestimating sloth is exactly how José has absolutely screwed himself. José has given up his ability to dream. He thinks the only definition of that are his literal dreams at night, and that's what Noah has been feeding on so far.

They also mean his dreams about being an ambassador. His dreams of more. Dreams are heavily linked with desire and ambition. By the time Noah's done with him, José will be nothing more than a walking husk. He'll do the bare minimum needed to survive, but nothing more. Knowing he should long for something else but being unable to.

The only reason he hasn't done so immediately is if he does take it fully, it means his deal would be over, and no more being in the human realm.

This does remind Alejandro that he is having a casual conversation with a demon. Despite their current pleasantries, it would be a terrible thing to watch Noah get more creative in his interpretations of his deal with José. It's safer to keep him entertained than to let his mind wander.

It doesn't hurt that entertaining Noah has led to riveting conversation.

Still, he comes up with an idea to control Noah, and get himself some much deserved revenge. He asks if he could actually make a deal with Noah to get back at José.

Unfortunately Noah can't. Not because he doesn't want to. He's got no issues with taking José down a peg. He's just unable to make a deal with more than one human at a time. There are conflict of interest rules in place. Even if there weren't, he's still a teenager. He's not powerful enough to make multiple deals at a time yet.

But he knows a demon who'd be willing to help out.

Her name's Eva. She's a wrath demon. She's pretty straightforward. Tell her exactly what you want, and she won't try to screw with you so long as you don't do the same to her.

Alejandro is concerned about what her price would be, but he isn't going to say that directly. Instead, he comes up with a different plan to solve this in a way better than his brother had.

He asks about what kinds of things that Eva likes. Noah did mention that human objects were more difficult to come by in the demon world, yes? Alejandro could give something concrete rather than abstract. Everyone wins.

Noah doesn't say anything, but Alejandro can tell that Noah is impressed that he remembered something Noah had said. He must not have much chance to show off his knowledge in the demon realm.

Noah tells him that she likes music. All she's been able to scavenge is a very old, shitty MP3. Phones are more easy to come by, but with no service they're practically worthless. Besides, Eva's chill when she's not fully committing her job.

His only condition is Alejandro's going to have to agree to forget how to summon Eva after they've done the ritual. Eva doesn't like just anybody summoning her, and Noah respects that enough to not share it with others without her permission.

Alejandro agrees.

When the final word is spoken, he waits. And waits. and waits. It feels like he's been waiting for at least an hour. He's going to tap a hole in the floor with anticipation at this rate.

It can't be taking this long. The longer he waits, the longer José gets to prance around consequence-free. He deserves no peace for what he's put Alejandro through. His lips curl in disgust at the thought of his brother getting rewarded for all of his misdeeds. He wants to call his brother over, right here, right now. Just so he can throttle José himself-

"What do you want?" asked the demon who now stood in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and she looked annoyed to even be looking at him. Alejandro had to shake his head to head to let go of the pent-up rage he had suddenly developed.

"Hey iron woman." Noah commented from his current perch on a nearby bookshelf. Eva turned her attention away from Alejandro to see the smaller demon.

"Noah." Eva commented as she acknowledged him with a nod. Noah's face was still set with apathy, and Eva's with annoyance.

Yet Noah was wrapping his tail around his leg to prevent it from wagging as furiously as Eva's was.

"So, what do you want?" Eva repeated. The edge to her tone was dulled this time.

"I would like to make a deal with you. My brother is going to be at the center of a gala recently. I know he doesn't think as highly of others as he will pretend, so I would just like your help in making him more...honest about his true feelings." Noah sighed at this answer.

"You want a truth spell?" Eva asked. She turned to pay attention to Noah before Alejandro could form a response. "Why would you summon me for this?"

"He wants you to make his brother throw the rage fit to end all rage fits in front of an international audience."

"Then why didn't he just say that?"

"Because he doesn't know how to follow instructions."

"Then why'd you bring me a stupid one?" Eva asked Noah.

Alejandro had to bite his lip to stop himself from interrupting. He was being both ignored and insulted. He couldn't let this be his impression on anybody.

However, Noah knew this demon, while he did not. She clearly valued Noah's opinion over his own, so countering his opinion now would only serve to shut her off further from responding to the Spaniard.

"He has his moments," Noah replied, "Plus, you're going to like what he has to offer."

"Well?" Eva asked, turning her attention back to Alejandro.

"As Noah so tactfully implied, I do plan to offer a fair price," Alejandro said, glad to have control of the conversation again. He pulled out a small device he'd performed quite a bit of research to get his hands on. "I've heard that you are in need of more music. I have managed to find a top of the line mp3 player-"

"How many songs?" Eva interrupted. She was looking directly at Alejandro now.

"If I had to guess? A little over 20,000."

Eva's tail immediately dropped. He could see her mind move from processing that number, to grappling it, to understanding it. Her eyes shone with anticipation that she didn't bother to hide. Her tail was practically causing a minor tornado. Her hands were half clenched and shaking as if she was five seconds away from snatching the prized jewel Alejandro held in his hands.

"Ice Nine Kills."

"Hm?"

"Ice Nine Kills. Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood. We're moving up from there. Now gimme."

"Well, hold on. We still need to work out some of the finer details-"

"Fine, sure, we have the deal, whatever you want now give it to me."

Alejandro had to hide the smirk that was threatening to form on his face. He had no idea his offer would work this perfectly. All he had to do was seal-

"Eva!" Noah snapped. "You just offered a human 'whatever they want' in a deal."

"...Oh." Eva realized.

"Yeah, 'oh'." Noah glanced at Alejandro. "And don't think I didn't see that look in your eyes. I'm proctoring your deal."

"But-" both Eva and Alejandro tried to argue.

"It's happening."

With that, the two negotiated for a fair deal. Eva could stay in the human realm specifically to download as many songs as she wanted for her mp3 player, and to help Alejandro in his revenge. After that, she'd go back, and the mp3 player would be hers forever.

They both agree to it, and the deal is set. Noah and Eva spend some time catching up while Eva searches for music. Noah insists on catching up in private, which he obliges. After two failed attempts to eavesdrop.

The three of them plan exactly how to best humiliate José. Alejandro hadn't known quite what to expect with Eva, but he was pleasantly surprised. Her ideas were simple, direct, and brutal. They contrasted with Alejandro and Noah's more elaborate plans until they came to a consensus.

The party happens, and everything is set in place. Eva is invisible to everyone else, and is preparing elsewhere. Alejandro just needs to stay away from his brother so he doesn't realize something is amiss with Noah.

Alejandro knows that this is the perfect time to put himself out there. Especially since José's reputation is about to be shattered. He'll be remembered as the good Burromuerto this time around. Talking comes as second nature to him. All he has to do is talk, and just ignore Noah.

Noah, who's not having a good time at this party. Despite being invisible, his eyes are darting around everywhere as if they could see him. Thanks to being invisible, he's constantly having to avoid feet stepping on him. He's sticking as closely as he can to Alejandro, though he's not commenting on it at all.

Alejandro excuses himself to go to a more quiet part of the mansion forbidden to guests. Noah's visibly more relaxed as they get farther away from the crowd. But he does ask what Alejandro's doing.

Alejandro attempts to lie about being the one who needed space, but Noah shuts him down since he could see Alejandro lighting up when he talked to others. Alejandro will confess to noticing Noah and leaving since he knew Noah would follow. Their new partnership won't do well if one of them is in a near state of panic.

...Consider it returning the favor for the nightmare, if that helps.

Noah's quiet as he recognizes that this human is showing the closest thing to compassion that he can muster. He wants to say something, but the time of José's humiliation is nearing, and he wants to be there to see it. Alejandro makes his way back inside. He keeps Noah calm in the crowd by having him perch on his shoulder, and quietly making fun of the guests as they pass.

Eventually, José's breakdown begins. It works gloriously. He's swearing at other ambassadors. He's throwing things. At one point he's about to let loose of of the skeletons in the Burromuerto's family closet, but he's dragged away before he can. Alejandro has to hide his laughter, though Noah has no need to.

Unfortunately, it means that Noah has broken the deal on his end because he's intentionally let Alejandro beat Jose in something: not causing an international scandal. He gets pulled back to the demon realm and as punishment, can't answer any summons for at least a year unless it's for him specifically.

Alejandro's heartbroken to have Noah ripped away from him. He'd grown rather fond of having the demon around. He can't ask Eva for more help because she disappeared once José's scandal ended. He tries to find the book José used to summon Noah, but it was shredded. José was smart enough to guess that a demon had something to do with his irrational behavior.

Alejandro spends the next few weeks obsessing over finding the right summoning circle. His grades are slipping the tiniest amount, and he can't bring himself to care. He forces himself to sleep. He hopes that will somehow increase his chances of finding Noah. They feel empty without Noah to watch. He has no idea how to find one for Noah specifically, though he certainly does try. He settles for the next best thing: trying a generic summoning circle with the first gift Alejandro gave him as a conduit. Maybe he could at least find a demon who'd be willing to make a deal to help him get in touch with Noah.

This is incredibly dangerous and stupid, but the risk is worth it.

His stomach growls as he finishes the circle. He's been so focused on his work. He doesn't remember the last time he's eaten. He could leave to grab a quick bite-

No, no. He knows what this is. These thoughts aren't his. They can't be Noah's either. Noah's never cared much for-

stuffing his face until he can take no more. His body is a temple, and it deserves to be lavished. He's salivating, and must force himself not to run for the kitchen.

He's rewarded for his discipline with a large, blond demon who calls himself Owen.

He explains the situation to Owen, but no sooner does he utter Noah's name that Owen lights up.

"Ooooh, YOU'RE AL!!!"

Owen immediately starts going on about how Noah's his best friend. Which confuses Alejandro. He'd assumed Eva was Noah's best friend. She was stoic, blunt, and had common sense. She made sense.

This oaf with no volume control did not.

Owen keeps going on regardless of Alejandro's thought process. He completely outs Noah as being a mess thinking he'd never see Alejandro again. Noah was sleeping even harder than was normal for him, he was talking about Alejandro a lot you name it!

So of course Owen will be happy to get the two connected again!

Owen does want to give Alejandro Noah's summoning circle/number, but Alejandro did summon him so it does have to be some kind of deal. Uh...What's the nearest snack he's got? Owen'll take that.

He shares the information, then immediately leaves to go tell his little buddy that Alejandro plans to summon him.

Alejandro changes the circle to summon Noah with fervor.

When Alejandro summons Noah he feels as if every worry he's ever had has melted away. He wants to lay his head on Noah's lap and look up at him. He wants to reach up and tease his fingers through Noah's hair. He wants to trick Noah into leaning down so they can share a kiss and shift to nuzzling together. No more fighting to be on top. Just this once.

They're both blushing when Noah does get summoned because uh they both felt THAT. Neither of them meant that to be the way to confess but uh, whoops.

The two make a deal: "I'll help you get revenge on Jose until you're satisfied (knowing that with Alejandro, he never will be), and you'll let me stay in the human realm for as long as I want."

"Change that to for as long as I live."

"Still don't trust me?"

"I have to put some limits on you mi gatito travioso. Besides, now I know you have an investment in keeping me alive."

"You're terrible."

"Says the demon."

There are many ways to seal a deal with a demon.

They seal this one with a kiss.

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phonkscribes · 8 months

Note

Heyo- the power went out at my place after a storm. it got me thinking- what would the dmc boys do during a power outage with their s/o? Thank you (:

This is such a sweet and funny idea, thank you for sending the request and I'm sorry that I'm only just NOW getting to it. I'm going to include Credo because I love him.

Black Clouds Provoke Isolation.

The DMC boys during a power outage with their S/O.

Dante

He is accustomed to not having the power work at the Devil May Cry, but he understands that it's probably not something his S/O would be all that acquainted with. First he'll look up and curse quietly to himself, clicking his tongue and turning his head away as he sits in the darkness. As soon as his S/O comes in and starts to worry about it, he's there to calm them down and tell them that it's not a big deal and that this sort of thing happens all the time. Much to their dismay, Dante... power is important, without power the fridge can't keep the pizza and beers cold. His motivation arises at the risk of these important assets being lost.

If his S/O is afraid of the dark or has an issue with it, he'll drape himself over them like a blanket.

"Alright lets get you to the couch", and then he guides(drags) them to the couch to hunker down until the power comes back on.

Dante would poke fun of them for that, if it weren't for his own apprehension to wandering around in the dark. He gets it, since a lot of bad things tend to happen to him in the dark. That's probably what's going on in the mind of his S/O so the least he can do is be there and comforting for them where he didn't have anyone to comfort himself during those times.

"Hey... it'll be okay, we've been through worse before haven't we?", he'll say in a melancholic sort of way.

When the lights do eventually come back on, he has this big smile on his face and looks down to his S/O. He'd chuckle and give them a quick nudge.

"It came back on! See? What'd I tell you?", and after making sure that his partner's alright, he's going off to check if the pizza and beers are still good. A little celebratory snack wouldn't hurt, and he's thinking that a bit of pizza and a cold drink might cheer them up.

Vergil

Like his brother, he doesn't quite care for the dark when the power goes out, but that's because he's grown used to a lack of light in his life. The darkness is something he's come to embrace, something he can move freely through and about without concern. Of course, this changes somewhat with his S/O by his side. He moves to find them first throughout the power outage, making sure that they're alright. However, he's a bit lost as to what to do in this situation since it's never happened to him enough times before where he's become familiar with what course of action to take. He's spent more time in Hell than in the human world, and will rely on his S/O to take charge, which is something he dislikes.

Vergil would ask them if there's anything that he can do to help, like light some candles or check on the appliances or anything like that. He'd also grow a bit frustrated with them when they don't turn on when he tries to use them or if there isn't anything else he can do to try and help. The Darkslayer tries not to pout and fold his arms in the corner as everything else essentially gets handled for him or by someone else. However, he isn't totally useless here. If there is something he can do, it is also to provide comfort for his S/O in the case that they're not as fond of the dark as he is.

If this gets in the way of them trying to take action, he'll guide them through the house and ask them what they need. Once everything is squared away, his focus is directed onto his partner. What do they need right now? What can he provide for them? Comforting others may not be his strong suit, but he will everything he can for their sake. If this is just holding onto them and pressing their head into his shoulder, he will do it. He won't admit it, but he's glad that their able to vulnerable with him, allowing him to be the rock that they can lean on in their time of need. Besides, he quite enjoys these small moments of reprieve and being close to his S/O.

The first one to start is Griffon, commenting about how the lights have gone off and how it's suddenly gotten a bit colder. V acknowledges this from his familiar and starts to get up from his spot on the couch to go and locate his S/O to inform them of the problem if they weren't previously aware already. If they're already getting to it, he's sitting back and watching them, admiring the way that they're handling the situation. He'll leave them after a moment to go and find if he can do something to assist them, such as bringing them a flashlight or even a few candles to light around the house so that things are easier to see. He's not all too bothered by a lack of power, tolerant at best, but he does get cold after idling for a while.

When all that can be done is done, he's curled up on the couch with a spot made available for his partner. V waits for them to come and join him, as he'd like for them to share their warmth with him. Sitting together, he'll start to read from his book of poems as Shadow drapes herself across the two of them. It is a perfect way to relax during an event that they don't have much control over, especially if he notices that his S/O is a bit uncomfortable with the lack of power. V would be too, if it weren't for having his partner at his side.

The comfort of not being alone through this gives him the strength he needs to get through it, and he hopes that he can shed that same strength to his S/O. Griffon complains about the mushy romantic spiel that V sings, flocking off to go and check if the power's back on. While the mouthy bird is out of the picture, he returns his attention to being assuring that all will be okay, as it is not the end... yet. Of course, it's within his nature to be a little teasing to them, and he enjoys watching the way they react to his words. When the power does return, he won't be releasing them from his grasp any time soon. V quite likes snuggling with his S/O and he'd like to be with them for a little longer before they eventually do get up to leave.

Nero

He's a little irritated when the power goes out, and ends up cursing the storm for the lack of lights in the house. Nero looks to his S/O and asks if they're okay before he even starts to do anything else, making sure they're all good first and then going to start the backup generator. At the least, he's got a backup plan, thanks to Nico for providing him with a spare(at a 'good' price.)

"Come on you bastard", he's mouthing off to the generator as he yanks the cord to bring it to life.

Nero returns to his partner as soon as that's been squared away, and takes their hand in his to go and grab the flashlights and other lights and what not. He looks around to see if there's anything that he might've forgotten about or if there's anything that his S/O hasn't done. He likes to be on top of things, even having a little plan that Kyrie made to go over until the power comes back on. It isn't the end of the world, but he hates sitting still for too long, even if all that's left to do is to wait. He'd have called Kyrie too by then, asking if the boys are doing okay while he's here with his S/O.

If his S/O happens to be anxious without the power, Nero probably won't be of much help. He's a better listener than he is the guy to go to for advice, awkwardly standing around while Kyrie would cry about something that happened to her or that she was going through. He's gotten better over the years though. He'll take his partner to the couch and make sure they're nice and cozy, offering them an earbud to take and listen to some music while he sits with them, waiting for the storm to pass and eventually for the power to return. He's attentive, and tries, and that's all that anyone can ever really ask for.

When the power does come back, he's cracking a smile, and even hits them with something witty and sarcastic.

"Was that so bad? You did just fine"

And they did! And he presses a little kiss to their forehead.

Credo

He had expected such to happen when he caught the forecast on the news just a few days prior. He suspected that something like the power going out would happen, and so he's pleasantly pleased with himself when he managed to be correct in his assessment.

"Not to worry, I've got this", Credo assures his S/O as he moves with a calmness to gather the things that he has prepared in case such an emergency were to arise. There are bottled waters, flashlights, and the like.

One could even say that Credo's a little too prepared. He makes his calls to Kyrie and Nero, making sure that they're alright and have everything just as he had instructed Kyrie. While with his S/O, he's going over what the plan is and etc. The one-winged devil is a little impatient with things, pacing around the house as he waits for the power to return, and checks in with his partner to make sure that they're okay too. It might take their own assurance that things are okay to calm him down from his restlessness.

Credo isn't usually one to have his feathers ruffled, but there are times where even he loses his cool, like when the Order used his sister to further their own goals. It was absolutely unacceptable, and he'd hope that her, Nero, and the boys were doing just as fine as him and his S/O were. If his S/O were to become anxious during the predicament at any point, he'd stop his own fretting for a moment to address theirs. He'd apologize if he had any part to take in causing it, and promptly pull them into a hug, after asking if it were okay to hug them. His formalities could be found endearing, even after all this time, and they do end up calming his partner down. The distraction is more than appreciated as he tries to figure out what to talk about.

Although one may find that he's not so good with small talk, and curses himself for not being better at it for their sake.

Sparda

The dark knight doesn't see a power outage as a problem, even finding it a bit trivial that the lights went out all because of a silly little storm? He alerts you rather loudly that there isn't any power.

"Dear!! The lights have gone out! Is everything alright?"

Funny how he could create the contraptions necessary to power the Temen-Ni-Gru, but simple electricity puzzles him. Ah, oh well. He could easily provide a bit of light with a bit of magic. He was quite good at that, and he does well to emulate a bit of light for him and his S/O to walk around the house if he wasn't too busy with reading or doing anything else the moment the power went out. His main priority is his partner and after seeking them out, he's making sure that they're alright and taken care of. Upon finding them, he'll snake his arms around their trunk before pulling them close to himself.

"That didn't scare you did it?", he'd ask as he smirks into the back of their head, pressing a kiss to their hair as he takes a gander at the state of their abode.

He's off to check on other things if his beloved is fine and dandy. With a bit of his devil's magic he'd even start on preparing them some tea to enjoy until the power comes back on. Sparda does enjoy using his talents every now and then, showing off his power in these small displays to charm his S/O further even though he's already secured them. It's something that he can't help. He does get a bit more serious if his partner happens to be a bit disturbed by the lack of power. It's almost like a 180, where his lightheartedness is replaced by being more levelheaded and attuned to every little thing from his partner. The pupils of his eyes narrow as he kneels before them, surrendering himself to them as he takes their hands into his own.

"Darling, if there is anything that I can do, you just need to say the word", he says in a sultry tone. He'll bring their hands to his lips as he thumbs over the back of them.

#phonk scribes #your letter has been received #dante x reader #vergil x reader #v x reader #nero x reader #credo x reader #sparda x reader #dmc x reader #dmc imagines #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry x reader #fluff #[ I feel like I don't have a good enough grasp on V and Nero but thrive off of the others... ]#[ I should've included Urizen ]#[ enjoy! ]#[ again... sorry that this is so late hehfdjjsfh ]

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purriteen · 1 month

Text

Ad victor spolia, chapter five

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years), somnophilia

author’s note: it's been like a month but have this double release I'm feeling generous (crappy proofreading/editing, be warned)

word count: 3,476

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Your head is throbbing from the hangover. You only vaguely recognise the room you're in, with the large Palladian windows and exquisite furniture you're pretty sure it's the master bedroom, and the arm that drapes over your torso as you realise your back is pressed against a warm, distinctly male body.

You're startled at first, and when you turn around to find that it's Coriolanus, in a pair of pyjama pants and a loose sleeping shirt, you hardly feel any better about the situation. It takes you a minute to register that he's awake, blush spreading on your cheeks like wildfire when his eyes meet yours.

You feel so exposed like this, groggy and hungover, in the now wrinkled black slip dress that offers you little coverage. You can't even remember taking your ballgown off in the first place.

"Silia? You're finally awake. I was worried about you, after what happened last night," He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Without all that product in it, his curls have returned. He must've had time to shower sometime between your blackout and now.

Your brows furrow, anxiety building in your chest at his words. "What do you mean, after what happened last night..?" You inquire, although you're not sure you want to know. The whole scenario looks so incredibly wrong. But you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt - how likely is it really that anything would've happened?

Even if it weren't so immoral and disgusting, your brother being intimate with anyone is just unthinkable to you. At most, he'd probably have attended one of those decadent gentlemen's clubs, if he didn't have so much to lose, being the President and all.

The thought appalls you - but it's not just the idea of him partaking in exploiting the less fortunate women in the Capitol, there's something more to it that you can't quite put your finger on. You push it aside for now; you have bigger, more urgent problems to deal with.

He appears deep in thought for a second, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly. "Coryo? What happened last night?" You repeat, this time with more urgency in your voice. You shift into a sitting position, your thoughts running wild with ideas of whatever awful thing could have landed you here, making it impossible for you to stay in that half-asleep state.

He finally looks up at you, stretching out one of his hands to stroke your cheekbone. There's something about the look on his face that makes him seem pained, wounded.

"You got.. very intoxicated. One of my men found you in the corridor just outside the ballroom, with a low-ranking gamemaker. They caught him red-handed, trying to.. to take advantage of you."

His words start to sink in, and a wave of nausea washes over you at the thought.

Someone had tried to force themselves onto you.

Someone who was likely a friend or at least a colleague of Remus. Who'd possibly even worked with your brother at one point, when he was a gamemaker intern.

"I'm so sorry, Hersilia, I shouldn't have let you get so drunk in the first place, I had your glass checked for any trace of drugs, of being laced with anything, but the lab couldn't find anything. I should've kept a closer eye on you, protected you from anyone who might even think of laying a hand on you.." His voice trembles, and you're surprised to see your brother so raw, so different from his usually so very controlled self. You hardly even recognise him, but you can't help but think that you should be used to it by now.

You find yourself in a tight embrace, feeling both unsettled by his strong arms wrapping around you like a vice, a snake, yet somehow safer. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to speak.

"Did.. did he do anything?" You try not to let your fright show, but your voice comes out a hoarse whisper. He finally lets go, and shoots you a concerned, puzzled look. He takes a deep breath before talking again. "How much do you actually remember of what happened? You were barely conscious when they brought me to you."

You try and think it over. But the last thing you remember is sneaking off to the powder room to gossip with an old classmate of yours. Idesta Harrington. She'd been a childhood friend, although you hadn't stayed in touch since you seemed to run in different circles once you'd gone off to the Academy.

Although a lot had changed, she was one of the few whom Coriolanus did not deem 'beneath the Snow name' or otherwise not suitable to be around you. You knew he'd been in the same grade as her older brother, nicknamed Pup, too. You couldn't for the life of you remember anything distinct about him.

"Everything after I went to the ladies room with Dessie is just.. gone. Blank. Don't remember any of it," You try to speak, but this time a sob gets caught in your throat, the shame and shock you felt threatening to spill over.

Coriolanus takes note of this. He's relieved, but not particularly surprised that you believe him. It very well could have happened anyways - with how wasted and vulnerable you'd been. He'd have to figure out how to deal with the imaginary attacker later.

Perhaps he'd have to choose from one of the actual gamemakers to banish to the districts, or he could take one of the few Capitol-born traitors currently awaiting punishment. He'd have to probe doctor Gaul for which member of the team she'd be least upset about losing.

Whatever he needed to do to show you that he would always be the one to keep you safe, to reinforce what he already knew but had yet to get through your disgracefully thick skull. Truthfully, Coriolanus didn't know why he was so protective over you sometimes.

"You were discovered before he could do anything to really hurt you. I would've never forgiven myself if.." He trails off, letting you believe he struggled to even say it aloud. It worked as intended, and you practically throw yourself into his arms, gripping his shoulder tight.

"It's not your fault, Coryo," You insist, sobs wracking through you as you hold onto him.

He didn't necessarily enjoy seeing you so frightened, so distressed, but he felt powerful like this. You had never once made him feel unsure or lesser than in the way Lucy Gray did. You were so much easier, safer to love. He relished the feeling.

"I know, dove. But I was so worried," He sighs, petting your hair as your head rests on his shoulder, burrowing into his pale neck. You allow the almost overwhelming, but familiar scent of roses that followed him around to comfort you somewhat.

"I didn't want you to sleep alone, I'm sorry, I just couldn't let you out of my sight. My conscience wouldn't let me," He kisses the top of your head, and you nod in understanding.

You don't question even for a second that what he's saying is the truth. You hadn't seen him so distressed ever. Even when he sat you down and explained that he had enlisted all those years ago, or the prospect of selling the penthouse, he had been more so embarrassed and shut-off than distressed, like he was now.

You find yourself thinking that maybe you'd misjudged him. Maybe, he was just as damaged and conflicted as you, rather than evil through and through. Torn between his protective, caring instincts and the ruthlessness his career of choice demanded. You try to scour your emotions, looking for anything that stood out or suggested otherwise, but you find nothing tangible.

Something about the situation still feels wrong, though. You just can't figure out what. You chalk it down to the shock of finding out about the danger you'd been rescued from last night. Everything he'd said made perfect sense in your head - he'd even respected you enough to leave your clothes on, instead of giving you the bath you truthfully needed by now. And why would he lie about such an awful thing? He wouldn’t go that far.

As he cradled your trembling form in his arms, you knew that this, this was the Coriolanus you cherished and loved. The one who made you feel so safe and doted on and adored, even in the darkest of times. For the first time in many years he felt like the Coryo you remembered from your childhood again.

A couple weeks had passed since then. The two of you had grown closer, largely thanks to Coriolanus' unwillingness to let you leave his side. You couldn't blame him for that, though - he seemed perhaps even more traumatised by what happened that night than yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of worrying him even more, and since you didn't have much to do anyways, you complied. You figured the paranoia would fade sooner or later.

But he'd taken it a step further by insisting on assigning you security detail for whenever he wasn't around as well, even inside the house. You'd grown quite fond of the first one he assigned, Salomon, though you just called him Sal for short. He was around your brother’s age, short but stocky, with buzzed chestnut brown hair that appeared reddish in the sunlight. You knew because he'd always follow you around on the sunny afternoons you spent tending to the part of the garden Coriolanus had allowed you to make your own. You'd enjoyed listening to his anecdotes from 'back home', which in his case was district four. It was so unlike your life in the Capitol.

But one day, Salomon was gone, just as you'd started to really warm up to him. In his place was a tall, broad-shouldered man who appeared to be in his thirties, but his face was rough, hardened and his storm grey eyes, devoid of any pop of colour, looked as if he himself might as well have witnessed the chain of disastrous events that had led to North America becoming Panem. A cold, cut-throat military man. He was a man of few words, watching over you like a hawk and bringing an uncomfortable, prickly tension with his presence into your everyday life.

You attempted to bring it up with your brother over dinner. He'd coolly explained that it was for your own safety - Salomon had only been a placeholder until he had found someone better suited to keep you safe, someone he could fully entrust with your safety. Still, you'd pleaded your case of how you missed the company Sal provided, and Coriolanus promised you that he would find more time for you outside of work to make up for it personally.

He didn't seem to grasp the concept of you desiring a social life outside of him, which was beyond concerning, but for now you figured that was the best you would achieve. After months of feeling so confused and nothing short of isolated, you were much too exhausted to risk going back to that by confronting him.

Although the both of you had warmed up to each other more as of late, he was still rigid in his decisions - Coriolanus always needed to have the last word. You tried to accept him as he was, and you even felt as though he might be letting up on his sometimes overly controlling tendencies on his own. Just a little bit, enough to give you a spark of hope.

However private Centho, as you'd come to find out he was called, even after a week, still brought malaise to your life every time you had to be alone with him. You couldn't bear it. Finally, you'd come to an agreement with your brother - inside the safety of the presidential palace, you would be allowed privacy. No more security detail. You figured the storm had blown over by now and that was that.

Yet, now that he could no longer station someone outside your bedroom door at night, the deal came with the condition that you would instead sleep in his every night. He had arranged for the staff to bring you a spare bed that was placed a couple feet away from his own. But somehow you always woke up to find yourself snuggled up to him every morning, without fail.

At first you told yourself it was just the winter chill. His bedroom was large and airy with massive windows, so you figured that made the most sense. But the snow had started to melt away bit by bit already, and regardless, you were provided with infinite warm pyjama sets and bedding. That was no excuse.

Perhaps it was the size and roughness of the mattress. It was of the highest quality you'd find in a folding bed, but it didn't compare to the comfort offered by the plush, extravagant bed you'd grown accustomed to. You wondered if you were starting to become spoiled.

The whole situation reminded you of a book you'd read when you were little, one of the many that you had been forced to burn in the fireplace to keep warm during the dark days. It was about a princess who'd been tested to see if she was noble enough to marry a lonely foreign prince, using a single pea that was placed under tens of mattresses stacked on top of each other. If she was worthy, she'd feel the pea when she laid down through all of those layers.

You'd imagined that one day, when your family was by some miracle no longer dirt poor, you might get to marry a 'prince' too. Of course, there was no such thing as royalty in Panem. That belonged in the old world. Here, you didn't need a title to be important - you needed money and influence.

Finally, you'd had to come to the conclusion that in truth, it was his warmth, his embrace that you were after. He was often too busy for you in the daytime, and although you enjoyed getting to spend more time with Eugenie again, you wanted him. It was his company you were after.

You'd missed out on so much when you were little - first, he was always studying, and then after he'd graduated the academy, he was all about both studying and building his career. You wanted to finally get a chance to bond with him, properly this time. The real him.

But once he brings you to the cell your supposed attacker is being held in, you begin to feel that perhaps, he's just as unpleasant if not more beneath the surface.

You vaguely recognise the man, although you can't quite put your finger on it.

Then it hits you like a bucket of ice falling over your head. Romulus. Romulus Dolittle, the youngest son of your former neighbours. He'd been your first friend, you first crush, your first and only kiss. Even if it had just been a quick peck.

Despite the glass wall separating you from the gaunt, bludgeoned prisoner you once called your friend, you can tell he knows exactly who you are, too.

"This, is Romulus Dolittle. You might remember him from the Corso, before his family moved away. Regardless," Coriolanus is clear-spoken and seems entirely unfazed at the sight of the bloody pulp right before your eyes, as if this was a daily occurrence for him.

You can feel bile rising in your throat at the thought that it very well could be - is your brother the one who did this to him? Had he personally made the poor man's life a living hell on the daily?

"You don't expect me to believe that he attacked me, do you?" You interrupt before you can even consider your words. Coriolanus' jaw ticks as he turns to look at you, and you feel as if you want to crawl out of your own skin.

He puts on a cold, thin-lipped smile. When he speaks again it's in an overly calm, smooth tone, as if explaining a complicated subject to a small, petulant child.

"If you had let me finish, you'd know that he is not here under suspicion of attacking you. He was involved in a rebel conspiracy." He explains, the disdain in his voice as he utters those last two words barely concealed.

Your fingernails dig into the skin of your palms as you resist the urge to claw your brother's eyes out. The hint of a self-satisfied smirk in his eyes tells you he knows just as well that the bloody pulp of a man was innocent.

"Why are you showing me this?" You manage to keep a steady tone, feigning nonchalance as best as possible. And although he plays along, you can tell Coriolanus is not buying it. He turns away from you again, facing the glass barrier separating you from the supposed traitor once more.

"Because, Hersilia. You must understand, that even those you trust the most, even your oldest friends, will betray you and everything that the Capitol stands for, if they believe it is in their best interest." He begins, and the urge to tear the flesh off of his smug face returns for a brief moment.

Then you watch as two peacekeepers enter the cell, dragging Romulus out in chains.

"Tomorrow, after he has been cleaned up, the very first public execution in the history of the Capitol will take place."

The whole encounter left you in a state of shock. Once you'd returned to the manor and finally calmed down a bit, your brother had played the recording of Romulus' confessing to the crime, although you could tell by how hoarse his voice that he'd been screaming before. It was likely brought on by torture at the hands of the peacekeepers guarding him.

You could tell Coriolanus was trying to twist the situation in his favour, as he always did. But this was all too much. You felt as if he was taking you on a sick rollercoaster that would only lead you into your impending death.

You knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to do something about it. But how?

Meanwhile, Coriolanus could feel you slipping away from him. He must've taken it too far, and above anything too soon, with showing you Romulus' fate. He thought he could take advantage of your inevitable breakdown to reinforce his status as being the one to comfort you and care for you no matter what, but it seemed that this time, he couldn't.

He did everything he could, against your will he held you as you cried until your eyes dried up, allowed you to wander about the house more freely, he had even given you permission to go into town without him again so long as you brought someone with you. And Centho was finally off your back no matter the unease he felt at being unable to watch over you through that man's observations.

He'd instead opted to give you a diary of sorts to write your thoughts down in, an elegant black leather book with a silver padlock and your name engraved in cursive. Hersilia Honoria Snow. He figured that if you were going to insist on shutting yourself off from him, you might instead turn to something else, and he would much rather see to it that he was in control of that variable rather than give you true freedom.

But, you refused to write anything, and the spare key he had neglected to tell you about only provided him with two hundred blank pages worth of insight.

You had stopped making small talk with him almost entirely. All you did was ask too many questions about Romulus, asking to see Tigris, trying to convince him to let you spend time with Persephone and Remus again. He had to remind you that Remus and his family was only spared from execution because of the scandal their deaths would otherwise cause, and that quickly shut you up. Coriolanus doubted the man would be keen on spending time with someone who falsely accused his little brother and got him killed regardless.

He on the other hand was pleased to have smashed two birds with one stone. No more cannibal friends, no more sleeping on your own and leaving him in the dark. But he needed you to trust him again. Everything had been going so well until now.

So he gave in. You would finally get to see your dear cousin again and get some well needed answers.

Well, you wouldn't get any of those, but you didn't need to know that. Yet.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse, @priyajoyy, @euphemiaamillais @harvey-malfoy

#banner credit: @benkeibear #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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anna1306 · 1 year

Text

This idea was stuck in my mind too strongly not to write it c:

Rule

Poly!Ghostface x Reader

Warnings: discussion of death, death of secondary character, blood

Being new wasn't an easy deal. It didn't matter whether you were new in school, work, company or anywhere else. In any case there would be side-eyes, whispers and a lot of interest on you.

You weren't exactly used to the attention. You were from small, quiet city where something loud happened obviously, but it was only from time to time. And still your family decided that you should try it out there, in bigger town, with more opportunities. You didn't oppose to that, but it was something completely new. You had to redo your whole lifestyle practically.

You parked your car near the school and sighed. It would be okay. It would be alright. You could do that. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. You should at least try. There was always an option to return back to your family after all. Finally you gathered your thoughts and left the car.

On your way to school you met with couple of strange looks, but tried your hardest to dismiss them. You met with the teacher that was assigned to show you around and it turned out fine, you almost remembered everything. The last stop was your first class. While teacher was introducing you, you looked at your new classmates. Couple of them caught your eye, but you still didn't let your gaze linger on them for long. Even if they were pretty. Even if one especially hot brunette returned your look, and then turned away to whisper something to his more giddy blonde friend.

But the lesson was normal. Everything was pretty much normal. It scared you to some extent. Normal... wasn't your thing. You were paranoid and you started to overthink that these silent looks were holding something behind them.

So you decided to calm yourself down and distance yourself from all the noise. Noone had introduced themselves to you yet, so you could sit alone without awkward interactions. On the lunch break you went out of the building, sitting under the tree. Sandwich in one hand, book in the other one, you finally managed to calm yourself down.

"Hey there!" You jumped in surprise, looking at the girl in front of you. There were two of them actually, but the one who greeted you, stood a little bit closer to you. Blonde one with wide smile and bright clothes. "I'm Tatum. Mind if we sit?"

"Uhm... No, not at all." You smiled sheepishly, coughing from the sandwich that got stuck in your throat. The girl with dark hair passed you the bottle of water.

"Sorry if we scared you. I'm Sidney." She offered you a small smile.

"Y/N. It's fine, I was too invested in the book." You shook your head, forcing yourself to relax a bit. You were ought to have at least couple of conversations, you just had to not look freaky during those.

"What is that?" Tatum asked, biting an apple. You smiled, closing the book.

"Poetry. My elder brother gave it to me before I came here, so I decided I should give it a try." They looked cool and easy-going. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard fitting in here and all you worries were up for nothing.

"That's boring!" You jumped in surprise once again, when tall blonde guy from your first class that day plopped on the grass near Tatum.

"If you can't read, Stu, that doesn't mean that it's not interesting for everybody else." Tatum scoffed and looked at you. "Don't mind Stu, he can be a lot sometimes."

"I have a lot of something, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows, looking at you with a smirk.

"I have never heard lamer pickup line... " You mumbled to yourself. But the company heard you pretty well, Sidney giggled, while Tatum loudly laughed.

"You are gonna fit just fine. But don't worry. He barks, but not bites." She winked at you. You smiled a bit in response, distracting yourself with more sandwich.

"I am deeply wounded." Stu playfully put his hand to the forehead, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't lie, he was cute. And funny to some extent. But he was too much, you weren't used to that. Oh well, another new thing for you.

"Can I look? Or is it too personal?" Sidney asked, motioning to your book. You moved it closer to your side, shaking your head. There were so much notes from your brother, most of it were filled with your inside jokes or personal things. You didn't want anyone to even get a glimpse of it.

"Sorry, no." You smiled awkwardly and quickly changed the theme. "I meant to ask, I am still bad with directions here, as I am obviously new. I have biology next, maybe you could help me to get there?"

"I can!" Stu grinned, excitedly raising his arm, as if he was volunteering at something. "We have the same class!"

"Lord, have mercy on your soul." Sidney joked, making you smile a bit.

You sat there a little longer, the girls making sure to know you a bit more and vice versa, as you gave each other bits of your personal life. You didn't want to spill it all, you were closed person, and your family wasn't a simple one, but still you told them that you liked poetry, movies and rock music. Stu occasionally insert his opinion, making the atmosphere lighter and even leading the talk into completely other direction.

"Finally, we are alone." Macher smirked, when you both parted your ways with the girls. You smiled awkwardly.

"You are way too flirty for someone with a girlfriend." In the past fifteen minutes you learned that this was just how Stu was, now you getting used to it was just the matter of time. The boy scoffed.

"There is no fun in being sad and serious all the time, you know?" He was light, almost jumping with every step. You smiled at this, trying to remember the way to the class at the same time. None of the people you knew before had the same lightness to them. "So how is our citadel of boring knowledge? Different from your past one?"

"I... I was home-schooled, so... I honestly can't make comparison." You admitted shyly. Stu suddenly gasped and stopped right in front of you, looking at you with wide eyes. You stopped with him.

"No way! You have never been to school before?!" You shrugged, not understanding his excitement.

"Yeah... We... I am from small town, our school wasn't big enough, so I was at home." Macher laughed excitedly, grabbing your shoulders.

"You are so lucky!!! Tell me more about it. Who was your teacher? Your mom?" You shivered, anxiety slowly crawling back into your soul, as the loud boy definitely drew attention to you and standing in the middle of corridor wasn't the best place for flashbacks. But before you could say anything else, someone suddenly smacked Stu on the back of his head.

"You are annoyingly loud, dude." You looked to the side and saw a brunette, that caught your eye from earlier. He looked you up and down. "I hope he didn't scare you."

"No... Just... Too much. First day and everything." You breathed out with a nervous smile. The boy nodded.

"I know the feeling. Billy. Billy Loomis. And you are Y/N. I remember the introduction." Strange, but you felt more at ease with his presence. Stu got quieter, rubbing his head and letting you go, looking between you and Billy, but he didn't try to be loud anymore. That sudden change of character was a bit weird, but... You set the thought aside.

"Good to meet you. Uhm... I think the class is starting soon."

"Yeah, let's go, we don't want to be late because of someone's never shutting mouth." Billy glared at Stu. They exchanged looks and suddenly Macher went back to being his loud, overreacting himself, bickering with his more calm and silent friend back and forth, as you were following them to the class. Something here was fishy. They were strange, even if you couldn't explain what it was exactly. But that was definitely better than quiet normallness of this place.

***

"What the hell did you do with it?" You straightened up, looking at Stu. He was too busy whispering something to Tatum. Probably something lewd, knowing him. "Hey, earth to Stu!" The boy raised his eyes to look at you.

"Huh? Yes, my lovely mechanic?" He smiled widely at you, probably being concentrated on Tatum in his arms still.

"What the hell did you do to your car that it's so broken, but still running?" You looked at him exhasperatedly. You were regretting the decision to tell the guys that you know your ways around cars. The minute Macher heard about that, he asked you to take a look at his car. And it was awful.

"Magic fingers." He smirked, wiggling his fingers. You rolled your eyes, turning back to the car. What did you expect from him? Serious answer? It had been couple of weeks of you in this town, you should have get used to his persona.

"You are really good with it." Sidney noticed, sitting in the chair, warming under the sun. The garage door was open to let the warm air in, and music was playing, but she spoke loud and clear for you to hear her. "I mean, car stuff." You scoffed.

"My brother is... Kinda a mechanic. He usually took me with him to the repair shop, when I was younger. And I picked a thing or two... How in the living hell this is connected?!" You groaned, disconnecting the wrong tube. If your brother was here, he would be so angry at Stu for doing this to his car. Thankfully, you weren't your brother. Only tiny bit like him.

You were too concentrated on your work, figuring out what was wrong here and what to do to fix it. Even if Stu could drive just fine, it would still be easier if the car would be repaired. You could almost hear his whistles and screams, when the drive would be fast and smooth. And honestly, you couldn't wait to see him excited like that.

"Y/N, maybe you should..."

"Fuck off while I'm busy!" You cursed at the sudden interruption and pushed someone who came closer to you before you could realise what you were doing. And when you did understood what just happened, you raised the eyes to see Billy. With an empty glass. And wet t-shirt. "Oh my god, I am so sorry. I got so into work I forgot everything. That was so rude of me."

"It's... Fine." He muttered, looking at your face. Something in his eyes made you shiver. Something that was too familiar, but still unpredictable. Something that almost made you check the garage for ways around. "Just thought you got overheated and needed a break."

"Yeah... You are probably right." His face softened, but the glint of something you saw in his eyes stayed somewhere in his face. You just knew it. You could almost feel it. "I will fix your t-shirt, so sorry again."

"Wow, someone wants to see Billy without his shirt." Stu whistled, breaking your strange eye contact. You looked at him, noticing his too satisfied smirk. Like he was enjoying the situation. These two from the start were the only ones who didn't look normal to you. To others - maybe. But you knew all to well to look behind the scene.

"If I wanted to look at the man, who's taken, I would search movies with Tom Cruise." You blurted out without thinking. In a second the garage was filled with laughter and Tatum's discussion on the theme of hot actors, and the feeling of something weird in the air disappeared. But when you went back to the car, you could feel eyes on the back of your head and on your hands.

***

"Who's Casey?" You asked Tatum, as you were walking to the school. The whole town it seemed, was full of talks and whispers. And the more information there was, the harder it was for you to understand what was really going on.

"The girl Sidney was sitting in English with. And her boyfriend was the captain of football team." She answered, watching Prescott joining you both. "They say that they both were gutted, like from side to side."

"They say a lot of things, but what is the truth?" You sighed, walking with them, mind filled with thoughts. You didn't know that your move here would result in you finding yourself in this events.

"Who knows? Police won't tell us the truth. But if you are curious, I can bribe Dewey."

"Don't... All of it is clearly enough to get the basic idea." You shook your head, somehow feeling sick to your stomach. Your mind was convinced that you were smelling sweet, rotten scent in the air. Hotness rolled of your skin, like you were in a stuff place or near candles. Your mind wondered somewhere else. Suddenly there was rough voice in your head telling you to follow the rules, so you wouldn't get hurt, to stay back and don't interfere.

"...just imagine." You shivered, realising you were in the classroom already. You were too gone in your own head to remember how you got to your desk. Stu was turned to you, grinning like crazy. Like always. He probably was mumbling about something for quite some time.

"Sorry... What?" You asked him, looking at him puzzled, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I said, imagine yourself on her place. It must be awful." He giggled. Horror fanatic. You shook your head absent-mindedly. You knew the rules of surviving. You knew how to not attract the attention and live through this. You shouldn't be worried about it, but you couldn't help it.

"I have a knife from my brother." You answered quietly, looking away from him. Stu whistled, licking his lips, his eyes are burning with genuine interest.

"Don't tell cops that." Billy scoffed, sitting at desk in front of you with a huff. "They asked me if I was a hunter." He added.

"Come on, Billy, it couldn't be our Y/N. Look at them. They can't hurt a fly." Stu put a hand on your shoulder, shaking you a bit.

"Yes. I have never killed a person. I can't kill." You scoffed nervously, too deep in your thoughts again, not noticing the glare from both of the boys.

***

"Why the fuck this dick wasn't at his home." Breathed out Stu. Billy shushed him, adjusting the gloves.

"It doesn't matter. Jason will get what's coming to him. But his girlfriend should go down tonight." He whispered, checking the voice changer and going over every detail of their plan for today one more time. They were near the house of one of the most rudest bitches Billy had ever met. And he wanted to teach all the town a lesson. Even if it would be through hands of Stu. Loomis would gladly just watch the scene go down. He called the number, they both were ready to start.

"Yeah?" Loomis froze for a second. That was definitely not Britney's voice in the phone. But he was sure that she would be alone, he and Stu learned all about her day beforehand.

"Can I hear Brit?" He still asked with changer near his mouth. If there was only two of them, there shouldn't have been any problems.

"Oh, no, she's busy. Bye." He could swear he heard a giggle, before the phone died. And not like someone just hung up on him, but like something happened to the phone itself.

"Dude? What is it?" Stu looked at him nervously. He couldn't just sit there and wait. He was ready to pounce at any moment, but Loomis was concerned and shook his head.

"There's something wrong. Come on, let's get a closer look inside..."

There were three victims already. Two of them died on the same night. There were too much talks. Too much noise. And it was never-ending. After failed attack on Sidney and Billy's arrest and quick freeing of him you only grew more nervous. With the situation, with yourself... Besides, family on the other side of the rare phonecalls you had with them, weren't pleased to learn that you or even them could be in danger. You had to talk with them for a long time to convince them to let you stay there, as you didn't want to go back to old and small town. Yet. But also you had to find the way to get all of your emotions out and not just in chit-chat with Tatum. You had to find the exit to your anger, home-sickness and anxiety. It was just...

"...too much, you know?" You said quietly, rocking in the kitchen chair. "I am used to one lifestyle. And then I moved. And got used to quietness here. And then this. I'm just going crazy, do you understand?"

"I can't..." The girl before you whimpered. You sighed, that was called an ungrateful listener. Billy would have listened and even answer something or give an advice. But he was too pretty and had a lot on his plate to talk with him like that.

"Look, all I am saying that even if I missed this... Adrenaline rush, screams and blood and tension, I never expected someone to be so absorbed with one theme for days. It is tiring to hear about murders and never getting a rest from it, you know?"

"You did all of that!" She suddenly screamed. You rolled your eyes tiredly. Even Stu listened better, and he had an attention span of a toothpick.

"Damn, I get that you are blonde, but I don't think that you are that dumb. And last time I checked you weren't deaf." You stood up, noticing how she immediately tensed up. It was surprisingly nice - feeling such kind of power over people. You made two slow steps to her. "Casey, her boyfriend and that boy from two days ago - aren't my victims. I don't kill people. I don't kill them at all, that is the rule."

"You killed Jason!" You laughed at her face in response and looked at the lifeless body between you two, bending to it.

"No. You did." You answered with a laugh, shaking your head. "I just hurt him, wounded him with a knife. He could have made it with quick medical assistance, if you didn't pull the knife out so roughly."

"You sick fucker..." She whimpered, sobbing. Tainted with blood on her hands, face and blonde hair, she almost looked pretty. You guessed you could see now where your brother was taking inspiration from.

"Aren't we all?" You licked your lips, enjoying the emotional relief maybe a little bit too much.

"I will tell everyone."

"No, you won't." You scoffed, stepping away from the girl, as you straightened your posture. "Firstly, you won't live long enough to tell the story, you will kill yourself. Secondly, everyone will think that this was Ghostface doing, not mine. No one will think about two killers at the same time at the same space, there isn't even such cliche in horror movies. Thirdly..."

She suddenly launched herself forward. Grabbing the bloody knife from the counter, she raised her hand for a strike, but... You stepped back, hiding behind the table. In attempt to chase you, Britney ran after you, but... She stumbled in the slippery pool of blood. Trying to soften the fall, the girl instinctively put her hands before her, forgetting about the knife. She fell on the floor with a loud thud. With her face on the blade.

"Great. Why the hell they never listen?" You laughed out tiredly. You weren't lying to her one bit. You didn't kill a soul. Always playing the luring role, always on the background, while others were doing their work. But you knew how victims were. How they behaved and what they did in situations like that. It didn't change one bit. Never did.

You sighed, looking at the now lifeless body, going around the table. You had to turn the girl on the back to take out the knife from her head. After all it was handmade by your brother. More so, if you were using the cover of Ghostface... He had never left the weapon behind.

Now it was your time to go. There was always a timer in your head, when you should show up, what should you say and when you should hide.

You stopped at the door though. You could swear you were being watched. But it felt almost like you were back at home. You weren't in danger. Just someone was overwatching you. Still, you were tense by this, making you remember all of the other rules. So many mixed signals...

You shook your head, going out and closing the door behind yourself, only then taking off your gloves. All that mattered was that now you knew how to let all of your emotions out. You snickered to yourself, walking away from the property. You really took after your family.

"Oh my god... Did you see that?" Stu laughed, hysterically and excitedly at the same time, closing his mouth with his hand.

"Yes, and I heard most of that, you ask me this for the fifth time." Answered Billy, watching from the open window of the kitchen, how you walked out of the house and went away, like nothing happened. They hid near it almost for entire ordeal, not entirely believing what was unraveling before them.

"We definitely have to pay them a visit, dude. For shits and giggles, for scares, I don't know. I just want them." Stu rarely got this excited, even if he was giddy all the time. But this whole scene made him all more interested in you. It made him look at you from the other perspective and rethink all of the strange moments with you. You were pretty, funny, with silver tongue and witty comebacks. He knew there was something more, and he was right. And Billy felt it too. And they both wanted the same thing now. Loomis smirked, and his wicked grin resembled one on Stu's face.

"Of course we visit them... I want to see what else our dearest Y/N Sinclair is capable of..."

#the scream #scream #the scream 1996 #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #ghostface #poly!ghostface #ghostface x reader #scream imagine #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral #house of wax #sinclair #house of was imagine

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v-o-i-d-e-d · 5 months

Note

I've been binging romcoms with my younger sister and we just finished "To all the boys I have loved before" and now I can't get the idea out of my head: reader writing letters for different starfleet members without intending to send them and suddenly the letters are gone and being sent to their unintended targets (lol, probably Jim did it not knowing that they were not supposed to be read or something). Problem is: our favorite vulcan will too be receiving quite a love letter. Idk, I just thought it was cute, you can ignore if it's too silly ^\\\^

This was such a cute request and I love rom-com-type situations so I ran wild. Also, I'm sorry that this took so long for me to get out I have been busy with school and other annoying responsibilities! I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Spock x Kirk!reader

Warnings- none!

Word Count: 4047 my hand slipped

Lieutenant (Y/N) Kirk had been having a totally normal day. She completed her duties on the bridge as normal and had just finished eating dinner with her brother Jim. Now as she headed back to her room, she could not wait to shower, crawl into bed, and enjoy the next few hours of sleep before she had to get up and do everything again. When she entered her room the automated door hissed closed and she was finally completely alone. She took a deep breath and turned the lights in the room on. She almost immediately noticed something that completely ruined her peace.

Earlier that morning, (Y/N) was clearing out her storage closet and had sat a white box full of envelopes on her dining room table so that she would remember to find a new place for them. That box was no longer on the table. Now, one might think why is a missing box of envelopes a big deal? Well, they aren’t. It’s the fact that the envelopes were all properly addressed and full of letters to people she knew that she never intended to send. A few sappy ‘thank you’s to old teachers, a couple to her higher-ups including Captain Christopher Pike – the man who told the Kirk siblings to enroll in Star Fleet Academy. These letters would be slightly embarrassing if they got out but nothing (Y/N) couldn’t handle. After all, everything she wrote in them was true and she appreciates everything those people have done for her. There was only one letter in that whole box that worried (Y/N)—her love letter – a detailed love letter – to one Commander Spock. She cursed herself for writing and keeping a love letter in the first place though she didn’t anticipate the whole box would disappear. She tried to think back to earlier to see if she could remember if she moved it, but when she left her room after lunch it was still on the table and she hadn’t returned since.

“This can’t be happening. It didn’t just sprout legs and walk away!” She said to herself. (Y/N) ran a hand down her face and thought hard. She paused, “No fucking way.” She exited her room at a jog and progressively got faster as she headed toward her brother’s room. She slid to a stop in front of the white door of the captain's quarters and rapidly slammed her fist against it.

“James, open the door right now!”

The door slid open revealing a perplexed – and slightly afraid – Jim Kirk. He knew he had done something wrong for her to be angry enough to come to his room calling him by his full name. Of course, he had no idea what he had done but he decided it was best to try to start off ahead.

“Look, I know you’re upset about-“

“Did you move the white box on my dining room table when you were in my room earlier?”

“Wait, what? That’s what you’re mad about?” Jim scrunched his face up and scratched the top of his head. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and she briefly looked around the corridor before shoving Jim back into his room and following him in. The door shut with a hiss and (Y/N) closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes Jim was staring at her with a confused expression and his hands crossed over his chest.

“Please, for the love of god, tell me you didn’t mail those letters,” (Y/N) said as calmly as she possibly could. Silence followed her question and she already knew the answer.

“Well –“

“Oh. My. God.”

“There was a box of addressed envelopes on the table so I thought you needed them mailed!”

“Jim! Why would you mail someone else's letters? Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?” (Y/N) was absolutely freaking out and, for the life of him, Jim couldn’t understand why.

“I was trying to be nice! I knew you had a long day today and I wanted to take something off your plate! Excuse me for being a good brother,” Jim rolled his eyes at his sister and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Well, jackass, a good brother would have asked before just taking a box from his sister’s room and now there is a love letter headed to your second in command!”

A long pause followed her statement. Jim blinked once. Twice. Then a prolonged third blink.

“What?” Jim had no idea what to say. (Y/N) groaned and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. She began to pace in the entryway and ramble about how dumb she was to write it in the first place and how she should have burned the letters when she had the chance. Jim finally shook his head to rouse himself out of his stunned silence.

“Why the hell would you write a love letter…to Spock? Or to anyone for that matter what is this 1812?” Jim chuckled at his own joke but covered it with a cough when (Y/N) glared at him.

“I don’t know! I like writing letters and I just started writing one day and it turned into a full blown sappy confession that I had planned to keep hidden till the day I died! Now it’s headed off to the last person in the universe who I wanted to see it.”

“Well, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

“I want you to stop talking.”

“No, I’m serious maybe this is what you two need to stop dancing around the obvious!” Jim gestured vaguely with his hands as (Y/N) ceased her pacing. She sighed and shook her head.

“Jim, we’ve been over this: Spock does not feel that way about me. And that’s fine!” (Y/N) and her brother had had many conversations about this subject. Always with Jim insisting that the feelings were mutual and (Y/N) denying that Spock would ever even look at her in that way. I’m his best friend’s little sister and his subordinate, she thought, He’s way too professional for that.

Before Jim could respond, both of their communicators chimed. They were being called back to the bridge for an emergency. They briefly held eye contact before rushing toward the door. As they jogged toward the bridge, (Y/N) continued the conversation.

“Okay did you just mail them today?”

“Why are we still talking about this?”

“Because I want to know how long I have to transfer to another part of the fucking galaxy to avoid embarrassment,” They turned a corner and the lights flickered before flashing red. The ship shuttered and Jim and (Y/N) struggled to regain footing.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping whatever just happened happened to happen to the mail room?”

“Yes. And that was way too many uses of the word ‘happened’.”

Six hours and several shots fired later, the trouble was averted. A rogue Klingon battalion had decided to attack the Enterprise while it was stationary and almost destroyed the engines but quick thinking from Jim, (Y/N), Spock, and Sulu had saved the day. (Y/N) was officially beyond exhausted. She was so tired, in fact, that she forgot about the whole letter situation and went straight to bed after the whole debacle was over.

Day 1 of waiting:

She slept blissfully and woke up rested and ready for the day. She had gotten dressed and ready and made her way back to the bridge. Unfortunately, her blissful restfulness was cut short when she laid eyes on a certain Commander and remembered the imminent embarrassment that was bound to ruin her life at some point this week.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Kirk. You look rested.” Spock greeted her with a nod as he fell in step with her toward the bridge elevator.

“Uh, yeah, good morning,” (Y/N) managed to only stutter once and she quickly cleared her throat. She shouldn’t be freaking out. They walked together to the bridge all the time. Of course, normally Jim is with them but still, casual meetings with Spock were not entirely out of the ordinary. As they walked, silence filled the space between the two and, to (Y/N), it was suffocating. Something on her face must have given away the fact that something was wrong.

“Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant?” Spock asked. His face was neutral but he side eyed (Y/N) intensely. Briefly, (Y/N) met his heavy gaze before looking straight ahead.

“Yup, feeling absolutely terrific!” She couldn’t even believe herself. Spock raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak again but, luckily for (Y/N), he was interrupted.

“Lieutenant Kirk.” It was Scotty. God bless him! (Y/N) thought.

“What’s up, Scotty?” Was that the formal way to address him? No. But (Y/N) just wanted to get out of speaking with Spock one-on-one.

“I need to speak to you. There are some issues with a few of the privates stationed in the engine room and I could use your help to resolve the issue before I throw some people out of the airlock!” His accent was strong with annoyance and (Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sure thing,” She turned to Spock who had paused beside her, “You go on to the bridge, I’ll be in the engine room if you need me in the meantime.” Without waiting for an answer, (Y/N) hurried toward the engine room leaving Scotty to trail behind.

Day 2 of waiting:

It was only the second day, and Spock had already caught on to the fact that (Y/N) was avoiding him. (Y/N) knew it was not going to be easy to allude him while also keeping it a secret that she was doing it on purpose, after all – Spock isn’t an idiot and (Y/N) is anything but subtle. Spock and (Y/N) had a routine and of course in an effort to not speak to him (Y/N) had changed it so that she was usually off the bridge when Spock was there and vice versa.

“Lieutenant Kirk you are needed on the bridge,” Chekov’s thick accent crackled through (Y/N)’s communicator and she sighed. She knew Spock would be there which is why she was currently in the engine room recalibrating the warp drive. It was busy work that she normally wouldn’t do but anything to avoid the impending embarrassment.

“On my way.”

When she arrived, Spock immediately shifted his gaze from his work to her. (Y/N) briefly met his gaze before walking toward her brother who was seated in his chair with his legs thrown over the armrest. She rolled her eyes.

“What do you want, Jim?”

“That’s no way to address your captain, Lieutenant,” Jim had a smug smile on his face – as usual – and it took everything in (Y/N) not to smack him on the back of his head.

“Tell me what you want or I’m leaving. I was working, unlike some people,” She scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into her hip.

“Okay, I am sending you and Spock on a mission,” Jim’s smirk got wider as he noticed his sister’s eye twitch in annoyance. “The planet we’re coming up on is supposed to be abandoned but there should be evidence of a previous civilization. I figured with your archeological knowledge and Spock’s general smart-assery you two would fit the job perfectly.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath in through her nose as she glared at Jim. She sneaked a glance at Spock.

He was listening in on the conversation – an action he deemed logical since it also pertained to him. His eyes were focused on the screen in front of him but he could see (Y/N) from the corner of his eye. He noticed her normally relaxed state was exchanged for tensed shoulders and a glowering expression. Whatever had been going on yesterday had most certainly carried into today. He thought. (Y/N) Kirk was one of his closest friends just as James Kirk was. Though many things that the younger Kirk did were illogical and not well thought out, she knew how to get the results she wanted and always figured out a way for everyone to be happy or at least safe. Spock enjoyed her company even more than he enjoyed her brother’s. She was smart, kind, and usually quiet if it was just the two of them. She was a challenging chess opponent and someone dear to his heart. Not that he would say that to her.

(Y/N) sighed, “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be in the atmosphere at around 12 o’clock Earth time so you’ve got plenty of time to research and prepare. Why don’t you and Spock take the rest of the day for whatever nerd stuff you need to do,” Jim waved his sister off before getting up and leaving the bridge. (Y/N) glared at his back as he left before begrudgingly walking over to Spock.

“Hey, Spock,” she said. Her eyes were focused on the ground rather than up at the Vulcan who was looking at her intently. (Y/N) took a breath in through her nose before finally lifting her gaze to meet Spock’s, “Let’s go get some lunch and we can talk about the mission.”

Before the Vulcan had the chance to respond, (Y/N) quickly turned on her hell and started walking toward the elevator. Spock easily caught up to her before the doors closed and as the elevator began to descend, Spock spoke up.

“(Y/N), are you feeling ill?” Spock dropped the formalities and asked straight out. (Y/N) lifted an eyebrow and looked at her Commander with a curious gaze.

“No, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” This was a stupid question, (Y/N) realized. Her behavior was at best erratic and clearly intentional so it was only logical for Spock to know something was wrong. She did breathe an internal sigh of relief knowing that Spock hadn’t received the letter, otherwise, she was sure he would have confronted her by now – mutual feelings or not.

“You’ve been acting strange for the last couple of days. I want to be sure that your behavior will not negatively affect your performance on this mission.”

(Y/N) fought the urge to roll her eyes as the elevator doors hissed open. Of course. She thought. He’s only worried about this dumb mission my dumb brother is sending us on to torture me.

“I am also worried about your well-being, Lieutenant.” Spock’s surprising sentiment almost made (Y/N) trip on her own foot. She cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders as they turned the corner of the hallway.

“I promise, I’m okay. Just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Ah, yes, the letter.”

(Y/N) swore her heart stopped right there in the hallway. She hesitantly looked at Spock, trying her best to keep her expression as neutral as his. She didn't know how to respond I could play dumb, she mused, but he’s too smart for that to work. The man knows my handwriting so it would be impossible for me to deny that I wrote it. She took a deep breath through her nose, Fuck it.

“Yeah, actually that is what’s on my mind. And honestly, I had hoped I could just ignore the problem but I should have known that wouldn’t work with you.” (Y/N) rambled.

“Why would this be a problem?” Spock tilted his head slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, something that (Y/N) found impossible endearing.

“It could ruin things! In so many ways!” By now, (Y/N) was pacing the hallway and Spock was more confused than ever. “You’re my superior officer and I just sent a love letter to you! Of course, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to send it that would be my genius brother. But I was dumb enough to leave the box out and allow him into my room! But I mean, who mails other people’s letters without asking? What was he even thinking?”

“(Y/N) –“

“I’m so sorry! I seriously didn’t mean to tell you like this and if I’m honest, I didn’t intend on telling you at all! My feelings were supposed to be kept to myself! Well, to myself and Jim but he’s a nosey bastard who obviously can’t mind his business! I don't know why I tell him anything and honestly, I wish he’d just – “

“(Y/N).” Spock, tired of listening to her pointlessly rambling on about how annoying her brother is – a fact he knew to be true – grabbed her gently by the shoulder to get her to stop pacing. Now that she wasn’t speaking and instead was staring up at him like a kicked puppy waiting to be scolded his mind went blank. Spock was officially at a loss for words. “I was talking about the letter of promotion Admiral Pike sent you. About the head of engineering position.”

She wanted to disappear. Perhaps if she willed it hard enough, she could fade from existence on the spot. For once, it was running her own mouth that got her in trouble instead of her brother’s. (Y/N) tried to read Spock’s expression but couldn’t and that sent even more anxiety straight to her gut.

“Oh.” That was all she managed to say. She quickly regained her wits, “Then just forget everything I said and we can just go back to normal!” She let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a cry and started to walk in the direction of the cafeteria. However, Spock hadn’t let go of her shoulder and as she walked away his grip slipped from her shoulder down to her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait.” That was all he managed to say. His mind was still reeling trying to decipher her quick words. A love letter. He thought. She loves me? He couldn’t believe it. “You love me?”

Despite her distraught state, she had to admit she had never seen Spock looking so dumbfounded, as if what she said was something he had never thought of in any scenario. His hand still held hers firmly and he gently pulled her back towards him. “You love me.” He said again, though this time it seemed as though he was finally understanding the situation.

“Okay, Spock, you’re starting to sound like a broken record, and the record is titled Hurting (Y/N)’s Feelings.” She chuckled only to keep herself from bursting into tears out of sheer embarrassment. This was the moment she was dreading. The absolute end of a friendship and a lifetime of shame. I’ll have to go into exile. Maybe I’ll ask Scotty to throw me out of the airlock. She thought. Just as she was about to speak again, Spock dropped her hand turned on his heel, and headed back in the direction they came from. That was when the damn broke and (Y/N)’s eyes welled up with hot tears. Blinking rapidly, she haphazardly looked around the hallway to make sure no one saw her before jetting away in the direction of her room.

“You left her in the hallway?” Jim was on the verge of shouting. He was absolutely flabbergasted at Spock’s behavior. Spock rolled his eyes.

“I was unsure of what I was supposed to do.”

“So you decided to leave my baby sister in the hallway, by herself, after basically confessing her undying love for you.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Trust me, I am not.” Jim ran a hand through his hair and huffed out an annoyed sigh. He paced back and forth, a habit that Spock noticed the siblings share, before looking back at his second in command. “Okay, you have to go after her.”

Spock knew this. It was obviously the most logical course of action. There was only one problem: “What am I supposed to say to her?”

“Apologize for rudely walking away, first off. Then – and this is just a spitball idea – tell her you feel the same!”

Jim was actually convinced that Spock’s brain had short-circuited. Spock wasn’t firing on all cylinders because if he was, he would understand the logical thing to do. Secretly, Jim was happy this situation happened. He had been trying to the Spock and his sister together for months now but he found the process to be similar to cutting a tree down with a blunt axe.

“Beginning a relationship with Lieutenant Kirk would violate –“

“Not if she accepts the promotion.”

“She’d still be my subordinate!”

“Only in the same way Scotty is our subordinate! He only has to listen to us sometimes.”

“That is not how the ranking system works.”

“Who cares?” Jim was tired of arguing with Spock over something that seemed so obvious. Spock felt the same way. “Listen, if you don’t want to tell her you have feelings for her I can’t make you. What I can tell you is that no matter what you do the sentence needs to start with I’m sorry and end with something nice. Turn off the Vulcan side for a change, not everything you do has to be completely logical. Sometimes we just need to do things that we want.”

It must have been a strange sight. The commanding officer of the USS Enterprise stood stiffly in front of (Y/N)’s quarters. He was still trying to figure out what exact words he needed to say and he had taken to scratching at his cuticles out of nervousness. I should not just be standing here. He thought. Shaking his head and finally lifting his clenched fist, he knocked twice. Panic briefly set into his veins as he realized he was actually going to have to talk to (Y/N). A cold shiver ran up his spine as the door’s airlock hissed open and revealed (Y/N) on the other side. He could tell she had been crying, though the tears seemed to be mostly dry by now. Her red-rimmed eyes lightly glared up at him and she crossed her arms tightly over her body.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was scratchy and her words were punctuated by a sniffle. Spock felt an ache deep in his gut from knowing he had made her feel this way.

“I-“ He paused. Once again he was speechless but he was determined to make this right. “I apologized for the way I behaved. Leaving you there after such an important moment was not the right thing to do and I am sorry for hurting you.” Even as he did his best to keep his tone even he couldn’t help the slight waver in his voice.

“It’s alright, Spock. Honest. I’ll be okay and ready for the mission tomorrow. Like I said we can just go back to normal and forget about it.” She was offering him an out. He knew he could easily just take it and go but part of him, a large part of him refused to give up that easily.

“No.”

“What?”

“I do not wish to return to normal.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) believed this to be the final moment of friendship. He wanted nothing to do with her anymore. “Um, okay. I guess you can just do the mission alone or ask my brother to –“

“You misunderstand. I do not want to return to normal because I reciprocate your feelings of affection.”

Oh. (Y/N) thought. A moment of silence passed between them. Spock watched (Y/N)’s face for any sign of emotion but she seemed frozen. He wouldn’t lie, she thought. Vulcans don’t lie. “You do?” her voice was quieter than she intended, almost a whisper.

Spock took her hand in his larger one. “Of course I do. I believe an adequate way to put it would be you have bewitched me, body and soul.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the giggle, “So you do listen when I talk about Jane Austin. I thought you found romance novels illogical.”

“Everything about you is illogical, but that is one of the many things I find alluring about you.” They both smiled. (Y/N) had only seen Spock actually smile a few times and each time it was like new life had filled her lungs but this time it was even better knowing that the smile was put there solely for her. And this time, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing that smile even if she tried.

#spock imagine #spock x reader #aos Spock #jim kirk #to all of the boys I've loved before #love letter #miscommunication #i wrote too many words i'm so sorry #actually no i'm not

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snailor-bee · 7 months

Text

Marco x NB!Reader / SFW / 2.1k Summary: Marco is finally going to confess to you! If only it would stop going wrong... Notes: Written for @op-xreader-zine! All the art is done by the amazing @issatheartist thank you for working with me on this! ;w;

This was it! Marco was finally going to do it. He was going to walk up to you and confess.

He'd been crushing on you for a while now and it was time. He'd dealt with the teasing from his brothers and the nurses for far too long. Originally Marco had held himself back because he hadn't wanted to ruin what the two of you already had.

Friends, nakama, family.

Still, everyone had insisted that he go for it and had completely ignored his reasonings for maybe why he shouldn't—"Marco, you can't seriously use your rank as an excuse; the only person higher than you is Pops"—so that's how he found his hands sweating, wrapped around a bouquet of flowers.

Maybe it was a bit simple but at this point, Marco figured it was better than nothing. His head felt like a jumbled mess and he hadn't really planned out how he was going to do this but he'd wing it as he went along, all Marco had to do was find you and—

So distracted by his thoughts, he bounced off someone's body made a little oof of pain.

"Marco!" Izou's voice broke through his thoughts. "Watch where you're going. What are you doing?"

"I, uh," he couldn't bring himself to say it. Izou was the ship's gossip and if Marco said he was looking for you in order to confess then you'd hear about it before Marco even got to you. Sweat beaded at his brow as Izou's sharp gaze took him in. Uncharacteristically, Marco knew he looked nervous.

Which might as well have been blood in the water for a shark, when one was dealing with Izou.

Then all at once, Izou's posture softened and he smiled. "Are those for me?? For my birthday!? Oh, you shouldn't have, these are my favorite too!" Still gushing, Izou grabbed the bouquet and Marco was too stunned to stop him.

"A-ah, yes. I was worried you wouldn't like them, yoi," he said, going for a smile. It was a bit strained but Izou didn't seem to notice. Marco cursed himself internally. He'd been so focused on the almost-not-quite-confession, Izou's birthday had completely slipped his mind.

"No, they're perfect ," Izou enthused happily and Marco sighed fondly, letting the anxiety of confronting you fade. He could always do it later.

The next 'attempt' wasn't really an attempt.

Marco had been walking down a street when his inner phoenix noticed a section of smooth rocks. Without too much thought, he reached out and snatched one up. He frequently did this; the drawers in his office were filled with random bits and bobs, shiny pieces of metal, rocks, and other random things that appealed to his phoenix half for whatever reason. Marco never mentioned it to anyone but a few of his brothers who had been around him for years had picked up on it, though they were kind enough not to point it out.

So, without much thought, when he saw you chatting with some other shipmates, Marco ambled over and handed you the rock. "Here, for you."

You raised a brow and looked into your palm before running your thumb over the stone's surface, feeling out the texture.

Inside, his phoenix cooed and Marco was grateful he wasn't in his half-form. He could tell that his tails would be going wild right about now, watching your reaction.

"...Thanks," you said at last, sounding confused before you pocketed the rock and turned back to listen to the story that Ace had been in the process of telling. It didn't deter Marco at all, you had accepted it!

Feeling thrilled somewhere deep in his bones, he barely felt the jab to his ribs.

"Hey," Thatch whispered, "you know they aren't a bird, right?"

Confused, Marco cocked his head. Thatch gestured at you with his chin. "They probably don't know why you just handed them a rock. Shouldn't you be doing more, uh, human courting stuff?"

There was a few seconds of incomprehension before the meaning hit him and Marco felt like dissolving into dust and disappearing forever. He leaned over to bury his head into Thatch's shoulder to cover up the sound of his groan of pain as his brother laughed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, you'll get them next time, birdie."

Next time ended up being a love letter.

Old fashioned? Maybe. But Marco was getting desperate. At least this would be crystal clear.

He'd gone through numerous editions. The trash can in his room was overflowing with failed attempts, bunched up balls of paper scattered around his desk as he tried again and again until he finally felt he had it all down.

Exactly what about you that made him smile, how the simple sight of you lifted his spirits and the sound of your laugh made his chest tight. He'd bared it all.

Walking across the busy deck, the night breeze ruffling his hair, Marco was barely able to return the greetings he got as he passed by scattered groups. He'd locked eyes with you right away and once you noticed him coming, you'd said your goodbyes and were coming to meet him halfway.

The closer and closer the two of you got, the more and more nervous Marco became. The butterflies in his stomach were making him feel like he might throw up. What if you didn't return his feelings? What if you thought the letter was lame?

What if you went to read it right away? Oh fuck , he hadn't thought this through. He didn't want to watch your face as you read the confession, heartfelt though it may be. If you had to turn him down after he poured his heart onto the parchment, Marco really didn't know how he was going to take that.

Saying it to your face, letting you turn him down gently without realizing the true depths of his feeling was way more appealing.

His step faltered before a rush of heat flashed beside him. On instinct he tossed the letter into the roar of fire. Ace was likely showing off and didn't even notice the slight disturbance.

"What was that?" you asked, finally having made your way to him.

"Nothing," Marco said quickly. "Someone did their report so badly, so I had a bunch of corrections but thinking it over I realized I'll just have them redo it. Makes it easier, yoi."

You laughed. "Harsh. I'd hate to be them, putting in all that work for nothing."

Marco shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "Yeah but I'm sure they'll get over it."

"Wow, Marco, you're not very good at this are you?" Ace asked with a snicker. Marco glared, fork paused midway to his mouth. Thatch elbowed him good-naturedly from his side. They were sitting in the galley, the shipmates talking around them creating a symphony of noise that easily hid the conversation from others.

"Good at what, yoi?" Marco asked, placing the fork down. Thatch threw an arm around his shoulders and shook him lightly as Ace's eyes sharpened with glee.

"Now Ace," Thatch said, mockingly sweet, "don't go teasing our resident birdbrain here. He's trying so hard, the poor thing."

"Get off," Marco said, irritated as he pushed at Thatch until he let him go, laughing.

"Think they've even noticed?" Ace asked thoughtfully before shoving something into his mouth and chewing loudly.

Marco opened his mouth to answer but Thatch beat him to it. "Hopefully not, though Marco looking so pathetic has been quite amusing." Thatch batted away his hand before Marco could punch him in the ribs, the bastard.

Grunting with annoyance, Marco looked away just in time to catch you several tables away leaning your head back with a laugh and he stared, heart suddenly in his throat. He couldn't help it, you were just so—

"Plus the whole ships been taking bets at this point," Thatch tacked on and Marco tore his gaze away from you.

"What?!" Marco demanded as Ace hooted joyfully. Thatch shrugged, grinning all the while.

"Maybe you shouldn't look like a lovesick bird all the time and we wouldn't have to take bets on when you finally get your act together. Do not" —Thatch pointed a steak knife menacingly in Ace's direction after a garbled noise had started— "talk with your mouth full. Swallow."

Dutifully, Ace swallowed his barely chewed food and took a second to catch his breath before barrelling on, "Whatcha got planned next, Marco? Anything good?"

"Excuse me? All my ideas have been fine so far!" Two blank looks had his hackles raising but before he could argue more, your voice rang out.

"Hey, Marco!" Immediately he whipped his head up and caught your eye. You waved before you arrived behind Ace, patting him on the shoulder. "I was wondering if we could spar later?"

Quickly, he nodded back. "Yeah, that sounds great!" Embarrassingly, he heard his voice hit a slightly higher pitch, almost as if his voice had cracked. Ace and Thatch did a terrible job at stifling their giggles as Marco felt his face flush traitorously.

"Great!" you enthused, apparently having not noticed. "See you after lunch?"

Not trusting his voice, he nodded and you skipped away happily. Once you were far enough away, Ace and Thatch collapsed into loud laughter, Ace banging on the table as Thatch wheezed out between his laughs, "What are you Marco, twelve ?? What was that?!"

"I hate both of you," Marco grit out between clenched teeth before shoving his half finished tray of food at Ace. "Finish this, I'm leaving, yoi."

"Good luck on your dateeee," Ace managed to yell out before he got too far away. Marco flipped him off over his shoulder.

"So, Marco." You looked uncharacteristically anxious as you fidgeted and looked at everything except him. Marco felt his stomach drop to the deck. What was wrong? You hadn't... noticed had you? Fuck, this was not how he wanted you to find out.

He'd come to find you for your spar after Ace and Thatch had literally laughed him out of the galley. You'd seemed eager enough to see him before dragging him to a quiet part of the deck, mentioning you had something to say first.

Seemingly steeling your nerves, you looked into his eyes and they burned with determination.

"I've liked you for a really long time now. You're literally one of my best friends and more than that you make me feel like I can fly, like nothing could ever hurt me. I didn't really want to mention this and have it ruin our friendship but I can't keep it to myself anymore. Please go on a date with me!"

Time seemed like it stood still as he gaped at you. He could see your cheeks flush, likely with embarrassment at your proclamation but he was still reeling.

Finally, you swallowed. "And if you don't feel the same—"

"No!" he cut in, finally finding his voice. Marco grabbed up your hands, cradling them close. "No, don't. Just, I—" He chuckled with wry amusement before pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. "I'm just a little shocked. I've been trying to ask you out for ages now."

"Wait, really?" you asked, mouth dropping open. He nodded with a smile. There was a strange buzzing in his body, from his toes up to the tips of his ears. Everything felt a little fuzzy, a little warm. He wanted to run around the deck like a teenager again, grab you close and never let go, scream over the railing until he ran out of breath. So many different emotions were raging through him, he was beginning to feel dizzy from the weight of all of them.

Deciding to just pick one, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into his chest, breathing in your scent as he began to chuckle lowly. You joined in and soon the two of you were full-out laughing. When you separated, he brushed a hand against your cheek reverently, giddy that he was able to do so.

"To be honest," Marco began, "I don't think I can spar right now, I feel like my knees are made of jell-o."

You laughed again. "That's okay, I'm feeling the same. Wanna go tell Pops instead?"

Marco ran a hand through his hair, before smiling at you. "Sure. We're about to get the teasing of a lifetime."

You held out a hand and he took it, fingers twining together with yours like they were meant to be.

"We may as well get started," you said back, fondness shining in your eyes and maybe, just maybe, a hint of something more.

#one piece #one piece x reader #marco the phoenix #marco x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #bee writes #bee writing

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romeulusroy · 11 months

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Succession Preference: Baby Roy's Relationship (Non-Roy Characters)

Requested: loving all the baby roy content!! but i am curious: What are interactions with baby roy and greg like? does she bully him, too? does she just give him the sad “welcome to the shit show” smile? is she envious that he never had to grow up like this? - anon

A/N: These relationships are based on this particular fic/headcanon set. They're my favorite Baby Roy, and I think it really complicates some of these relationships! I know this was more of a question rather than a request, but I just couldn't get it out of my head!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Tom doesn't like you. You don't like Tom. The feelings are mutual. Not only do you think he isn't good enough for Shiv, which he's not, but you two have a lot of unspoken tension and hostility that's there just because you're you. Tom thinks you're a fuck-up. You're an addict and an alcoholic. You have been since you were a kid. With all the money and opportunities you and all your siblings have had, and yet you turn out like that? Rehab after rehab. Overdose after overdose. Not even your own father could stand you in those later years. He understands why he locked you in your room for days at a time, why he hired nanny after nanny so he wouldn't have to deal with you. Even your own mother doesn't love you. Tom thinks you shouldn't have any power in the company that you shouldn't have any say. Not after the stunts you've pulled. He still can't believe your brothers and sister still ask your thoughts and genuinely listen to you. You've shown him that you're not a Roy. You're not ready to hold that title. If anyone is, it's him. Not you. But he has to put up with you. You both resort to the silent treatment and talk behind one another backs. It's just easier this way.

Greg likes you, at least as much as he likes your siblings. He's kinda afraid of you. He's intimidated by you, to say the least. You're an all or nothing person. Growing up, you were in the thralls of your addiction and often got him involved. Could he go into your room and get you a white circle pill from the prescription bottle in your nightstand? Could he get you another drink? Don't tell Logan. Greg wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't say no to you. He was definitely scared of you, so often he did as he was told. Now that you're sober, he's grateful you can have some type of normal relationship. Kinda. Normal for him, at least. Like your siblings, you order him around a lot. He's in the way or just around too much. Who invited Greg? You don't see him as one of your equals. He's just there, Tom's assistant, basically. When it's just you and him, you're capable of having a relationship, but as soon as Tom invited himself, you're immediately turned off. To you, he's an extension of Tom. He's the puppet to his master. You don't have a lot of respect for him either. He does as he's told. There's no fight, there's no push back. When Tom destroyed his office he just let it happen. You have your issues, but you're not a pushover.

Marcia wants to act like your mother. She knows your mother is pretty absent and doesn't want to deal with you, contributing to your issues. She hopes that if she steps up, you'll confide in her, and you'll get your act together. She and Logan talk about your issues long before your siblings ever know. But he's not concerned. He sees no problem with it. You've gotten your temper under control. Secretly, Marcia worries, but without Logan behind her, she can do nothing. You don't like her. She's not your mother, and she never will be. Maybe she genuinely cares, maybe not. It doesn't matter to you. Years she spent watching you hurt yourself, and she did nothing. You come and go as you please. When you are home, she fears she'll have to call an ambulance every time. You and Shiv make jokes at her expense and laugh along with your brothers when they have something to say. She was an accomplice all those years, and you can't forgive her for that. She's just another one of his wives. That's it.

Gerri is a lot like your mother figure. She has the relationship that Marcia wants. She's the one you go to when you have no one else, when your father has iced you out. She's always had a soft spot for you. You're the baby, after all. She's there for your first drink, and hopefully, your last. She watched you grow up. She watched you spiral. She knew everything Logan knew. And he knew everything. It was Gerri on the phone with you after a hospital visit, telling you that she was sorry but your father was very busy, too busy to talk to you. She was the one who called, angry, fearing the worst, while in Norway. She sat in the emergency room while you got your stomach pumped. She was there through it all. Not Logan, certainly not your own mother. She gives Roman the cold shoulder, but she can't bear to let you go. You're like one of her own. She still emails, asking how you're doing. You tell her you're still sober. You definitely go to her for all your mothering needs and approval. When she's around you understand what it would have been like had your mother actually been caring and attentive.

Lukas likes you a lot. When you called them during their getaway to Norway, when you overdosed again and they came running to your rescue, he didn't see weakness like everyone else had. He saw power. He saw someone who had a shitty childhood and did something about it. Granted, it maybe wasn't the best thing, but you did something about it. It was a major middle finger to your father and everyone involved in the company. That takes guts. Far more guts than the rest of your family has, he thinks. You wouldn't meet until he signed the Gojo deal. It's there that he expresses interest in you. You aren't like your siblings. Look at you. You're barely clinging on. You're real. You're a real person with real faults and a hell of a history. He'd like to order you a water and hear all about it. Your siblings make sure you stay far away from him. He's screwed them over now. He is not to be trusted, especially around the baby of the family. Not now, not ever. You don't think you like him. He chose Tom for Christ's sake. Tom, of all people. His judgment must be piss poor if he chose Tom. He's not as smart as everyone thinks. That was a bad move for the future of the company.

Stewy is actually a good friend of yours. You've known him as long as he's known Kendall. You grew up before his eyes. You guys aren't that close outside of clubs and bars. He's a bit of partier himself. Like he says, he likes bad drugs. You two would find one another at a club and spend a few hours together. This was before your family knew about your late nights. Stewy was impressed by your tolerance, forgetting you were still just a teenager. He was too messed up to remember to care. You'd get high and dance, and at the end of the night, you'd throw however much you owed him at him. Money was never an issue. He made the mistake of bringing it up to Kendall shortly after they figured out what was going on. Kendall banned Stewy from seeing you from getting near you. How could he? You partied at all the same places. You'd assured him that Kendall was just being dramatic when he said that. Stewy wasn't your only dealer, but he was the smartest. You didn't get anything laced with him. Now you're not as close. He still says hi, but he still goes out, gets fucked up. As much as you want to, you can't.

Uncle Ewan has similar feelings towards you as Tom. He's called you a "junkie" more times than you can count. He doesn't let you defend yourself and doesn't care what your siblings have to say about it either. He doesn't see you as Logan's child or even as a Roy. As far as he's concerned, you don't exist. You don't matter. When you do see him, he always rubs your sobriety in your face. After Logan passes and you self-destruct at a club, he feels the need to ask you how much you've had to drink that day. Even at the funeral, he says he can smell an entire bar on your breath. If you weren't so afraid it would kill him, you'd punch him. Your brothers have to hold you back after a comment like that. He wasn't ever sure why Logan even had another kid. You weren't anything special to begin with. He didn't even like your mother. He knew, from the beginning, you'd be a disappointment. To Ewan, you have always been and always will be a disappointment.

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