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heartshapedbubble · 1 year

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Hi can I request Andrew, Luca, William, Wu Chang and Antonio reacting to having an s/o that can crush a watermelon between her thighs.

this req made me shit bricks when i first received it in august LMFAOOOO this was so fun to write anon thank you so much for this/gen

andrew, luca, william, wu chang and antonio reacting to their s/o crushing a watermelon between their thighs🕸⚡🏈☂️🎻

andrew kreiss🕸

he is... confused to say the least

when you first did it he jumped out of fear thinking you hurt yourself by doing so

this man would probably burst into flames after one pretzel stick he has NO idea how to react

....he'd be lying if he said it doesn't interest him though

like. he is INCREDIBLY lost and maybe even disturbed but like. do it again

"is this something they do to sinners in hell? can you use it as self defense? does it hurt your thighs?" a bit gulity of asking these questions ngl but he can't help it

might start avoiding you after that... simply out of fear that it was a bad omen and that you might try crushing his skull instead when he messes up in the games LMAO

william ellis🏈

not shocked at all

he didnt even fucking flinch when it burst he just stood there with his usual 😃 face

"hehe. nice. now watch me" (proceeds to crush a watermelon with his own thighs)

tbh william can be competitive as hell and he would somehow make a competition out of this too

after that whenever y'all ate watermelon in the manor he always shouted "DID YOU GUYS KNOW ___ CAN CRUSH WATERMELONS WITH THEIR THIGHS¿¿¿¿¿ GO ON ___ SHOW THEM!!!!"

might ask you details on how you train/build your thighs just in case...there's always room for self-improvement

next time he sees you he's going to whip out two watermelons and ask you if you can crush both at the same time (cheeky bastard)

luca balsa⚡

mans is just losing his shit at it

"how do you do it??????? how long did you have to build your legs for this??? at what angle does it crush the fastest/easiest???? what technique did you use???" like andrew but with zero self control or fear

so intrigued he'll whip out the nerd glasses and the notepad to study it. bring a few extra watermelons cause once he begins you'll realize it's gonna be a looooong day

i kinda think that he'd be more interested in the physics aspect of it than the crushing itself tbh

after enough research he would try to crush one with his own thighs

...which didn't really go well🥲he's got chopstick legs but we still love him

that absolutely did not discourage him though. he'll find a way to do it himself. somehow. one day.

wu chang☂️

their reactions are quite different

at first they just kinda... side eye each other. not condescendigly tho they just have to clarify they're both seeing the same thing since they didn't expect this when you told them you have a suprise for them

xie is like ☺ "thats... very cute honey!! i'm very proud of you!!!! you've been working very hard!!!!"

no idea how to properly react or process it really but since you seem really happy about it he simply has to share your enthusiasm okay!!! xie the world

fan just smirks. "now crush a pumpkin."

this motherfucker is going to tease you and give you more and more impossible physical challenges just to make you all red in your face and see you angrily give up just crush his head instead at this point

would rather drown himself in that goddamn river again than admit out loud that it's absolutely badass but it becomes obvious after some time. he's not an emotional mastermind after all

antonio paganini🎻

not overwhelmed by it either! hes just chill like dat

he finds it so funny actually - he's grown tired of all the elegant plays and balls that he experienced while playing for royalty so this little peculiar performance of yours put a wide smile on his face

it gave him a good laugh too, not in a mocking way it's just so bizarre and unexpected that he couldn't help but laugh

would joke about it like "i love a partner that can just beat the shit out of me" after seeing it lmao

"you can kill people with that, but personally i wouldn't have an issue with it if it was your thighs in question~" what a fucking flirt GET HIM OUT

if you'd challenge him to do the same he'd just give up after the first two tries... his legs aren't his best asset

he CAN crush a watermelon with his hair though. maybe you should be more careful the next time you try to wriggle out from its grip...

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fishermanshook · 6 months

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Bonjour Bonsoir

May I request headcanons for Andrew Kreiss where he has to protect the person he has feelings for in a match ? Like all fluffy and stuff !

Thanks !

Of course I can do that for you!

You first, Your Body Second. (grave keeper x gn!reader)

Roxman_ on Pinterest

I've been writing for idek how long now and I still f up grammar and spelling. Warning as always.

What is love? And what lengths would you go to protect the ones you do?

But you don't have to worry about that. Not when you've got the Gravekeeper to protect you from the dangers that present themselves in every match you play in.

He'll keep you safe, always and forever.

The Grave Keeper has only felt so much love in his life, which really only amounts to a couple specs of sand. He can't wrap his head around the concept of it all-let alone the feeling of it.

Out of all places to fall head over heels in, he had to in this hell hole? Nobody expects it, and it's surely a surprise to all who welcome the feeling.

Which is something that Andrew doesn't do at first. The poor boy doesn't think he is anywhere near deserving of all the love and attention you give him.

Andrew hasn't differentiated the difference between being generally kind to going out of your way to do something for someone who's developed a crush. He knows what he feels, but can't figure out if your trying to tell him you reciprocate these undying feelings.

He's new to love, having been void of it for almost all his life he's forced to take baby steps. But for you? It'll be worth it.

Your one and only game today is a regular match, thank gosh.

None the less, you find yourself chatting it up with the Grave Keeper. The others cannot fathom the fact that you seem to be the only one in the manor who could keep up a regular conversation with the man. But to the two of you, this is just another chat.

It was weird y'know, how quickly the two of you seemed to click. Out of all the Survivors, you find him the easiest to talk to. It's so easy to find tranquility in each other's presence that you lose track of time. (You and Andrew may or may not have accidentally been late to a couple matches because of this.)

The Grave Keeper has told you more about his life than he's told anyone else. You've excepted him for who he is, scars and all.

It's more than enough for the man to catch feelings.

He isn't entirely sure how to show it though, but maybe this match will be the perfect time to demonstrate it.

"Two ciphers left!" The Priestess shouts into her radio which allows the rest of the team to know to keep up the pace. She's stuck having to take over the kiting while she bides time for the Doctor to self heal herself, which shouldn't take long.

You're halfway through decoding your cipher before you hear the sound of teleporting, you're soon greeted with the sly smile that belongs to no one but "Fool's Gold". Seems the hunters changed targets.

"Shit," you mutter into the radio as you quickly throw down a pallet, almost risking a hit. "Hunter's here, continue decoding at all costs!"

For the rest of the decoding period, you weave your way through pallets and windows. Unfortunately, you take a hit which leaves blood pouring from your back and you in excruciatingly pain.

In the distance, you see a blurry figure with hair white as snow running towards you.

"Fuck, Andrew? Andre you've got to get out of here-"

Your voice is cut off by Andrew picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder.

"Wait are you seriously going to kite with me on your shoulder?"

"Of course not, I'd never risk you getting more hurt than you already are now. Just hold in there, I won't let you get hurt again, I promise." Andrew says as he makes a mad dash across the map. You soon see a glowing blue and black portal.

"Go now, I'll take over the kiting."

"Andrew no I can't let you do tha-" Your voice is silenced (again...) from Andrews lips on yours.

Does it catch you off guard? Yes. But you soon lean into the quick peck, rapping your arms around his neck.

"Mh, Darling I'd love to continue but I'd rather you be safe okay?" With another quick peck on the lips, the Grave Keeper helps you through the portal, which is quickly destroyed by "Fool's Gold's" pickaxe.

"I'll see you soon, my love."

The whole match seemed to have been an entire blur. Even while you got bandaged up and the entire team was able to get out you still can't comprehend what just happened moments earlier.

I guess that confirms my suspensions then... You say to yourself as you make your way back to your dorm room. Only to be stopped when you feel a strong hand grip your shoulder, turning you around.

"H-hey, um, how are you?" Andrew stutters and stumbles over his words, obviously worried about the move he pulled on you earlier.

"Hi Andrew. I'm doing more than okay, how are you feeling?" You ask him with a smile tugging on your lips as you rock back and forth on your heels.

"I'm d-doing okay, uh, so-" You cut off Andrew with a kiss to the lips. Honestly you've been waiting too long to do this.

He leans into the kiss, putting his hands on your hips and you rest your arms around his neck. The kiss is slow but passionate and secretly sends him over the edge with happiness.

He promised to protect you, and for the first time in your life, you know you can count on it.

note: No, I am not an Andrew fan. No, I do not know why I made this fic so long. Yes this does suck ass but you still read it so (THIS IS SO OOC IM SORRY) (This is so ass what the heck)

©️2023 fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

#⋆˚ 💗˖° HEAD OVER HEELS!#identity 5 #idv #idv andrew #idv grave keeper #identityv #fanfiction #fic #idv x reader #idv x you #identity v #begginer writer #2nd person pov #fanfic #grave keeper #grave keeper idv #andrew kreiss #identity v grave keeper

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idvlovers · 1 year

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Little Things of Love - Melly, Aesop, Luca, Antonio, and Andrew

Hi! I’m just doing this do indulge in my love of idv so, if anything is OOC, you can tell me but please don’t be rude haha. :)

Melly

Melly loves someone who loves her for who she is, not her beauty. Someone who loves her interest in entomology, even if they don’t understand.

Outside in the manor’s garden laid two lovers on a picnic blanket. A checkered blanket laying beneath them with small finger-sized sandwiches laying on small plates. A picnic basket laid beside the girl, whom was gushing about bees. The girl hadn’t been looking at her spouse during her ramble, just aimlessly looking ahead.

After a moment, the woman paused and focused on her spouse. Her spouse had already been staring at her, smiling, with a look of pure adoration and focus on their face. Melly herself knew that they didn’t know all that much about entomology yet they still listened to her ramble. Although you could not see her eyes, you could see Melly’s mouth curl into a small, warm, smile. Melly lightly grabbed your hand and kissed your cheek, “Thank you,” Melly whispered.

Confused, your eyebrows crinkled, “hm?”

“For listening.” Melly smiled while covering you in kisses. Her red lipstick left imprints all along your face while you sat there, stunned.

Aesop

Someone who’s a talker, who can carry the conversation. Someone who is fine with his aloof attitude and accepts him for who he is (and, his weird obsession with death).

Aesop’s room who in the past was quiet. You could hear a pen drop and could here the footsteps of whomever walking the corridor. Yet, that silence is now rare. Usually, a voice could be heard from the door. It’s be gushing and rambling about whatever came to mind.

You’d think that the owner, Aesop Carl, would be annoying at the newfound loudness in his room. Yet, that was not the case. He’d listen adamantly about whatever topic was on your mind. His eyes would soften, looking at your happy face. Aesop wouldn’t just stare out in space while talking to you, how could he! Aesop, to show you how much he’s listening, sometimes makes an occasional comment or question on whatever topic being discussed.

“So,” the grey haired man said looking at you, “it started all because some guy found.. a notebook that could kill whomever he wanted?”

“Well, yeah.” When he said it like that, it makes your 20 min explanation utterly useless. But, whatever. He listens and, truly, that’s all that matters. You smile at the man, lightly grasping his hand, “I love you, Aesop.”

Luca

Your mere presence means a lot to Luca. Whether you’re drawing, writing, sleeping, or watching something, as long as your with him, he’s satisfied.

As an inventor at heart, Luca spent many days working on numerous inventions. Unfortunately, due to his fixation on them, he’ll spend hours just working. Which causes his health to deteriorate over time. Of course, there’s someone who always makes sure he’s healthy. Though, Luca would never let you stay up with him while working on his inventions. No matter how much you persist, he’ll never approve of your health deteriorating over time because of him. After all, he can’t loose you too.

Luca leaned back in his chair, it was late at night, he finally finished his latest invention. It was a gadget for, his beloved, you. Something that’d help you throughout the hellish matches survivors were forced to endure. A smile was fastened on Luca’s face and was ready to present the gadget to you. But, when he got up and turned around, you were asleep. A small chuckle escaped Luca’s mouth. Silently, Luca put the gadget on the beside table closer to you and layed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, smiling, and pulled you closer to him. His arms tightened around you, as if he were afraid that you’d disappear in the night. Yet, he knew you would never go. Luca kissed the top of your forehead, before drifting off to sleep himself.

Antonio:

A free spirit is what he thinks of you. Untainted of the world of aristocrats and untainted of their obsession. A joy to be around, whether you see our or not, is what he thinks whenever with you.

Perhaps, he did not deserve you. He watched you with other survivors, during his friendly match with Michiko (As, it was much easier to convince her to be friendly compared to the other hunters). You laugh while joking alongside Emma and Norton, Norton had likely said something funny. He watched as Michiko joyously danced with all the survivors. A silent tint of jealousy was evident. To be looked upon fondly without obsession and to be liked for who you are. It’s something that Antonio knew you thought of him as, but not the vast majority.

Yet, as he watched you run over to him and clasp his hand, he’s filled with everlasting joy. Antonio silently played the piano, with you beside him, but occasionally you could the man chuckle over his violin. If he knew you all those years ago, before he made the contract with that demon, Antonio one and only desire would be that you both would never part. Yet, he knew it would happen eventually. He’d watch as you’d age and he’d watch you die. Nevertheless, it didn’t matter in the moment. In the moment, he was happy. And, truly, that’s all that mattered to him.

Andrew:

A place of solace and happiness is how he feels, whenever with you.

Used to the solace of being alone, it was a surprise that he now found solace in you. At first, he was worried. After the death of his mother, he wasn’t used to human interaction. However, over time, it became better.

It was silent in your room. Andrew was laying on your bed, waiting for you to come back from your match. Little trinkets were sprinkled around your room some sat their intended places, some of the floor, and some scattered all around your room. Andrew picked up one of them, holding it in his fingers. A smile reached the man’s face as he remembered you. It was a trinket you use a lot but, for some reason, you didn’t wear it today.

—

Andrew’s story is lowkey ass but sorry haha. Thanks for reading :)

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zellesmusicbox · 1 year

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can i rq dating hcs with the grave keeper ????? thank u !!!!

Ofc ! Andrew is rlly cute imo so lessgo !

⏳ ~

You can definitely bring him out of his comfort zone. Around you, he feels much more open to other people.

He will leave you flowers everywhere! In fact, in matches, he'll sneak towards you underground, and leave some near you before hurrying off.

Like I said, you make him more comfortable around around people , so he doesn't mind displaying affection in public. (hand holding, leaning against one another, etc.)

In terms of cuddling, he prefers to be the bigger spoon. He just loves to watch you, (not in a weird way plz..) he truly thinks you're pretty!

I mentioned that he thinks you're pretty, and boy does he let you know. Just about every day he tells you! It's very cheesey. He'll rest his head on his hand looking at you, admiring you while he tells you you're beautiful.

⏳ ~

That is all for now! Tysm for requesting this :)

#identity v #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv x reader #idv x you #idv grave keeper #idv andrew #andrew kreiss #andrew kreiss x reader #grave keeper x reader

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awfcspencer · 3 months

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hi! I read all your fics and they're amazing! is it okay if I ask for one with either alessia or leah, where they're dating a baddie!r and they're out with the team celebrating. and r noticed that leah or alessia, keeps getting hit on by another woman and r establish that they're taken but they're not taking no for an answer. so, r gets into a fight, basically being possessive and jealous. you don't have to write this if you don't want to, thank you!😊

Anything But Casual || alessia russo x reader

alessia russo x reader

prompt: requested!

warnings: little bit of jealousy, little bit of possessiveness, alcohol

a/n: thank you! hope this is what you were looking for! I didn’t necessarily make it a fight but definitely most of the request! also slightly on the shorter side since ive been slammed with homework and work recently, but i wanted to get something out! enjoy!

A win at a nearly sold-out Emirates in the London Derby was surely enough reason to go out and celebrate, especially when your girlfriend had put two in the back of the net passed the keeper. On the high of the win, Alessia gladly accepted the invitation to go out, and you were happy to go alongside, needing a nice night out.

You and Alessia, hand in hand, along with the rest of the Arsenal girls filter into the rumbunctious bar. Some more than others making long direct strides toward the bartender, I mean tonight was definitely a celebration. Katie somehow already managed to get a line of shots ready, yelling at everyone to come join.

The drinks were flowing as dancing ensued. Leah and Beth had located the karaoke machine and now were taking turns singing their hearts out to different ABBA songs. You and Alessia were sat at a high-top table casually chatting with Lotte and Vic.

“Want another drink?” she asked as she looked down at both of your almost empty glasses.

“Yeah sure, thank you love.” Giving you a quick peck before she made her way to the bartender.

If there was one thing you knew about Alessia in the time she had been your girlfriend, it was that she is an absolute sucker for physical touch. She loved turning and playing with the rings on your fingers, or when she would drive, her hand had to be on your thigh, and at night, she would wiggle herself as close to your body as she could and wrap her strong arms around you. Ultimately, she always needed to be touching you, not like you really minded though. Her touch always helped calm you down.

Moving to now converse with the other two girls at the table, you had asked Lotte and Vic about their plans for the upcoming break in the WSL schedule.

Trying to pay attention to the speaking defender, you notice out of the corner of your eye that a woman has approached Alessia at the bar. She was roughly a few inches taller than you and was laughing a little too hard at your girlfriend's words. Every so often, her hand would lightly graze Alessia’s bicep as she laughed.

You could feel jealousy begin to bubble inside you. Lotte had followed your dark eyes and noticed what your angered scowl had stemmed from. She placed her hand on yours to help calm you down. Knowing you well enough to know that you might, definitely do, have a slight, major, possessiveness over the blonde.

You knew deep down that Alessia would never pursue another woman when she had you.

She always made sure to tell you that she only had eyes for you after your first jealousy ‘incident’ where you thought the server on one of your first dates was hitting on your girlfriend. You will go to the grave fighting that she was absolutely flirting. But that was the thing about Alessia, she couldn’t read a room if the walls had words written on them. You found this out after you basically had to tell the blonde that you were madly in love with her to get the hint. She simply couldn’t tell the difference between flirting and friendship.

Along with her inability to read social cues, Alessia was simply too kind, she wouldn’t even hurt an ant. She was like a golden retriever, nice, cuddly, and bubbly. She tried her best to not be rude to the woman who approached her asking her name and if she came here often. Every chance she got to put distance between herself and the woman, the woman would close the gap instantly. But still, she continued the conversation, patiently waiting for a chance to make a swift exit.

The conversation between the pair had lasted far longer than you liked so you decided to make your way over, completely against Lotte’s advice to chill out first.

“Less baby what’s taking so long?” Emphasizing the ‘baby’ as you step between the two women and Alessia intertwines her fingers with yours, placing her hand on your lower back as you spoke. Alessia didn’t notice the way the woman had rolled her eyes when you approached but you certainly did. Alessia’s touch did not go unnoticed by the woman and it helped settle your jealousy a little, subtlety letting the woman know Alessia was taken. The woman unable to move closer to your girlfriend which made you ecstatic inside.

“Oh, we were just having a quick chat! She asked me if I came here often and I was explaining my recent move to London, and how I have only been here a few times.” Alessia rambles out, a large grin on her face as she spoke.

You wanted to utter a sarcastic comment to your girlfriend about the woman, but you knew Alessia was simply just too kind, and a chatterbox apparently too. The poor girl could not see that the woman was obviously not interested in her backstory, but rather more interested in taking Alessia home. The way the woman was looking at Alessia made you sick, a look as if she was a piece of meat, big eyes that scanned Alessia’s body up and down as if she were cattle at an auction. It lighted a fire inside you.

“Well, Less we need to get back to our table.” Grabbing the two cocktails and pulling the blonde back to the table.

"She was nice," Alessia said, thinking maybe she had made a new friend in London.

“Yeah real nice Less, very friendly.” The sarcastic comment left your mouth and a nice eye roll following the statement.

Alessia let the comment roll off her shoulders, knowing your jealousy spell at times. Sitting back down and talking to her teammates. She noticed the way you inched towards her body every chance you got, needing to be close to her. Your arm strung over the striker’s shoulders, letting the whole bar know she was yours. Putting together the pieces that you were jealous of the woman she had met, but she wasn’t really sure why. The woman was nothing but friendly towards here, or at least that is what she thought.

The dance floor was now full of Arsenal girls as you pulled Alessia away to dance with your girl. The beat of the music and the alcohol flowing through your body as you and Alessia danced to every song. Swinging your hips along and twirling Alessia around. It was fun, a way to let go and just relax. A slower love song radiated through the speakers as you and Alessia move to face each other, head to head, arms thrown around the taller girls hips. You both in your own little world.

A light tap on your shoulder took you out of your trance.

It was the same woman from earlier.

“Mind if I step in for a dance?”

The question lit an anger in you that you couldn’t control. A fire ablaze in your stomach, shoulders tensing immediately.

“What? Yes of course I mind. You’re not dancing with my girlfriend. Are you crazy?” You blurt out to the woman. Jealousy coursing through your body. How could this woman be so daft you thought.

“It is just once dance.” the woman replied as if it was casual. But you remember how she looked at Alessia just a mere hour ago. A look of anything but casual.

A loud huff left your mouth. “No. No way.” Pulling Alessia away to find a different section of the crowded dance floor. Alessia stayed silent until she was alone with you.

“I am yours. Please know that. No one else is you.” Alessia softly whispered in your ear, holding you tightly as the both of you danced. Alessia knew that you were extremely possessive of her, and while she thought it was sometimes annoying, she also found it somewhat heartwarming.

The night was getting late and the bar was emptying out. You and Alessia decided to leave as Alessia would go grab the car and you would cash your tab out.

As you walked outside, you saw the same damn woman hunched over the passenger side window talking to Alessia. God this woman could not take a hint. You did make a note that Alessia was dead silent, not replying as the woman made every effort to talk to her. Now Alessia could begin to see the woman was far more interested in just friendship. But still she remained nice, she was always nice.

“Please back away from my girlfriend’s car.” you wanted to absolutely scream out but rather said it as calmly as you could.

“I’m just having a chat mate, nothing wrong with a chat is there?” she replied, a light tone of annoyance as she had been eyeing the blonde striker all night.

“Oh nothing wrong with a chat, but not when you been nearly eye-fucking her all night. Now back up.” Desperately trying to bottle your anger and jealousy, not wanting it to overflow. Moving to try to open the passenger side door to get in and leave the bar immediately.

The woman made a loud scoff as she finally leaves the car window and you are now able to get in.

Alessia puts the car in drive as she drives off. It was silent in the car for a few, your mind wandering through the angered emotions flowing through your body. Reminding yourself that Alessia was yours, you were going home with Alessia, your girlfriend.

“It will always be you love. No one else. Ever” she finally spoke, reaching over to place her hand on your upper thigh.

“No one else.” you replied as you place your hand on top of hers. She was yours, always.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #woso couples #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo

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rafesfavgirl · 2 days

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two graves, one gun — r. cameron

sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')

❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl

the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.

8:30 p.m.

your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.

pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.

straight to voicemail. fuck.

you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.

you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.

"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.

you: where are you???

when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.

you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.

"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.

"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"

"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.

"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."

he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."

"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"

barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"

"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"

you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.

"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"

"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.

"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."

thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."

"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"

you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"

"rafe-"

"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"

"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"

"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"

"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"

he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.

"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."

—

the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.

"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.

you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."

"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"

"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"

"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"

you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."

rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.

"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."

"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."

"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.

"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."

not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"

"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."

letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"

"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.

"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."

"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.

"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."

the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"what?"

"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."

tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."

"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.

"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.

"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."

"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"

"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."

you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”

rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.

"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."

his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.

part 2 coming soon!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 7 months

Note

I don't know if you ever received this ask or had this idea before but here goes nothing Since Ghost already met Jade's family, what if she meets his? ....angst material. Sorry not sorry.

Oh my God... Anon... You sparked something in me, and I cannot go to sleep now without posting this. Thank you so much for the idea.

(I think I'm gonna make a full on comic out of this, and I will make an art at some point for this fic, but let's use this lovely GIF of Ghost first)

She's The One

Jade meets Ghost's family.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 1.8k words Warning : Medium to heavy angst and mentions of death, but ends with a full on fluff because you know me mate I want Ghost to be happy ok.

Title and story inspired by the song 'She's The One' by Robbie Williams

"...How's your family, Simon?"

Jade asked Ghost. They had been having a small outing, which included watching the cinema together and going around the streetside shops to find new wardrobes for Ghost to wear. He initially thought that it was unnecessary, but as Jade insisted, he went anyway – as long as he could spend his off-duty time with her.

He'd met her parents, and though he was apprehensive about it at first, they turned out to be pleasant and strong people. It was such an unfamiliar feeling for him, to have a family to come home to, a supportive family and kind and can take care of their own. He's foreign to that concept.

Ghost just stayed silent to her question, his expression which was usually unreadable turned sorrowful, his eyes gazing down at the pavements they walked. She thought she should change the subject before Ghost muttered,

"You want to see them now?"

Jade opened her eyes wide in surprise, not expecting him to say anything about meeting his family this fast, and the way he said 'now'...

The woman knew Ghost wouldn't ask her that question if he was adamant as he was a straightforward person. And so, she answered, "Of course, if you don't mind it." He then proceeded to enter his car that was parked not far from where they just watched a movie in a cinema, not forgetting to open the passenger door for Jade beforehand.

They drove for a full 30 minutes of silence, save for the sound soft songs on the radio. As Ghost drove, Jade looked out the window and understood that they were going to a familiar place that she had passed by a few times in her life. He drove to the nearest available parking area, parking his car flawlessly before stopping the car engine, leaving the both of them in complete silence.

Jade felt the atmosphere around him grow heavy, his hands still on the steering wheel as if he was still pondering whether or not he wanted to get out of the car. He let out a soft sigh, took his keys and got out of the car. Jade got out of her own and looked at the surrounding area.

Cemetery.

The sun had disappeared behind the heavy grey clouds that constantly covered the England skies. Tiny drops of water had touched her cheek, in such a way it reflected Ghost's inner thoughts right now.

The man looked at her, "Over here." He walked with Jade following right behind him. After about 10 minutes of walking and treading through the tall grasses, Ghost stopped in front of a group of gravestones, four of them, which were placed more tightly together than the other. The grasses were tidily short, a sign that the keepers attended to these graves properly.

Jade then looked down, reading the engravings on the stones, and her heart shattered to pieces.

"Susan Riley, November 17th, 1965 - December 24th, 2017"

"Thomas Riley, July 21st, 1990 - December 24th, 2017"

"Elizabeth Riley, May 8th, 1991 - December 24th, 2017"

"Joseph Riley, March 19th, 2013 - December 24th, 2017"

It was his mother's birthday.

She looked up to find Ghost's eyes gazing down at the names as well, noticing that the ground he was standing on was right at the front of his mother's grave. No tears in sight, only sadness, and as an MI6 agent of two decades, she could deduce an expression of regret. Jade didn't need to wonder why, as the dates of their deaths were all the same - the reason he hid his identity, lived as no one, avoided any relationship with anyone, and the reason why he was adamant about meeting her parents – His past came to haunt, and it's target was not him.

Jade couldn't say anything. What could she say? That she's sorry this happened? She knew Ghost hated that phrase the most, of someone pitying him, that they wished things could be different. But what use is it to wish? It happened. His entire family died because something happened during one of his missions, and his family paid the price for it.

As if on cue, she heard a small sniff from him the same second the raindrops started to grow more frequent, falling harder, creating white noises and wet spots on their clothes. Being the Londoner she was, knowing that sunny days were never really sunny, Jade fished out her floral purple umbrella, holding it above Ghost's head beside her, making sure to cover his broad shoulders fully as her left shoulder grew wet.

She saw his face, and it was enough reason to stay silent and let him grieve. She didn't know if this was the first time he'd visited their graves after years or if he always come here at some time every year, but no matter which one the answer was, if she could see one thing, it was that his tears never seemed to run out after more than a decade.

Jade let him cry, the sound of his sobs completely drowned by the white noises of the heavy rain.

She knew that he wasn't much for any physical touch, nonetheless, she lifted her other hand softly and rubbed at his back, going up and down in an attempt to soothe his sorrow. And after a minute of him not flinching away from her touch, Jade mustered up her will to slowly encircle her arm around his own on his side, their sides touching as she rubbed his bicep, and going even further as she leaned her head to touch his shoulder.

Ghost's shoulder still shook for a few minutes as he cried his heart out, Jade kept doing what she did as he let his sorrow out.

Soon after, another surprise hit her when she heard and saw that the rain started to slow down, albeit still going down on both of them. Her other arm started to grow sore after moments of holding the umbrella high to accommodate his height, yet what alleviated the pain was the fact that she felt a small weight on her head, realizing that Ghost had eased his cries, now only soft sniffs, and that he leaned his head on top of hers as well.

He still stayed silent, not a word spoken ever since they arrived, but she knew that this was a good sign that he knew that she would be there for him, even when he was vulnerable.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley."

Jade muttered softly, the man beside her still looking down on his mother's grave even though he was slightly dazed at her words.

"This is our first meeting, but I can tell that you were a kind person, and an even more amazing mother and grandmother."

He then glanced at Jade as she continued, "Your son is a very skilled and intelligent man, traits which I assume he got from you. He's confident, a great leader-- oh! And he's handsome as well, so that's a plus."

That prompted a scoff out of his mouth. Nevertheless, she went on. "He's not much of a social person. He's a little bit intense and stiff - We can work on that. He shot my hand once! I have the scar to prove it. His choices of words are sometimes foul, though, again, we could always work on that." Jade joked lightheartedly, seeing him softly smile above her.

"But if there's one thing about him that I love, is that he's a strong man with a warm heart, and I don't have to assume to know that he got it from you." Jade continued. "Your son is the strongest man I know, and I will stop at nothing to protect him and make him happy."

Ghost looked down at her, astounded at her words. "Thank you for bringing him into this world. Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley."

As she finished her message, Jade looked up with a soft smile, "I'll be sure to bring some flowers the next time we visit, and every year after that."

She thought he was going to say something, until the arm that was intertwined with hers moved, though nervously, gliding across her back and found its home on Jade's shoulder, before lightly pressing and pulling her towards him. Jade blushed, not only at the warmth of his body but also at the fact that he initiated the touch.

"Thank you, Lottie." He muttered in his deep voice, "So much."

"Anytime, Love."

After about 15 minutes of standing in front of the graves, the rain had stopped, and the sun showed up to light the rest of the day as the sky turned orange. Jade had stored the wet umbrella back in its container and hung it on her wrist before she walked back to the car per his request. Jade figured he wanted some alone time with his family, and so she obliged.

"How's she, Mum? She's a beautiful bird, isn't she?"

Ghost finally spoke, his hands tucked inside his pockets. He then glanced at his brother's grave, smirking. "What about you, Tommy? You think she's the one?" He asked no one, not expecting any answer anyway, yet he just wanted to let it out.

"I thought I'm gonna bite the dust on some fucking rathole somewhere, and that was what I wished at some point, but..." Ghost sighed, shifting his weight on his hip, "I kind of want to die an old man, after living my life to the fullest with her-- Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this." Ghost chuckled at his own words, not expecting it to be this heartfelt. "I'm arse over tit for her. Yeah, you're gonna laugh at me for this Tommy, but at least I didn't laugh when you said the same thing about Beth."

"And Mum, knowing you, I think you'd like her. She's a bit like you, in a way." Ghost confessed, still eyeing her name on her gravestone, "She cares too much. In a good way, and I find it endearing." He suddenly recalled the memories he had with Jade, from the first moment they met to this moment, replaying them over and over and being surprised about how much she reminded him of his mother.

"I want to protect her with all my life. I love her, Mum."

And with that, a burden on his shoulders felt like no more. He'd never said those words to anyone, and he might be insane to be in love with someone considering how he'd lived his life, but he'd made a promise to protect her, and if he'd be a fool, then a fool he would become.

"Anyway, she's waiting back there, and I'm hungry. So I'm going to leave you now." Ghost then stood up straight, his hands still in his pockets. He glanced at every single one of the gravestones, before looking at his mother's.

"Happy birthday, Mum."

-----

(All of the Riley's birthdays are entirely made-up. Their date of death was also made up, but I remembered there were something with Christmas, so I'll just place December 24th to make my heart hurt more) ಥ_ಥ

Anyway, thank you for reading, and hope you love this! (❁´◡`❁)

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #sleepy answers #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #charlotte jade le jardin #call of duty oc #ghost x oc #ghost x jade #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley #call of duty fic #call of duty mw2 #angst #tw angst #tw death

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 2 months

Text

Take me.

Note: a tiny little story to help with the drought😮‍💨

Warnings: 18+! fluff/smut.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you and Sihtric were reunited after a battle.

wordcount: 653

Masterlist

Sihtric's mismatched eyes were glazed over. His lips curled into a dazed smile while his rough, warm hands wandered your bare skin as you laid underneath him. His body weight pleasantly pressed onto you as he was positioned between your thighs. His hair was dishevelled, after your fingers had tugged his braids when you felt the warmth of his lips onto yours, kissing you intensely and deeply until he had you undressed and picked up in his arms, carrying you to the bed.

The warrior had missed you, his wife, immensely when he had been away to fight what would be unbeknownst to you both his last battle, for peace was within close range. As soon as he had returned home on horseback and his eyes had landed on you in the cheering crowd, he dismounted and allowed you to leap into his arms. You had buried your face in his neck and your fingers curled around his leather armour. Sihtric; your husband, your sanctuary and the keeper of your heart had returned to you without any grave injuries, and no more time was wasted. No words were spoken for your eyes told each other everything one needed to know, and your lips immediately locked into a fiery kiss, pouring out the happiness and relief of being reunited again.

And now Sihtric gazed down into your eyes as he was on top of you, unclothed and scarcely covered by the warm furs. His hot, ragged breath feelable on your face while his tattooed fingers tenderly brushed over your warm cheeks. He then leaned in and kissed softly underneath your ear, his tongue stroking your skin in between teasing kisses and kittenish nibbles, dragging his lips down to your pulse point. Your breath hitched when he sank his teeth delicately in your neck, marking you with his endless love while he teased your folds with his arousal, readying you to take him after being separated for far too long.

His growls sounded low and heavy in your ear, making you tremble with anticipation and desperate to feel him inside you and to be as close as you can possibly be, never wanting to let him leave you ever again. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, inhaling his earthly scent as he lifted your leg and hooked it around his waist.

'I missed you,' he breathed in your ear and bit the soft skin.

'And I missed you,' you murmured against his shoulder, 'I love you.'

'I love you more,' Sihtric whispered, to which you softly protested.

He chuckled in your ear, and you gasped when he abruptly sheathed inside you and kept still, wanting to feel your walls clench around him. You mewled, desperately, begging him to move. But Sihtric took pleasure in hearing you beg for him and he wanted to hear more before he would give you what you wanted.

'Please, Sihtric,' you rasped, 'give me more.'

'More?' he laughed quietly, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke while he moved with slow, deep strokes, 'you want more?' he murmured.

'Please,' you begged and clawed his muscular back.

'Please,' Sihtric mocked, lovingly, 'you're so sweet when you beg for me,' he whispered and pushed hard inside you.

He stilled inside you again and hummed softly, watching you with a satisfied grin as you almost cried out for him.

'So beautiful,' Sihtric whispered, smiling, and he pecked your lips, 'so desperate for me,' he kissed your lips again, then grabbed your chin and his eyes darkened, 'I will give you more, my love,' his voice soft and playfully threatening, 'but I don't want to hear you whine that it's too much. I know you can handle me,' he murmured against your lips and chuckled again, 'mhm, and you will take me all the way, like the good and devoted wife that you are for me.'

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#i had a shitty day and a weird mental week #i am going to rearrange my furniture now before i go insane #this may be the only fic i'll post until next week #i'm really struggling atm no matter how badly i want to write.. it's just not working out #surprised i managed to get this written tbh #anyway #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric #sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #idk what the planets are doing rn but can they stop making me feel awful and hating everything i write #and can my adhd demon stop lurking bc i am exhausted. it's that time were even my meds are not working well enough at moments #maybe i need a break #maybe i need a good [censored]#who knows #just make it stop i beg 🥲#and also those posts that are going around again about reblogs vs likes???#yeah that's a real mood #part of my struggle atm is hugely influenced by the lack of interaction lately and i hate that it affects me #i just really feel like my writing is shit lately and am constantly comparing it to others #not to be a cry baby lmao i'm just *deep sigh* feel like i'm losing it?????

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darlingshane · 1 year

Text

Violent Desires

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank doesn't like being called 'daddy' but you do it anyway to rile him up and have him punish you.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Spanking, Light bondage, Mild Daddy Kink, Brat!Reader, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is loosely inspired by some events at the beginning of The Punisher’s season 2.

— You can read below or at AO3.

Spending the summer in a grimy motel with no AC in bumfuck nowhere with an asshole you met only a few weeks ago isn't exactly a dream vacation. But trouble always has led you to the strangest of places. And considering that you might be dead if you hadn't met Frank Castle that night, you can't really complain about your current status. You got yourself here, and you should be thankful for still having all your limbs and head attached to your body.

Still, it doesn’t make it easy to show gratitude to a prickling jerk with a fucking savior complex, when all he does is boss you and hustle you around however he desires.

You can’t help but wonder what’s in this for him. At first, you believed he just wanted a piece of ass, like every other bastard you’ve met, but no, Frank is not about that. At least he hasn’t shown any interest in you in that way.

This isn’t about money for him, either. You’ve offered, and he’s declined any of your offers.

Perhaps, it’s all about doing the right thing – being a hero, whatever that means. But you’re not a saint, or a damsel in distress, and he knows that. Messing with the wrong people by holding onto something that Greenway wanted, and never got, thanks to your unyielding knight in shining armor, is what got you into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, you figure out why and realize that this arrangement has nothing to do with you or being noble in the slightless.

It’s about the fight.

He lives for it. Welcomes it. Seeks it. Needs it like oxygen.

Violence fuels him to keep going. It courses through his veins, thicker than his own blood.

Every day, it becomes more obvious you’re merely a means to an end in the hands of The punisher. You figured who he was too when you found an old newspaper piece with his face taped on the back of an old van’s window, when you stopped for gas once.

Frank or Pete. Neither name means anything to you.

His life is a tragedy, there's no denying that. But that doesn't give him a pass to be that inconsiderate towards you.

You’re a stranger to him. He doesn’t owe you shit, and vice versa. But when he saw you in trouble, unlike the rest of the world, he didn't hesitate for a second to risk his own life by getting between you and the men that were chasing after you.

After getting out of that roadhouse, he drove you from town to town for the most part of the last month, killing any dumbass that dared to track you down, until they stopped following you.

Living closely together with him is no picnic. He watches you like a hawk, always alert, and acts as more of a captor rather than a protector sometimes.

At this point, you're not sure what comes next. Is he going to be your keeper forever? Cause you’re getting tired of this situation and you just wanna go back to your life, or whatever is left. The truth is, Greenway killed everyone you knew, so you don’t have much to return to. Maybe sticking by Frank’s side is the best option for you right now.

Warranted or not, this isn’t over yet. He took down some of Greenway’s most dangerous men, and more are on the way. You’re both sure that the big boss is still looking for the woman, you, who has the key to bring him down. It consists of a pesky pen drive that if were to fall into the right hands, it'd mean the end to his crime ring. That's the only insurance that’s keeping you from pushing daisies in an unmarked grave somewhere.

That and Frank.

It’s been a couple of weeks since you were last tracked to that motel in Wyoming. The mileage of Frank’s van has collected thousands of miles since, and tonight you’re up for an adventure. So, you sneak out past your guard the first chance you get to explore the new town. Temperatures are painfully hot, and you just take shelter in a bar with a good air conditioner. You play pool, have a drink or two, and dance with newfound friends for a couple of hours past Frank’s dinner time.

“Where the hell were you?” his voice grumbles, one hand reaching to pull the beaded string from the old-as-fuck lamp on the night table between the twin beds when you step into the room.

It’s past midnight, you said earlier you were going to get some snacks from the bending machine and that’s when you decided to go on a walk around town instead. Because you’re not a goddamn child, or a helpless girl who can’t keep herself safe. He acts like you're both. You’re neither.

You simply shrug indifferently at his question, toeing off your slip-on shoes by the foot of the bed.

“You got anything to say, huh?” he mutters, rising from his bed to tower over you.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” you turn your back to him, and start shedding clothes off.

“The fuck did you just say?” he snarls oh so gravely. Tone laced in anger. You can feel the rough texture of his voice on the surface of your back when you pull your shirt over your head.

“Said I was sorry, daddy,” you pout, slipping out of your pants and kneeling on your bed, stripped to your underwear.

“Are you drunk?”

“Just a lil buzzed, daddy.”

“Stop calling me that. For fuck's sake! What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Isn't that what you are, though? You act like it. You sound like it. Always telling me what to do, what to eat, where to go… If you don't want me to call you that, then stop trying to control me.”

“You'd be dead in a ditch somewhere if I hadn’t done all that. Hate me all you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know that’s true.”

“So you keep saying, Oh Almighty Savior, but I was doing fine until I met you,” you stick out your pointer finger and poke his chest twice with malice.

“I doubt that,” he shoves your hand away. “And we still gotta find what kind of shit you bring to our door after your impromptu outing tonight.”

“Relax, if the punisher couldn't track me down, neither could they.”

“You better be right. Christ! You’re such a goddamn brat. You say you wanna stop running, but you’re being utterly careless,” he starts pacing the short length of the room, peeking out the window here and there.

“Why are you always so angry?” your lips turn into a half grin, as you shift on the bed, getting on all fours, showing your ass in his direction as he walks past your bed. “You wanna come take it out on me, daddy? I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

“So help me, God! Call me that one more time…” stopping in his tracks just for a beat, his teeth grit together, as the muscles of his jaw get all worked up.

“And what? What are you gonna do, daddy? Tape my mouth and handcuff me to the radiator again? You wanna know what I did tonight? C’mere and make me tell you.”

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you tonight, you’re not even that drunk. But you find it quite entertaining to rile him up like that.

For a moment, he stares at you like he wanted to rip you apart, like all those men you’ve seen perish in The Punisher’s wake.

You want him too.

You need him too.

Frank just stares and swallows anxiously, unable to decide what to do with you and your erratic behavior.

“Stop being a pussy and show me what the big bad punisher can do,” you keep provoking him, wiggling your ass in the air. “I know you’ve been sitting there all night, just itching like crazy to beat the hell out of someone. Or fuck someone’s brains out. I guess it’s just the same feeling.”

“Keep running your fucking mouth like that. See how far that gets you.”

You press your teeth on your bottom lip, glance at him over your shoulder before spelling the magic word, “do you wanna use my mouth, daddy?”

There's no doubt you're in big trouble when he abandons his pacing, and closes the window’s blinds in one harsh motion before standing behind you with such an imposing dark shadow it makes the hairs on your skin rise.

Silence takes over for three seconds and without a warning, that silence is broken by the sound of your panties being torn apart effortlessly with his fingers. It makes you ache in a whole different way when you look over your shoulder again to see his nose flaring and his eyes falling into the depths of lust as his fist clutches to your now-ruined underwear.

“Don't fucking look at me like that,” he mutters, lip curling into a snarl. And before you can say anything, he reaches with his free hand to hold your jaw while he shoves the shredded panties into your mouth. “You call me Frank or Sir, but I don't wanna hear you say that word again. Got that? Nod if you understand.”

The brat in you wants to say – yes, daddy – but you do as you're told. Dip your chin, and keep your head low.

His large warm palms roam the sides of your hips now. Gripping firmly to your skin as if he wanted to dig his fingertips past the delicate surface of your body to get his hands covered in your blood, and taste it; drown himself in it. That’s exactly how it feels.

It’s nothing but desperate. All this time without a companion has turned it into something he never was, at least not in bed. A bloodlust creature he’d sworn once he would never become. But you’re a different kind of breed, one that can take him places he’s never dared to visit, he recognizes. And right now all he wants to do is satisfy the monster sharpening its teeth under his skin, and feed him with your desire.

With one hand anchored to your hip, he sends the other to undo his belt. You hear the familiar unbuckling sound and the rustling of the fabric as he slides the fine leather off the jeans’ loops.

For a second, you think he’s going to strike you with it, but no. He instead slides the leather around your neck.

“Stay still,” it falls under a heavy breath between his lips.

A pitched sound echoes in your throat as he buckles it tight around your neck. It doesn't have a notch to hold on to up that high, so Frank curls the end around his fist to keep the leather snug around your neck.

“What? Isn’t this what you wanted, little brat?” he tugs on it a little.

The pace of your heart picks up, but you nod again in your makeshift leash. You trust him, nonetheless. He wouldn’t have gotten you this far if he was going to kill you.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumble around the fabric of your underwear.

Then, you feel the deft fingers of his opposite hand, gliding from your ass and up your back to unclasp your bra. He lets you slip one arm at a time or off the straps as he presses his bulge against your ass. It stirs at burning arousal in your core. Your walls soften and flutter deliciously in anticipation.

Enjoying himself, he presses his hips a little harder, making sure you can feel the hard outline of his cock swelling behind the denim fabric. It's substantially bigger than you thought. It's daunting and exciting to think about him defiling your pussy with it.

“Let's see what you're made of,” he tentatively moves one hand between your legs, shoving his twitchy finger in your folds to collect your slickness. “Christ, you're so fucking wet.”

In his power play, as he rubs circles around your clit, every time your face dips lower, he pulls the belt to keep your head straight up, facing the ugly headboard of the uncomfortable bed. You can only imagine what people do in places like this, and how many dirty secrets this bed and these four walls have seen. They're about to witness another when Frank releases the end of the belt, letting the leather lose its constriction around your neck.

You let out a shaky breath through your nose as he takes his other hand away from your sex. A second after, both his palms land on your chest and feast on your tits. He fills his eager hands, squeezing as hard as they did on your ass to mark his digits on them. Claiming them as if they existed only for his enjoyment.

Working himself up, he lets out a grunt, and pinches your nipples with vehemence just to hear you squeal again.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he soothes his palms softer on your puckered peaks and frees them at once to finally undo his fly and release his erection.

Frank glances down, spits on his palm, and spreads his saliva around the blunt tip of his cock before guiding himself into your pussy. You're already drenched, but your entrance welcomes the extra lubrication as he slowly sheathes himself inside you.

Your eyes flutter shut, feeling the breadth of his swelling stretching your opening in that first stroke.

“God, you’re so tight,” Frank's lips part as a shy, beautiful moan slides past his teeth at the fine pressure of your slicked walls. He pulls himself out fully, and repeats that motion again to capture how your entrance grips around his length when he breaches you.

Abandoning himself to the depths of your walls, his thrusts are nothing but experimental for a few strokes before unleashing the violent desires of his inner monster to let his hips slam against your ass at full force.

Claiming every inch of you, he keeps your body in submission with his hands clutching the curves of your ass, and you gladly surrender to his whims. His fingers sink in new places, stamping their prints and half moons when his nails press harder on your skin.

The room oozes of sweat and sex and the lewd sounds that come from his body colliding against yours over and over, and the creaking of the bed.

Yours fists ball the flowery bedspread for a long time before sending one of your hands between your legs to care for your clit.

“Did I say that you could touch yourself?” he spanks your ass twice to put a stop to your hand.

“Please… I need it,” you articulate with difficulty.

“Stop whining, and fucking take it,” his palm smacks your rear once more, harder.

Ignoring your pleading, the punishing rhythm of his cock, crawling up to the hilt, becomes more desperate as it brings you closer to ecstasy; thrust after thrust. Your body shudders in delight, and every time you cry out his name, curl your hips against his moves, or beg, you're gifted with a new smack.

As you reach the tipping point, his force turns sharper, meaner. It's at that moment that all your muscles seize up, and everything becomes blurry before letting the orgasm take over your body. You groan and pull yourself away from Frank's reach to lay face down on the mattress.

You might have had enough, but he's not satisfied yet and before the orgasm ebbs he grabs the curves of your ass, pulling them up to their former position, while you keep your head and shoulders pressed to the bed. He keeps you like that with one hand and uses the other to shove his cock back inside, capturing the relentless flutters and contractions of your walls from your orgasm.

“Did I tell you to come?” he breathes fire, using a harsh palm to chastise you once more.

Still up in your high, you can only hum in response.

“Answer me!” he demands, extending his fingers to your lips to pull the fabric out of your mouth.

“I… I’m sorry, Sir.”

The overstimulation barely lets you word that out, as he grows overjoyed, watching you struggle between battling your orgasm and the new strange entity that overcomes your body. It’s a different kind of beast, fueled by a great amount of stamina, that doesn’t waver when it comes to picking up the same wild rhythm as before. He sweats it out, works it out, growls it out like a fucking animal until all his seed is poured into your tenderness and the lust-hungry monster is finally sated.

As that creature goes back to its cave, Frank goes limp on your side.

You stretch your legs and lay on your stomach, as he rests on his back. He notices just now how his clothes are still on and how annoying they become as they cling to the layer of sweat trying to cool down his body.

Glancing to the side, you see his chest rising and falling at a fast rate, as your heart starts to settle.

“That was…” he starts, and you can see a glimpse of a tiny smile taking over one corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you let out a sigh, sliding the leather that was still partially hanging around your neck, letting it fall to the floor.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, Frank. You didn’t.”

“I know you said that I could. But for a moment I thought– I don’t know what came over me… I never wanted to… didn’t mean to…”

“Frank,” you put a palm on his chest to stop that complicated thought. “We had sex. It was great. Don’t overthink it. I’d have hit you at any point if I felt threatened or unsafe. Trust me.”

“Bet you would’ve.”

Your lips curve up, observing his body completely relaxed for the first time in weeks.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #darlingwrites

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 3 months

Text

For All The Birthdays You Missed, Andrew

Happy birthday Andrew Kreiss I want cover you in kisses sobs

Rated Explicit | Warnings: Vampire AU

Birthdays are rare to be celebrated in the manor, if ever. Many have either forgotten when they were born or lost track long ago of how old they are, so no point in baking a cake. It is rather depressing, but you respect the boundary (Luca loves birthdays though he makes up numbers guessing his age each time).

“Andrew,” Then you learned one of them never had a proper birthday, and you felt the need to, at least, give him this. A happy memory in this new life, silly as it may seem to others, but you hope he likes it. “Happy birthday.”

The cake is a simple yellow cake with vanilla frosting and purple flower designs. A ‘Happy Birthday, Andrew’ written on with a single candle in the middle. A private celebration between you both in a hotel in the city away from the others. He has you all to him all day.

“Andrew?”

Andrew is quiet as the candle burns, you notice the build-up of tears at the corner of his eyes as he watches the candle burn. You smile gently as you wrap your arms from behind around his neck, rubbing your cheek against his. The table is clear of everything outside of the small cake and two plates and a knife to cut the cake. The fancy hotel room is a bit much for him but he will see why you set this up later on.

“Make a wish, birthday boy.”

He takes a deep breath and then blows out the candle.

“Thank you.” He says finally, “You didn't have to.”

“I want to and we can have as many more birthdays after.” Kissing his cheek, “Next time though, Luca would like to join.”

“S-sure.” Andrew is not sure if he is ready for that level of energy that man can bring.

“We can work up to inviting him.” Moving away to cut the small cake, “First cake then your gift.” Winking at him.

“Gift?”

You nod as you give him a plate serving him the biggest piece with the flower on it.

The gift is him naked and covered in red lipstick marks, he is hands bound to the bedpost keeping there but he can tug hard enough to break out. “Andrew, you are so beautiful.” Riding him as he feels like enduring your praise tenfold. You have adored him before but this is worse as you used a camera, one that prints out the pictures instantly, to show him your favorite parts of him. Those pictures were scattered all over the bed.

His albino skin is a bright pink from how much he is blushing as you moan out his name.

“Enough already!”

You squeal loudly and rather embarrassingly as breaks out of the loose binds to pin you down on the bed, breathing hard and his face completely exposed as you brushed back his hair previously.

“(Name).”

“Andrew.” Your hands are free to touch his face as he leans down, “You can move. This is your gift.”

When he first met you, he had accidentally killed you… Gruesomely. He felt like a monster. Burying you in some unmarked grave only for you to return to him partially healed on a stormy night terrified him.

He swore you were God's divine punishment upon him, you were a test and he failed! You were going to kill him. It took him weeks to be able to look you in the eyes, much less be in the same room. He did not immediately go to the manor either fearing it was a trap but came when he became desperate for blood.

Now, you are the most important person in his life, and value him more than anyone ever has both before he was a human and after he became a vampire.

His mother… Sometimes he wonders if she would have liked you. Someone strong enough to shoulder the world with him.

“I love you.” He says without thinking that he pulls back in fear but you grab him before he can panic.

“I love you too, Andrew.” Sometimes when you are serious it scares him, Naib Subedar is like this when Norton has his episodes, you return those feelings to him. “I love you, Andrew Kreiss.” Staying still for a few heartbeats, “Now fuck me like you love me.” Ordering him.

And he does with all of his love and then some.

#idv #reader insert #andrew kreiss #andrew kreiss x reader #andrew kreiss x you #idv grave keeper #idv x you #idv x reader #identity v grave keeper #identity v andrew #grave keeper x you #grave keeper x reader #identity v x reader #identity v x you #identity v

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heartshapedbubble · 9 months

Note

frederick and andrew with an s/o that loves giving them words of affirmation and acts of service??

here you go anon!!💞

frederick kreiburg and andrew kreiss with a s/o whose love language is words of affirmation/acts of service hcs🎼🕸

frederick kreiburg🎼

he's not as anxious as andrew, absolutely, but the exact same question runs around in both of their minds...

"do i really deserve this? why me, out of all people?" he wonders, even asking you directly, but he shall accept your affection nonetheless, out of appreciation and good manners

always feels guilty as he doesn't know how to repay you for your kindness, so in response to your kind words and acts he never forgets to shower you in praise

i'd say that he, when giving out affection, is bigger on the act-of-service and quality time part, at least on the surface, so he finds taking you out for dinner or opera the best way to thank you, refusing your pleas to at least split the bill

the time and moment(s) when yours' and his words of affection hit the hardest are during the dead hours of the night, cloaked behind the wine red curtains of his bed, your bodies intertwined with each other and his brain numbed out to nothing but the vibrations of your voice whispering praise into his skin, him pressing his lips onto your temples and combing through your hair with his fingers

like any artist, he's starving for praise - although, obviously, he won't ever admit it as he's well-mannered - and will cherish every single compliment or affirmation you give to him, never forgetting to get back at you with one when you least expect it from him

andrew kreiss🕸

ashamed and his face completely pink the first time you insist on helping him with reading labels or you compliment his hairdo that day - not going to lie, he's going to become a bit selfish and start craving it even more, going to extreme lengths just to hear some more gentle praise seep out of your mouth or to feel the softness of your palm through his leather gloves as you lead the way

the sudden ego stroke is new yet so incredibly addictive to him to the point he might become clingy or way more affectionate than he usually is, not wanting to let go of this daydream he's living in

in response to your affection - he obviously has to shower you with twice as much love and care, no? it's the only reasonable thing to do in his eyes

as much as he's determined to get back at you he's still incredibly shy in delivery, muttering it out nervously and maybe even rushing whatever he wants to help you with in fear that stretching it out will increase the chances of him embarrasing himself and ruining the image of him you have in your eyes

it's scary, leaning his head closer to your face to kiss it, complimenting your appearance that day, tending to your injuries in fear that he might mess up the wound even more and cause even more harm, gifting you some fruit he picked from the garden - brand new opportunities, leading to hundreds of both good and bad outcomes yet if it's for you, then he shall combat his fear of failure

as much as andrew seems naive due to his upbringing he doesn't trust people that easily and now that you gained his trust he's going to become very protective of you especially if you two end up in a match together, not letting the hunter (or the other survivors) get a single hit on you

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sarahs-secrets2 · 1 year

Text

Cologne (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

Another thank you to @loneghostwolf for supplying me with so many gorgeous photos of Graves, I am forever indebted, also I kinda like how this looks with the song lyrics for the photos

Based on Cologne by beabadoobee

gn! fem biased (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 886

Warnings: really just fluff, domestic life asf, pet names, allusions to sex, pre-established relationship

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“Hey” Phillip’s morning voice broke through the quiet morning air, as his armed wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him in the bed

“Hey,” you whispered back still waking up,

“I gotta leave soon darlin’”, he sounded tired, and you could tell it wasn't from just waking up.

“Stay with me, please”, you shifted as you placed your head on Graves’ chest as he lightly stroked your hair. Silence consumed the room again as you felt your eyelids get heavy, your body refusing to wake up.

Phillip sighed, “I wish I could stay here for the rest of my life, you know that”,

“Me too”

He placed a small kiss on your head before getting out of bed. You watched as he walked towards the bathroom in just his boxers. Last night's events were still evident on both of you. Phillip with nail marks scattered down his back, and you with hickeys all down your neck towards your collarbone.

Phillip, now in the bathroom, twisted the shower knob allowing the water to spew from the shower head above. You watched his reflection through the bathroom mirror that allowed you to peek into the room without having to leave the comfort of the bed beneath you.

“Phillll-” you dragged out, “Don’t use all the hot water please,”

“I’m not the one who takes hour-long showers now am I?” you heard him chuckle in the bathroom, he looked in the mirror catching your eye. “No peekin’” he tsked a finger into the mirror for you to see.

“Nothing I haven't seen yet Commander”, you continued to watch as he checked the water to make sure it was warm. You could tell he was satisfied with the temperature as he began to peel off his boxers, giving you a perfect view of his ass in the mirror. You let out a whistle, causing Phillip to shake his head as he hopped into the shower.

You turned over in bed, swinging your legs off the side as you forced yourself to get up. Your eyes scanned the floor, more evidence of last night scattered around the room as you finally landed on a white cotton t-shirt of Phillip’s, it was tousled and lying next to his jeans. Throwing it on as you decided to join Graves in the bathroom, the steam from the shower made the air stuffy, and the mirror was now coated in steam with beads of water dripping down.

As you attempted to wipe down the mirror to make it somewhat visible, Phillip finally turned off the shower water. He stepped out wrapping a towel around his waist, then grabbed a spare towel, ruffling it through his hair to get any excess water out. You watched from the bathroom sink as you brushed your teeth, giving him a toothpaste-covered smile, which earned a laugh back.

“Cute shirt, where’d you find that?” Graves sauntered behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist slowly rocking you back and forth as he kissed your neck lightly.

“The floor,” you answer after quickly spitting and rinsing the remaining toothpaste out, “finders keepers, sorry to break it to you like this”. Phillip’s hand went to his heart, his horrendous acting skills on display as he pretended to be upset, causing you both to laugh.

“Keep it, looks better on you anyways doll” he winked before walking back into the bedroom to get dressed. You listened as he shuffled through drawers getting his stuff together for another deployment, turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror to distract yourself.

Phillip reentered the bathroom again, this time in his signature blue button-up, as he joined you at the sink. As you started to fix your morning hair, so did Graves, he began to lightly apply some gel to look more presentable. He then moved on to his cologne, spritzing it onto his wrists and his neck. You took a deep breath allowing the scent to float around you. Phillip always smelled good, it was one of your favorite things about him. He had gotten you a new bottle of his favorite cologne so whenever he was gone you could spray it and smell him, no other gift he had given you since had been able to top it. You had stopped getting ready at this point and had decided to take in Phillip’s presence before he had to leave.

“Give me a spray,” you stuck out your wrist for Graves

“You have your own bottle, don't ya? Don't tell me you used it all already?”, he chuckled to himself as he sprayed your wrist, lightly spraying his shirt you were wearing, as he winked at you. He knew you wouldn't take that shirt off till he got back now.

“It’s more special when it’s yours,” you wrapped your arms around him, taking in the scent again. Graves’ pulled you into him squeezing lightly as he hugged you, his chin resting lightly on your head.

“I’ll be back before you know it, right?”

“I know, I know, just let me enjoy this for now” you squeezed back into the hug. Moments passed as Phillip attempted to tug away slightly. “I'm not done yet Graves, you're not going anywhere”

“Anything for you doll”, he muttered as he placed a light kiss on your forehead.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

tumblr legit hates me this glitched out so many times idk why, if you see a typo pls lmk

#Spotify #phillip graves cod #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #philip graves x reader #warren kole #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod graves #graves x reader #phillip graves imagine #graves mw2

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ackerifle · 4 months

Note

Yandere Levi finding out reader is pregnant by another man

a word with you!

yan. no regrets levi ackerman x fem prostitute. reader

+ CW. — harassment, coercion, delusional behavior, kidnapping, confessions of murder, threats of domestic violence/abuse, implied: slight past age-gap relationship, baby-trapping; darling’s pseudonym is galatea; not proof-read.

it was simply too good to be true, you had known it then, and you know it now. but wishful thinking and desperation will do terrible things to good people, no soul would willingly continue living in the underground should they find themselves with any better alternative. at a constant risk of disease and decay, mother nature’s evident distaste for her children dwelling beneath the surface, careless to the living that remained untouched by the sun. abandoned by its creators in favor of more ‘pressing matters,’ the people left relinquished in a forgotten city of ruins had fallen on hard times, people like yourself.

and thus, you had found yourself in quite the predicament. although nothing in your life had ever come particularly easy, and this once, just this once, you could manage all on your own. there was no shame in working in a brothel, not when the people around you were often worse off than yourself, and pride was a small price to pay for simply surviving. it was only once you had first bared witness to the frequent deaths of the other prostitutes had you ever come to the realization that the madam must have really favored you a lot— to clean you, to clothe you, to feed you, to care for you; to keep you. but the state of affairs in the underground have since changed from the time of your youth, you’ve changed. you wanted out, and you were not immune to making grave sacrifices for what you wanted.

you’ve encountered and met many clients in your time, men and women alike, and it is rare for new faces to draw your attention. but as of late, there has been one. a soldier from the surface, a military police member who seemed far too young to be venturing below the safety and security of the royal capital by himself, and far too naïve to be falling absolutely head over heels for some prostitute who only offers an hour and faux moans in return. it almost tugs at your heartstrings, almost. he isn’t as innocent as he looks, and you are reminded why terrible things happen to good people. he had held citizenship over your head since the moment he met you, through legal marriage, and one simple request: that you give him a child. after all, who was a man of his merit to invest such a scrupulous amount of time into a common whore without the reassurance she won’t leave him right away?

so you do, allowing him to touch and hold you in a way your other clients could only dream of. to whisper sweet nothings in your ear about your future together, because admittedly, you too are thinking the same thing. thinking about your future, but you find that there is nothing romantic about it. and perhaps the worst of it all, he hasn’t come back for you.

laying down on your tarnished bed of tattered sheets and thin blankets, you stare aimlessly at the darkened ceiling. without thought and without interest, it has been weeks, maybe months, and you think you’ve truly fallen ill, “dammit, i knew i shouldn't've let that prestigious prick back in here.” forever grateful and beholden to the brothel keeper, she continues to tend to your needs, even now.

“look at you. so sad, little girl.” the madam coos apathetically, but her actions say otherwise. a gentle hand checks your temperature, brushing aside any loose strands of hair with the swipe of her thumb. her frown only deepens when she just barely pushes your head back, met with complete compliance as your head tilts further into the pillow from even the slightest of movements. somehow, you’re still so tired and still so restless, “i’m sorry.”

she’s upset with you. she’s been upset with you ever since you’d been involved with that shady scumbag, but truthfully the madam is more upset with herself. and she wants to ask why you of all people are apologizing, but she doesn’t, “i’m sorry too.” there is more she yearns to say, her mouth is still open, as if to somehow keep you responsive in this one-sided conversation, but nothing comes out. and it’s too late when there are three loud and concise knocks banging on the door downstairs.

the madam is quick to pry a worried hand from your unresponsive body, storming towards the exit of the oppressive room, but not without taking a curious glance in your direction. her remorse does not last long, as she shuts the door with a shove, but is intentional in not forcing it too hard. and you are left alone. swallowing dryly, your eyes dart around the room, and you wonder just how intense that person must have been hounding at the door for both you and the madam to hear it from a story above. but that was no matter, it was already noisy in the brothel, the walls were thin because peace and quiet was no luxury anyone living there could afford; and who knows how many women you shared the small space with. and surprisingly, it benefitted you greatly to be sick, as the madam refused to work you; and you’d known girls who worked during pregnancy, it never did end well for them.

deafening commotion could be heard ringing throughout the brothel, to the point it had felt as if the walls were shaking and the building was caving in. you chalked it up to hysterical figments of your imagination, that the floorboards beneath your bed weren’t vibrating, and that the sound of a panicked woman and determined man arguing with one another weren’t getting closer, “sir! galatea isn’t well, she’s not seeing anyone right now!”

“i don’t give a shit, lady. i know name is still here, she hasn’t left this fucking whorehouse in a month.” it pains you that you recognize this voice, and it isn’t the one you want to hear.

brazenly, the door is reopened with much more ferocity and wrath than it had initially been closed with, and it startles you. despite anticipating a confrontation as the verbal fight had neared your room, it comes as a surprise when the door nearly breaks free from its hinges, revealing an all too familiar black haired man. he looks awful in the dour lighting, and he adorned a uniform that haunted your very soul. a lesser version of what the military police had dressed in, lacking the coat with their respective symbol, it was the odm gear that struck you odd. eyes averting, you had noticed madam — who was standing behind him, with a languid arm extended towards his figure as if to grab him — was somehow much worse for wear as she had a dramatic hand over her heart as she caught her breath.

you regret not locking the door, but then again, that has never stopped levi from doing what he wants. he calls to you only by your name, and your spine crawls. whipping his head around, the hand levi had placed over the hilt of one of the unsheathed blades draws it from the holder, and he wastes no time in threatening the madam. it only takes the sight of the sharpened edge looming dangerously close to her neck for you to yell at her to get out. she hesitates, and you know why, the madam has failed to protect you countless times from levi, but this will be the time it counts, and she knows it too. but the downright malicious glare levi sends her way has her halted in her steps, and she makes no effort to stop levi as he enters the room and places a deceivingly quiet palm flat on the door, all whilst maintaining eye contact with her, before he slams the door behind him.

you set your hand on the bed, forcing yourself to sit up as levi stomps his way over to you. and the closer he gets, the more uncharacteristically messy you realize his clothes are. the white shirt he so often wears is not clean, it’s rather dirty in all honesty, sullied with what appears to be sidestreet grime and dross filth. his boots are muddy, dragging in sludge and black water that hadn’t already been scraped off at the doorstep and staircase. but perhaps what was the most disturbing were the stains of blood on his gear, ranging from inconspicuous flecks to big streaks that were likely still wet. levi must’ve noticed your perturbed observation, because when he finally finds himself standing before you, he bends down and grabs your jaw in his hand, roughly squeezing your face, and leaning down until your noses are just barely touching.

“i leave you alone for a month, and you let some piece of shit from the mp’s knock you up?” it’s his eyes that are the scariest, more than his strength, and you crumble underneath his scrutinizing gaze. your retaliation is much more timid than you intend it to be, as if you were guilty and confessing your sins. sins of disloyalty to a man you aren’t even with in the first place, “you can’t expect me to want to stay here, i saw a way out, and i was going to take it.”

it doesn’t cross your mind to question how he knows all of this. you’ve simply accepted it as fact that you will never experience true privacy after meeting levi. in retrospect, it’s ludicrous that you’re even explaining yourself to him, but you are and it’s not helping your case, “and how did that work out for you?” levi spits venomously, violently shaking your head side to side in his grasp until your eyes were rattling in your skull. levi only lets go to prop his foot up onto the side of the bed.

instinctively, you lean away from his knee, which is almost parallel to your head, setting your hand on his calf in an attempt to direct his body away from yours. levi places the blade he had refused to release from his grip back into the metal box it belonged in, dropping his leg to the ground and hoisting you up by your shoulders, “groveling at the feet of those pigs, you’ve become real pathetic, haven’t you?” you want to defend yourself, to call him a hypocrite, to call him pathetic for harassing someone like you that was undeserving of his badgering.

“how did you even know he was a soldier?” deflecting the topic from yourself to your genuine concerns, you go limp in his arms as levi twirls you around the room until he’s satisfied with your placement. positioning you in front of the windows, leaning slightly on the stool as he pushed you backwards until you could feel the cold glass frame through your nightgown. levi slovenly flicks the sash lock, holding onto the lift and pushing the window up, “where do you think i got all of this from?” you didn’t need any clarification to know that levi was referring to his equipment.

your chest tightens, constricting your airway as you stop breathing altogether to attain perfect stillness. you only look at him with vacant eyes, and it becomes too much when he doesn’t elaborate any further, “what did you do, levi?” he sticks his head through the window, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the top rail, and peering down at the ‘city,’ below. it isn’t as if he needed to, there wasn’t anyone on the streets. when levi pulls himself back into the room, he slings an arm around your hips to bring you closer, “what do you think i did? the man’s dead, do i have to spell it out for you?”

the prickling sensation underneath your skin erupts in waves across your entire body. you were no stranger to the realities of what went on around you, the hushed rumors of what men and women who had the will to do what they wanted to others simply because they were capable, and not out of survival necessity, “you’re sick, what is wrong with you?”

“call it what you want, but he has nothing for you. you want to leave the underground? hmph, well don’t we all?” levi mocks contemptuously, tightening his hold when he feels you threaten to slip away in the slightest. he moves you around like a rag doll by the sides of your body, until you're in front of him. levi closes the little space that was left between you, until you’re forced to grab onto him for support, seeing that straining your wrists to secure yourself by the windowsill was becoming too painful, “we can go wherever you want, but you won’t be going anywhere without me.”

suddenly, levi veers down. his body collapsing onto yours until you’re nearly halfway out of the window, and he, looming over you, “oh my god, what is wrong with you?!” you repeat, blood rushing to your head as you try to prevent your upper half from being upside down and being taken by gravity completely. levi guides your arms around his neck, loosely as you refuse to acknowledge you’re even embracing him in the first place, but your fear of falling surpasses your personal grudges. and in one swift motion, levi thrusts the rest of your body out of the window, and he follow suits mere seconds afterward. and you scream, as loud as humanly possible.

levi’s body never leaves yours, and you’re uncertain as to whether it’s because you won’t allow it, or because he won’t allow it. either way, the detach hold you had on his neck fastened into a tight chokehold the moment you had felt yourself even remotely lean back any further. the landing is much smoother than you anticipated, levi doesn’t let you touch the ground before he does. and if you hadn’t shut your eyes, or buried your face into the crook of his neck, you may have gotten to witness the vertical maneuvering equipment in action; what used to be a dream for you, to leave with it, but you could kiss those fantasies goodbye now that they found themselves in the hands of levi. and he’s cautious, all too cautious with you.

you’re trembling like a leaf, and he thinks that if he lets go of you, you’ll fall to the ground, “don’t think you haven’t pissed me off, now. there’s a million things i ought to do to you after getting with that sorry excuse of a man.” levi rests a warning hand on your shoulder, loutishly hauling you towards him until you just about trip over your feet. he makes sure you’re aware of the desolate area that surrounds you two; and it becomes increasingly obvious that no one would come to intervene. if not by your shrieking, then never. levi tilts his head with an unimpressed frown, “you’re lucky you’re pregnant with our kid, because i won’t even be half as merciful once they’re born.”

#ackerifle #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader

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fierymiasma · 1 year

Text

ʚ Keeping his promise ɞ | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Request: Can I request HufflepuffMC x Sebastian, 10 years after Hogwarts? Like they see again in some kind of reunion (they have been writing to each other but not so much) and Seb is like taken back how lovely the MC become and all? If u would like Could u also do the same with Ominis? (Is thats alright with u ofc). I know Im asking much sorry -From omg-edzia-stuff

Summary: It's been a whole lifetime since she's seen Sebastian. Ten years since she refused to speak to him, terrified of the person he was becoming. Years of absolute silence from her, never once opening any of his letters. Now, ten years later, with their class reunion coming up, he can't help but wonder if she had forgotten about their time together.

Sebastian certainly hasn't.

Words: 2.6k

My work: FieryMiasma

It was one of their rare moments of peaceful quiet. The winter of their 5th year was fast approaching. The last few leaves of autumn were starting to fall. Sebastian had invited her to the shores of the Black Lake to witness "the best sight of all of Hogwarts" and conjured up a soft blanket for them to sit together. It was either good fortunate (or good planning) that the sun was setting right onto the Black Lake's surface. His Hufflepuff was sitting next to him, bundled up in Slytherin robes that she'd borrowed from him to protect herself from the incoming night chill. He couldn't help but admire how the dying light shone through her hair, giving her an almost golden glow.

"You know after all of this is over, and Anne is back to her usual self, I would very much like to do this again, maybe at the Three Broomsticks, just the two of us, and…under a bit different circumstances."

"Sebastian Sallow." There was a blush on her cheeks. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Sebastian couldn't screw the courage to look at her in the face. "If you find it agreeable."

Her shy hand found his. "Yes, after finding a cure for Anne, defeating Ranrok, getting all this silly Keepers' nonsense out of the way, and of course, passing our OWLS," Sebastian chuckled. "I would very much like to start seeing you."

Sebastian grinned. For the first time since his sister had been cursed, his heart truly felt light, free of its chains. He was itching to kiss his Hufflepuff, to show her how wonderful she truly was, to suffocate her with his affection. "It's a promise then. A date after all this is over."

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Solomon. Lodgok. Professor Fig. Anne. The unforgivable curses. Ominis…

...A particularly nasty fight that changed the course of their friendship forever…

Sebastian sighed. Sitting by himself once again in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, he stared at his untouched drink in front of him. They never did manage to go on that date did they? Even after ten years had passed, Sebastian couldn't help but play the memory over and over in his head, like a pensieve on loop.

After…everything that happened, they drifted apart. Her, consumed in her grief of her mentor, now burdened as the last living Keeper of ancient magic. And Sebastian….a remorseful idiot, who lost everyone he loved with just one spell.

He tried. He yelled. He begged. He manipulated. He cried. He pleaded on his hands and knees, for her to give him a second chance. For him to show her who he truly was. He was lucky he supposed, that she didn't just throw him into Azkaban like Ominis and Anne had intended.

To this day, the fear reflected in her eyes still made him want to hurl. How, the most powerful witch of this century, who didn't bat an eye at trolls, goblin generals, or a hoard of dark wizards, feared Sebastian. She was terrified of him.

It was years, years of groveling for his best friend's forgiveness, years of caring for Anne at her bedside, and years of grieving at his family's graves, wondering where it all went wrong. Sebastian hoped he'd changed in the 10 years since graduating Hogwarts. At least, Anne told him he did, but she always had that way of saying things to make him feel better. He hoped he'd change from that vengeful wrathless boy he once was to…at least someone worthy of a fraction of her time.

Finally picking up the goblet of firewhiskey, he tried to find the energy to drink it. It wasn't the first time he got lost in thought thinking about her. He'd become an avid reader of the Daily Prophet, every morning frantically combing through the pages, seeing what next great wizarding accomplishment she'd achieve. What impossibilities she did with the smallest modicum of effort.

Of course, he wrote to her obsessively. His poor owl flying around the globe trying to find her. It always seemed to come back exhausted, with Sebastian's unopened letters in its beak.

Speaking of letters…Sebastian dug Poppy Sweeting's invitation from the confines of his robes. He had been sitting in the Leaky Cauldron for the better part of two hours, half debating on jumping into the floo fireplace and going back home to Anne. Scanning the invitation, he reread the details he had already memorized.

A 10 year reunion of their Hogwarts classmates. At Hogsmeade. Tonight.

He wondered if she would be there.

Mustering up the courage he didn't have as a lad, he threw back his shot of firewhiskey. Slamming down two knuts on the table, he smoothed his dress robes, wondering why he even bothered up to dress up for this whole silly affair. He made his way over to the fireplace. Sebastian hoped he wouldn't regret his decision. Climbing into the floo network, he turned around and declared:

"Three Broomsticks!"

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

She worried at her bottom lip, wondering for the millionth time, if this whole thing was a mistake. Merlin, she felt like a schoolgirl all over again. Looking at herself in the butterbeer, she nervously touched at her make up that Natty helped apply on her, smudging it worse than before. She's gotten a fair amount of new scars since Hogwarts. She was by no means that fussy over her own appearance, but…if Sebastian were coming….ugh. Her make up was definitely fully smeared now. The ugly scar on her face was peeking through. Now, Natty was going to yell at her again.

"What if he isn't coming?" She couldn't stop herself from asking her own reflection.

"Oh, he'll be here alright." Imelda answered from behind the former Hufflepuff, throwing her now-long cascading hair back behind her shoulders. "He's a simple man. Any hint of the ‘greatest witch of our generation’ being here at Hogsmeade and Sebastian will apparate here faster than a diriclaw."

The former Hufflepuff blushed heavily. "You know the Daily Prophet makes all it up right? Half of that stuff is just utter rubbish."

Imelda laughed, adjusting the padding on her professional quidditch uniform. "Yes, yes, humble as ever. You haven't changed a bit since Hogwarts."

"Imelda," Natsai Onai, the up and coming auror, appeared at their side. "Help me with the decorations! They're not going to hang themselves!"

"Duty calls." Imelda drawled as Natty swept the quidditch player away.

Alone, she sat next to the fireplace, with nothing but her worry. She couldn't help but speculate if Sebastian had changed at all. She wondered if she'd ever again see the charming, hot-tempered, loyal Slytherin she met at the first day of Hogwarts. He'd all be disappeared by the end of their 5th year, replaced by a darker version of the boy she had fallen in love with. Overcome with grief, she had left Hogwarts and London behind, traveling the world with Natty, far away of any new possible mentions of new Dark wizards in England with wild brown hair and gorgeous chocolate-eyes.

"I’ve always said that travel broadens the mind."

Her head shot up, almost afraid to see who was going to step through the fireplace.

It was Sebastian Sallow. The second the pair made eye contact, he couldn't help but smile. "Well, there's my favorite Hufflepuff."

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

She was dazed. She could hardly believe that the man before her today was Sebastian. He had filled in since she had last seen him in 7th year. His shoulders now broad and strong, his arms thick, and bare forearms sun kissed. His face was more defined and masculine, freckles now erupting all over his cheeks. He had expensive well-tailored dress robes that showed off the hard lines of his figure. The only thing that had stayed the same was his wildly untamed hair, looking as soft as the day she first met him.

The biggest change of all were his chocolate eyes. They were no longer cold and harsh. They looked so kind, a couple of soft creases around the edges, warm and inviting.

She stood up from her seat approaching him for a closer look. She couldn't believe he was even real.

"S-Sebastian, hi! Wow, you've….you've certainly changed a bit."

"And you've looked just as gorgeous as the day I lost you."

Sebastian was delighted at the way her skin turned pink. Her blush traveling from her cheeks and spreading to her neck, just like how it used to. It was a lie, in a way. Somehow, the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts turned even more lovely. Her body no longer hidden by baggy school robes. She was now dressed in an Adventurer's outfit. Dragonhide, leather straps, armor, and buckles adorned the skin tight clothing. Her clothing gave Sebastian a nice view of her full and very nice curves. Her eyes which used to be so soft and full of hesitancy were now sharp. They were quick and bold, daring her enemies to challenge her.

Of course, the biggest difference was the new (or was it now old?) fading scar that was across her nose. It figured that she of all people would have a scar that only made her look more powerful than ever before. Sebastian couldn't help but want to duel her once again. To have a girl as amazing as her knock Sebastian back on his ass with a few well-placed spells. Their very first duel was still the most thrilling experience Sebastian has ever had.

"How have you been? How's Anne?" she asked.

"She's been well. Wishes, she were here but…you know." He shrugged. "We take it day by day. Some days are better some days are worse."

"Well," she bit her lip in worry, hesitant over what she was about to say. "If you need any help, just say the word-"

"No," Sebastian gently stopped her. "I'm through with asking you to give up everything for me. I might have done it in my youth, but…no longer. You have my word." He chuckled darkly. "Not that it means much given everything that has happened."

Her shoulders softened. "Sebastian, we were both young and quite stupid. Those days are behind us now. I forgave you then, and I still forgive you now. You did everything out of love. I can see that now. What can be a better reason than love to turn to the dark?"

Sebastian laughed, his voice now a deeper rich baritone. "Well, it's nice to know that I still have one good friend by my side."

She hid her face behind her butterbeer. Hoping to get away from touchy subjects, she shifted focus. "What are you up to now?" She asked.

Sebastian spread his arms out, allowing her to get a good look at the emerald green healer's dress robes he was currently wearing. "I'm a healer now. I'm the head of the Department of Irreversible Curses and Dark Maladies at St. Mungo's. It's a new branch, just founded a year ago, by well, me I guess. You, Anne, even Ominis, really inspired me to take a bit of a…different path than the one I was headed on."

She blinked in surprise. Sebastian? A healer? Well, she supposed it made sense. He was always buried in books when they were in school together, constantly researching the next healing breakthrough for Anne. It was no wonder that he managed to pick up a thing or two here and there. "And…that's it I suppose? No more, dark arts?"

"Now, hold on." Sebastian teased. "I didn't say that. I'm the head researcher into the medical dark arts at St. Mungo's. A new subject invented by yours truly of course. There's so much untapped unexplored magic out there, that can be used for good, incorrectly mislabeled or misinterpreted as the dark arts. It's the cutting edge, it can really help our patients with otherwise incurable diseases." He laughed at the alarm on her face. "Don't worry. No more inferi. No more unforgivable curses. No following the advice of a clear lunatic like Salazar Slytherin. Anne is an associate healer on our team when she can make herself available. Half of my projects would be nowhere without her. She keeps me in check, making sure everything I do is by the books. She'll wring my neck if she ever found me even toeing the line of something dangerous."

She felt slightly bad, jumping to conclusions like that. "Sebastian, that's…that's amazing to hear! I'm so glad to know that you and Anne have done so well."

Sebastian took a bold step closer. "Well, you might have been able to hear about it sooner, have you opened the letters I was sending you."

She winced. How could she explain herself? Would he even understand? How broken her heart was after she left Hogwarts. How that sly, cunning boy that she first met had turned into a wicked dark wizard who was a stranger to her. How it tore her to pieces seeing what he became after using the Unforgivable curses. How terrified of him she was looking into those unrecognizable cold eyes. Lately, every time she saw his harried looking owl, she was sent into a panic. All of her life she has only heard bad news. Her parents. Lodgok. The curse of being a Keeper of ancient magic….Professor Figs. She couldn't bring herself to read any of his letters. If, Sebastian Sallow had turned into the new Victor Rookwood, who else but she, the Hero of Hogwarts, would be expected to put down the new threat?

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I'm a coward." She admitted. "I couldn't bring myself to read your letters. The thought of learning of something awful happening to you. To Anne." She shook her head at the thought. "I couldn't bear it."

Sebastian stepped close, their shoes practically touching. "And I can't bear the thought of you being alone out there. Traversing the world all by yourself, on all your dangerous adventures, without me watching your back."

She took step forward. They were only a breath apart. She inhaled, smelling the rich oak scent and soft cologne that was unmistakably Sebastian. "Things were a lot easier, when I had you fighting those nasty insects in the Dark Forest with me."

"Spiders." Sebastian couldn't help but correct. "Spiders aren't insects."

Her glare had no heat behind it. "I suppose I deserved that one."

Sebastian laughed, wanting more than anything in the world, to wrap her up in his arms. To go all the way back to 5th year where they were sitting together by the lake, watching the sunset.

"You know," he drawled. "I never did take you to that date to the Three Broomsticks that I promised you, did I?"

She blinked rapidly. "I nearly forgot. What, with everything that has happened, that you tried to pursue me during our 5th year."

Well, Sebastian, certainly hasn't forgotten even a second of that night. "Well, what do you say? We're here already. With a lot more friends and a lot less privacy than I planned. Want to make me a man of my words?"

Feeling bolder now that she was older, she stood on her tip toes, body mere inches from his, planting a soft chaste kiss on his cheek. "I have a better idea. Why don't use the very first spell I learned from you, disillusion ourselves, and sneak out of the party. Let's go back to the lake again, just like back in 5th year. We can bring some butterbeer and some of Poppy's pastries."

He couldn't wipe the smile from his face. "You do remember." Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he held her close to his side, casting evanesco over the pair of them.

"I'll follow your lead." He said, as if they were suddenly back in 5th year, about to fight another goblin camp.

She laughed. Her hand found his invisible one, lacing their fingers together.

The bustle and laughter of the party was loud in the Three Broomsticks as friends and family alike reconnected. No one noticed how the large oak front doors seemingly opened on their own to a twin pair of laughter disappearing into the moonlit night.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #dark!sebastian #harry potter #imelda reyes #natty onai #hphl #hl #sebastian sallow fanfiction #oneshot #harry potter hogwarts game #fierymiasmawork

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