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ashesandhackles · 3 years

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Harry And Personal Conflict: A Meta On Evolving Dynamic With Ron and Hermione

One of my last metas on Harry was how his abuse at the Dursleys informed who he is as a person and a lot of his main personality traits. This time, I want to explore Harry's relationship with conflict, mostly in regard to his best friends - Ron and Hermione.

First things first, because of his abusive upbringing where he is constantly in conflict with his caregivers, conflict is seen as Bad Thing when we first meet him as a 11 year old. And it informs how he reacts to both Ron and Hermione at first. He instantly relates to Ron because Ron is an underdog - a boy who feels neglected and passed over in his large and boisterous family. Harry shares his own experience of neglect with Ron and they both bond instantly.

His initial impression of Hermione is that she has a "bossy sort of voice" . The bossiness is an important characterstic to his impression of her - she reminds him of an authority figure and he does not particularly take to her as easily as he does Ron. Before the troll incident, he is frequently annoyed by her interventions because "he can't believe anyone would be so interfering". It's her vulnerability and the fact that she may be in danger that makes Harry, and by extension Ron, go after her. And she pays it back in full with a demonstration of loyalty to them in front of people she wants to impress: teachers. This sets the tone of his friendship with Ron and Hermione.

There is sense of easiness to his friendship with Ron, especially in earlier books that he doesn't quite share with Hermione. This is a bit gendered as well, of course. His relationship with Hermione evolves as Ron's own equation with two of them changes, more specifically Ron's cognisance of his romantic feelings for Hermione. So how does this inform his relationship with personal conflict?

Let's look at it Book wise.

Book 1-4: Since Harry tends to see All Conflict As Bad, when Hermione becomes his friend, he tends to ignore traits of her that he particularly doesn't take to. Specifically her argumentativeness - which he usually leaves Ron to deal with. For example, look at when Hermione drags him off to the kitchens in GOF. When he realises what this is about, he nudges Ron, and Ron does the protesting: "Hermione, you are trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!".

Often, you can say he is amused by Ron's more ..let's say colourful.. reactions to Hermione being overbearing. So when Ron and him are not speaking and Hermione gets a Quidditch term wrong, it causes him "a pang to imagine Ron's expression of he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky Faints". It's that deeply ingrained into the dynamic.

While Ron acts buffer and protects Harry from stepping into a potential conflict ("skip the lecture", "don't nag" he tells her), Harry's world view remains quite the same. Part of Harry's growing up is integrating conflicting points of view and gaining nuance. For example, he can't understand why someone like Snape, who seems to hate him so much, can also save his life at the end of Philosopher's Stone. This is his first venture into trying to integrate two conflicting things about a person into nuance. Dumbledore gives him a very easily digestible story, one that appeals to his ideal of his father and Harry is sated.

Again, Harry's world view is tested when he finds out that he relates with Tom Riddle - for their "strange likenesses". He doth protest too much at Dumbledore's office: "I don't think I am like him! I am Gryffindor!". And Dumbledore offers him a wisdom nugget: "It's our choices which define who we are" (paraphrasing). Harry is uncomfortable that he empathises with Tom Riddle, his parents' murderer, at this point in the story.

In the first four books, his only proper personal conflict has been with Ron.

It is depressing to think about in these terms - but Ron is Harry's first experience of unconditional love (we can even put Hagrid here, but he is not the one who spends most time with Harry). And when Ron and him fight, Harry is so hurt by the prospect that he proceeds to abandon Ron before Ron abandons him. (the whole chucking a "Potter stinks" badge at him and making a jab about having a scar is what he wants, or the fight in DH where he yells "then leave! Pretend you have gotten over your spattergoit and have your mummy feed you up"). It's an interesting defense mechanism and he feels "corrosive hatred" towards Ron during these times because Ron and him aren't supposed to be like this. Ron is a certainty in his life. It's also why when Ron comes back, Harry either doesn't need him to apologise (as in GOF) or quickly forgives him in DH - although I do think Harry thinks the locket bit was punishment enough. But even without the whole locket, I think Harry has trouble holding Ron accountable in general beyond few slaps on the wrist - especially if Ron and he are on good terms.

5th Book: This is the transition point for Golden Trio friendship. Harry has come back from an immensely traumatising night at the graveyard and his PTSD isolates him from his best friends. This is also the point where Ron, especially after GOF, is aware of his romantic feelings for Hermione ("the perfume is unusual Ron", Hermione tells him in this book). So in this book, we often see Ron and Hermione on one side, with Harry on the other.

Ron is unwilling (quite like Harry in that respect) to engage him in a direct conflict, but he is also unwilling to shield him from Hermione's nagging in this book. This is why, OOTP is the book where you see Harry ignore or avoid Hermione and lie to her more than usual to avoid conflict. For example, he tells her that Snape thinks he can carry on Occlumency once he got the basics - that is categorically not what happened. Or the entire day he spends ignoring Hermione's warnings about breaking into Umbridge's office. (The description here is comical - about Hermione vehemently hissing so much that Seamus Finnigan is checking his cauldron for leaks. ) If he cannot lie to her or avoid her, at the end of the rope, he will treat her to display of his frightening temper.

Interestingly, OOTP is also the book that his world view goes through a tremendous upheaval: mainly, his ideal of his father and having empathy for Snape. It is unnerving for Harry to see Snape being the "boy who cried in the corner" when his father shouts at a cowering woman. Similarly unnerving is that his intense empathy for him - "he knew exactly what Snape felt when his father taunted him and judging by what he had seen, his father was every bit as arrogant as Snape always told him".

While he is placated that his father grew out of it, this memory of his father being a bully is something he cannot bear to watch again in DH. Few chapters later, he grins at Ron "sweeping his hair" back to make it look more windswept, just like his father - suggesting that Harry is beginning to integrate two conflicting things he knew about his father: from the people who loved him vs the people he was cruel to.

6th Book onwards: It's interesting to me that his better appreciation for Hermione comes after OOTP (one, because she is the one who challenged the whole Ministry plan and she followed him into a trap knowing it was one anyway) but also the timing of it is in line with Harry having a more nuanced understanding of his father. He struggled to hold conflicting information about him into one cohesive person - the boy who was a bully vs the man who joins Order of Phoenix to fight a war he could very well have sat out. The pedestal crashing helped Harry gain nuance (he thinks of his father and mother with pride in HBP - of them walking into an arena with head held high). HBP also sets up his deeper understanding with Snape in DH. There is lovely meta by about this by thedreamersmusing. Read it here. HBP is also the book he feels "sorry" for Voldemort and also feels "reluctant admiration" for him - both of things he is less defensive about.

And this nuance informs his relationship with conflicts - especially the kind he has with Hermione. He is more confrontational with her and does not lie or sneak around her as much as he did in OOTP in the Half Blood Prince. ("Finished? Or do you want to see if it does back flips?" He asks her when she takes the book from him to check if it's jinxed. Or the "I hope you enjoy yourself" he calls out irritably when she declares intention to find out who HBP is. And "do you want to rub it in Hermione? How do you think I feel now?" He tells her when she says she was right about HBP).

The fact that he is willing to be confrontational with her is a big step in his character - a step up from his unregulated outbursts in OOTP, which is a function of him not knowing how to put his anger across in normal ways. He is also more willing to stand up for her in front of Ron too - "You could say sorry" he tells Ron bluntly. This is in contrast to his more quiet standing up for her in POA: "Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked him quietly. In POA, he lets the subject drop after Ron flatly refuses. Here, he presses on more : "What did you have to imitate her for?" "She laughed at moustache!" "So did I, it's the stupidest thing I have ever seen".

His relationship with Ron is an interesting contrast to his relationship with Hermione, which functionally teaches a very important lesson for an abused child who thought all conflicts are bad: That his friendship with her is challenging, and frustrating, filled with conflicts but their love for each other isn't disputed. It's a very important thing for brain development in general - to hold conflicting information in one space. The defense mechanism abused children do to avoid this is called splitting.

So, Ron allows Harry to be the age he is: a teenager and it's foundation for his further development, and Hermione teaches him how to be an adult, and therefore, spurs his growth. (In esoteric terms, if you look at Ron and Hermione as proxy parents - Ron is the Mother archetype, the one who offers unconditional love. Hermione is the Father archetype - one who demands best of him, and guides him).

Additional reading: Harry, Prongs and Prince - Harry's Inner Struggles For Forging An Identity. By u/metametatron4

Harry Identifies, and Reluctantly Admires Snape Even Before The Prince's Tale by thedreamersmusing

#harry james potter #hp meta #harry potter character analysis #hp character analysis #golden trio #golden trio analysis #harry x ron x hermione #harry and ron #harry and hermione #ron x Hermione #severus snape #james Potter #harry potter #tom riddle #albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore #albus dumbledore #metas #harry potter and order of phoenix #harry Potter and half blood Prince

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark. And hoo boy, did I run with that. I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness. Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having. Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide.

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head. It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in. He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like. He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head. “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy. He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class. But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe? I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted. Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully. “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately. She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50? He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious. You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers. You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself. If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop. He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything. “I… we have comp together? You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up. “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop. “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?”

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him. “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--”

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work. “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least. Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit. “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there��s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned. “Like basic functions on matrices! Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices. If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed. You hadn’t really meant it literally.

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged. It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math. You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once. He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked. And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before. This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator. This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop. He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace. Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears. A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right? Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going? It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down. God, he was strong. He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular. You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit. Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly. It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really. You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way! It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming. You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point. But at this point, it was unstoppable. You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet. Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs. But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell. Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds. You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore. Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more. You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black. “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire. “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open. It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls. You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you? You love my cock,” he growled. His voice was lower, gravelly. He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn. “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience. You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it. But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal. God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess. Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly. “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh? You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that? You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell. Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You asked me to fuck you. Begged me. Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words. You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed. “But, maybe you’re not playing. You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could. “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet. Isn’t that right? You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before. Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs. Your toes went numb. You didn’t even know that could happen. And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.” You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to. You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you. For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before. It was comforting, but you were still a little confused. “Really?”

He laughed softly. “Did you not notice? God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled. “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky. You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math. Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out? Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now? Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table. He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification. You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow. It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow. No assignments due today, either. And what was with the row/seat thing? Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification. It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message. “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name. You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned. Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him? How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation. Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pictures now? I did what you asked. I won’t tell anyone. just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick. You had no idea what this meant but it scared you. You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense. You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie. But she wasn’t alone. She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was. You realized why now. She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade. You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material. It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it. You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there. But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages. Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14. 45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera. PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8. 12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups. ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5. 6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror. PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2. 14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop. It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13. 1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently. Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin. “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work. “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend. What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything. They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it. Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged. “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed. “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific. You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl. You even had pretty good security, I respect that. Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop. It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it. Including yourself.”

You shivered. “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself. And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job. You watch some interesting stuff. And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please. This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little. “You look better in person though. A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what? I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends. You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised. “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick. But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you. Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders. Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation. Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button. He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are. Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way. A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.

#peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #dark!peter parker #dom peter parker x sub reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x sub reader #spiderman x reader #night monkey x reader #lmao #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n #sabs dream fic challenge

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Will

Cult girl attends her grandmother's funeral and is approached with a highly unorthodox last will and testament.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: emotional manipulation and abuse, verbal abuse, death, slight emetophobia, body-shaming, ED mention, pregnancy and family planning

There was no use recounting anything from the leading up to the funeral. You spent that first night wine-drunk, munching on foie gras, watching Arrested Development and diagnosing each character to the best of your psychological abilities. You remembered cry-laughing at the same jokes you had memorized, and reminiscing on all the insane shit your own personal Lucille Bluth pulled on you. That was the highlight of the week. It was all downhill from there.

Firstly, you were sick. That Sunday, you wrote it off as a hangover. Then, the hangover returned with a vengeance, just to add salt to the already open wound of having to pretend to mourn your abusive grandmother. At least the physical pain would give your acting an air of sincerity, you thought.

Hannibal dressed in a solid black tux: it was almost uncanny to see him outside of any of his normal checkered suits. You selected a plain black dress and a strand of pearls.

The funeral was to be held at the same country club Anna’s wedding was held. Your grandmother was like a pharaoh, insisting that the empire she built know that even in death, she reigned supreme. The country club was her pyramid.

Anna asked if you wanted to say a few words. As much as you wanted to get up and tell all her country club friends about the time she reported you as an abducted child at age twenty-two when you refused to leave your boyfriend and move back in with her, you knew that it wasn’t in good taste. You racked your brain for any story that could be considered remotely funeral-appropriate, but none came to mind.

You spent the entire funeral trying not to roll your eyes too obviously at the stories of abuse her country club friends somehow remembered fondly. Your soul just left your body throughout the entire process and you were unsure if it would ever return.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. Then, it did.

The beginning of the end was when your grandmother’s estate lawyer pulled you and Anna aside to conduct the reading of the will. He showed you to a side room, then excused himself before closing the door behind him.

“Hello, [F/N].” Liam greeted, trying to cut through the awkward silence that came with first seeing each other after four straight years. “I’m very sorry about your gran. She was a great woman.”

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.”

“No she doesn’t.” Anna muttered. “And it’s Liam.”

“I don’t mind ‘Lee’.” Liam contested. “My mum called me Lee. I actually quite like it.”

Anna was in one of her ‘I’m so upset, please ask me why’ moods. She sat on one of the heavy armchairs with her legs crossed and eyes to the wall. You weren’t going to bite.

Liam wasn’t so cautious. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She pouted, not even dignifying her husband with a look. “I just think it’s interesting that I put the funeral together all by myself and someone couldn’t even be bothered to speak.”

You shot Liam a look that said ‘way to go, jackass’.

“Yeah,” You said, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “That must suck.”

Anna glared at you. “You really have nothing to say? Really?”

You tensed up. “Let’s see, which charming anecdote would you have me tell? How about that time when she made you wear a fat suit for an hour after you complained about how the low-carb ice cream tasted like chemicals?”

Liam looked in shock at his wife. “Did she really?”

“Once.” Anna confessed, holding up one finger.

You turned to Liam, as if you were sharing some hot gossip. “That was all it took to give her an eating disorder when she was thirteen.”

Hannibal was just a fly on the wall. Anna noticed his lack of reaction.

“And I bet Hannibal knows all about this, huh?” Anna said, throwing her hand in his direction. “Because he just needs to hear all of our private family business, right?”

You stood up from your seat. “First of all, I take offense at the implication that my fiancée isn’t family.”

An evil smile spread on Anna’s face. “But he wasn’t always your fiancé, was he, [F/N]?”

“Holy shit, you cracked the code.” You said, flatly. “There was a point in time when Hannibal and I weren’t an item. Real shocker, that one.”

“You know what I mean.” She sneered, then approached Hannibal. “Dr. Lecter, is it true that before you and [F/N] became romantically involved, you were her therapist?”

Liam looked scandalized. Hannibal was just as put-together as always.

“That is true.” He said, feeling no shame whatsoever.

Anna turned back to you. “Now don’t you think that’s just a smidge unethical? For a therapist to date their much younger patient?”

You narrowed your eyes. You carried yourself with the lightness of a woman who finally had the moral high ground. “So you want to talk about what’s ethical, huh? I suppose that means you’ve told Liam about pineapple.”

All the blood drained from her face. You crossed your arms and held your head up a little higher.

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned.

“Look, could we just pretend to be a normal, functioning family for ten minutes?” Anna pleaded, as if there were anyone other than herself to blame for provoking an argument.

“That’s on you two.” Liam, rightfully, pointed out. He gestured to himself and then to Hannibal. “Neither of us have said anything.”

The estate lawyer must have gotten his juris doctorate alongside a master's in impeccable fucking timing, because that was when he decided to make his entrance.

"I'm sorry for the wait, everyone." He announced. "And I'm sorry for having to pull you aside in your hour of mourning. Usually the last will and testament is handled through email to the beneficiaries, but your grandmother was quite adamant it be approached this way."

"That definitely sounds like her." You said, exchanging glances with Hannibal. You'd talked about this for what felt like hours the week prior. She was going to pull some last-minute bullshit to humiliate you from beyond the grave. Give all the inheritance to Anna and leave a snide comment about you in a legal document. You knew it was coming. All you could hope was for it to be quick.

The lawyer pulled an envelope from his briefcase. "She specifically asked for her two living grandchildren and their significant others to be present."

"Did she say it like that?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Or was it more like, 'Anna and her husband, and [F/N] and her therapist'?"

"Mrs. Young," Hannibal said, taking your hand. "Until you tell your husband about pineapple, you aren't allowed to judge us."

Anna glared at you. "What the hell? He knows, too?!"

"Yeah." You answered. "I tell him everything."

"Okay, who or what is pineapple?" Liam interjected. "And why do I get the feeling I'm the only one not in the know, here?"

"That's cause you are." You confirmed. "And you have your lovely wife to thank for that."

"Everyone!" The lawyer called out. Clearly, he'd seen his share of dysfunctional families. "Please, let me just read the will and you can continue arguing afterwards."

"Y'know what? Fair enough." You said, crossing your legs. "Let's rip off this band-aid, shall we?"

The lawyer opened the envelope and produced a single page. He cleared his throat.

"I, Beatrice [L/N], being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions-" He began reading the long first sentence. "Including but not limited to, a collective sum of $45 million, the family home and my shares of the country club, to the first of my granddaughters to give birth."

You expected nothing. You expected something. But you never could have expected this.

"Can you please read that last part again?" You asked, unsure if what you heard was the result of a stroke.

"The entire inheritance goes to the first one of you to have a baby." The lawyer clarified, trying to make it sound like a reasonable arrangement.

"That makes sense." Anna said, nodding.

You looked at her, dumbfounded. "How in the fuck on fire does that make sense to you?"

"Well, the money would be going to a good cause." She rationalized. "To raise the baby, right?"

You shook your head. "No, this is insane. Grandma has always had this weird obsession with bloodlines, and now she's trying to incentivize us to carry it out."

"What happens if neither of us can, y'know?" Anna asked.

The lawyer pushed his glasses up his nose. "If neither granddaughter is willing to produce a child, the entire inheritance will go to the Eagle Forum, so my ungrateful grandchildren can learn about family values."

"She hated the Eagle Forum!" Anna objected. "She wouldn't dare."

"She absolutely would." You pressed your fingers into your forehead. "That's upper-class white moderates for you. And she doesn't have to be around to see when they name a fucking wing after her."

"The Beatrice [L/N] center for denying women bodily autonomy." Hannibal said. "It's quite fitting."

"[F/N], we can't let that happen." Anna pleaded. "We can't let Eagle Forum get a penny of that money."

"Why the hell not?" You said. Though on principle, you agreed, you knew this was just another one of your grandmother's power grabs. At the end of the day, she chose to leave her money to the Eagle Forum. And it would be her name on that check, not yours.

"Oh my god, you actually hate babies more than you hate conservatives." Anna stood with her mouth agape.

"Don't put words in my mouth." You snapped. "I don't hate babies. I hate grandma for trying to threaten me into having one. I hate grandma for pinning us against each other and making sure it stays that way."

"What do you have against giving me a little niece or nephew, huh?" Anna folded her arms.

"I'm fucking done." You said, throwing up your hands. "This will be the last you ever see of me."

Of course, that's what you said the last time.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #more cult girl #cult girl #cult girl 2 #tw pregnancy #tw emotional abuse #tw death #tw conservatives

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lightsaberupmybutt · 3 years

Text

A Friendly Massage (2) - Luke Skywalker x FemReader

part one is here!

This imagine is over 5000, this imagine is over 5000 words, this imagine is over 5000 words. i don't know why this is so long, i just wanted to write a quick little part two and its 5000 words of tension and smut and I'm not even sorry, you did this to yourselves.

warnings: SMUT was a tiny slice of oral (male receiving ) on the side, enjoy.

Day to day life carried on as it always had after your run in with Luke the other night, however you knew something had shifted.

And he certainly felt it too. Your usual good mornings and friendly waves in passing were met with stuttered, awkward greetings and a gaping lack of eye contact. It was obvious that something had to be said to resolve the growing tension between the two of you, but you'd be damed if you were the one to address the elephant in the room. Besides, it was HIS rather large, excitable elephant that had causes the issue in the first place.

So you waited, biding your time and convincing yourself that on some level this refusal to acknowledge your lust was actually just subliminal jedi training. patience is important right? that seemed to be something Yoda would approve of? abstinence? Although he probably wouldn't be proud of your solo late night escapades that were fuelled by fantasies of what the Blonde Jedi would have done to you if he had just had a smidge more confidence; how he would have looked underneath you while you rode him, unraveling with your every bounce, lips parted whispering your name repeatedly like its the only word he had ever been taught. You wondered if he even liked being ridden, or was he the more dominant of the two of you ? you doubted it, as much as he showed great strength and leadership in the training hall, Skywalker didn't give off the sexual prowess of someone who was largely well experienced, it made sense that he wouldn't be left with much time for bedding girls around you know, saving the whole entire planet from his own fathers borderline demonic regime.

Truly, though, you had never felt like he wouldn't know what he was doing. Especially after that massage he had given you, even if it was a tad brief. Like knew how to use his hands, even if one of them was mechanical. You found yourself wondering if he used them differently, if he happened to have more dexterity in one set of fingers than the other, how that would feel if those fingers where being put to use inside of your tight -

“Y/N? have you been listening to a word I've just said”

Youre whipped out of your thoughts by an all too familiar voice as you vainly attempt to stop your cheeks from turning pink in front of your fellow Padwan’s. You stumble to find you words while simultaneously praying Luke hasn't decided to use his weird mind reading ability in the last 10 minutes of your brain wander or so.

“Sorry sir” is all you can offer, as you truly have not the faintest of ideas of what he was just talking about. You don't miss the way luke stiffens when you use the term of authority toward him, a trick you normally would not exploit however unluckily for him, he caught you completely of guard. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before he returns to pacing,

“You can all return to your activities” He dismisses you all, and you scurry to the door with the others before he adds,

“not you, Y\N”

ah shit.

He waits until everyone has exited and the door has shut behind then before he turns to you,

“Whats up with you lately?” his teaching voice is gone, he's back to exasperated friend luke,

You chortle on a gasp of air as you shoot him an accusatory look, taking a few steps closer to him with your finger outstretched like a weapon,

“whats up with ‘me’?” you mock, showing your finger towards yourself, before dramatically turning it back on him, moving even closer.

“What the fuck is up with you Luke? your the one who's being weird with me, don't pull some uno reverse card on the last few days”

You can see the lost puppy dog look in his eyes, as he tries to scramble together some sort of reply,

“and don't fucking lie to me” you add, closing the space between you so that you're now jabbing him in the chest with your pointer finger.

“i er, .. i don't know what you're talking about Y/N” god, even the way he says your name is hot, you feel feat rising again in areas it shouldn't but you push it away, your pride not wanting him to get the best of you even if your body would quite happily will it.

“Liar” you spit at him with such venom it surprises even yourself, accompanied with another jab to the chest, this one maybe a little harder than the ones before.

“ouch” he mumbles, trapping the accusing finger in one palm and rubbing his chest with the other, the dramatics causing you to roll your eyes.

“Hey, don't do that!” he fires back, you can tell he's trying to sound stern but its not really all to effect when he's still rubbing out the pain from your finger jab.

“do what?”

“roll your eyes at me! I'm your senior” he puffs his chest, but his eyes still are full of surprise at your sudden outburst.

“really? are you now luke?” you push him, his hand still wrapped around yours, sending sparks through you arm.

“yes, i am” His voice is breathy, his breath splaying down onto your face as he speaks. You suddenly realise just how close you have managed to get to him, previously too lost in the moment. Your body is all but pressed against his, head tilted down ever so slightly so that he can be on the same eye level as you. There isn't much difference in your height, but right now he feels like he's towering over you.

Its rare that you see this side of Luke, normally so soft and docile towards you. The tension of this argument and sheer stress that has been building inside of him since your incident is starting to bubble over the surface as he's trapped so close to you now. You can tell he's surveying you, begging you to make the next move though fear he will say something he might regret.

But maybe that is what you want from him, after all the last happy accident between the two of you has been the image you have gotten off to for the last four nights.

“prove it then”

“prove what?” Luke looks confused, suddenly drawing back a little like he'd completely lost the trail of your conversation, head tilted to the side like a bewildered golden retriever,

“prove that you're my senior” you whisper back, almost not wanting him to hear it. You can tell by the way his light sapphire eyes gaze over he does though, as he watches you pull away and leave the training room, door slamming behind you.

You slip past two bodies as you rush back to your dorm, your confidence leaking and the implications of what you just challenged beginning to set in. Hans and Leia both follow their gaze after you, the two having witnessed the end portion of yours and Lukes confirmation through the viewing window while waiting for the princess’s twin to finish for lunch. Leia turned to Hans, eyes narrowed,

“you don't think they might actually….” she trails off,

“bang? oh definitely” Hans answers, still looking at the shaken remnants of Luke Skywalker, who liked like he may have lost all brain function capacity.

It had been ten hours and forty five minutes since you'd left look in your dust in the training room, not that anyone was counting. And you had concluded two facts while on your bed in that time;

Luke clearly didn't feel the same way you felt for him; you had left him with basically an invitation to come and take you and he was a no show.

to avoid facing the death by embarrassment you would inevitably suffer you will be spending the remainder of your sorry life inside the confines of this very dorm. it seemed the adult thing to do.

You muffled a yawn, the sun had long past retired, and from your place on your bed you could just make out the two moons and multiple consolations now decorating the dark blue night.

Lifting your arms above you head in a stretch, you caught a whiff of sweat and instantly sighed; as much as you had been willing to enjoy never moving from you bed until either starvation or dehydration took you out of your misery, you did happen to stink like garbage.

You scuffled off the bed and out of your cloak and training pants, that had been left on from hours ago, making a mental note that at least you'd wouldn't have to worry about washing them if you never saw look again. You shimmied out of you knickers and unhooked your bra, throwing them onto the floor to join the rest of your discarded outfit before wandering over to your bathroom and turning on the shower, untangling your hair the best you can while the water warms.

When you finally stepped under the water you let out a hiss at the feeling of the heat against your skin, basking in the feeling of droplets on your now bare body. You let your hand roam, starting at your chest and finding a path down past your belly button and hips, your skin trembling as your hand drifted over the area between your thighs.

You let out another hiss, your fingers finding their way between your folds, teasing yourself. You enjoyed the tension loss for all but a moment before flashes of luke pressed against you in the training room earlier flew back into your brain; how hot his skin had been against yours and how his scent had been so strong in his sweat after the hours of sparring multiple Padawan’s. You moaned, half in frustration with yourself for ruining your moment and the other half in want.

He's even spoiling your shower time now, what a dick.

You snatched your soap bar from the shelf and scrubbed viciously, not allowing yourself the enjoyment of a relaxing shower due to your own self betrayal. You ran some through your locks, cursing whichever part of your brain was telling the rest that this would feel a million times better if it was the Jedis hands in place of your own.

Once you had finished mentally punishing yourself, you turned off the water and stood there for a minute contemplating the likelyhood of a bang to the head removing your memory of todays events.

After all, it would be so simple, a little slip in the shower and poof! Sure, Luke would remember it all, but would he really have the guts to say anything to you about it? surely he wouldn't want to risk your recovery from a very accidental definitely not self inflicted head injury now would he? However, if your preexisting luck was anything to go off, you'd probably forget everything but the sexual tension you had for your master.

Cowardly, you stepped out safely, making sure not to fall, and wrap yourself in a soft towel, leaving your hair to drip down onto your shoulders. You step out of your bathroom, not noticing the shadow that had formed in the corner of your room until they cleared their throat, causing you to just back in sheer terror, going over on your ankle and nearly dropping your towel all together.

“Sorry i er..”

“Luke? what the Fuck are you doing” You gasp out, staring blindly into the darkness as the shape shuffles on their feet awkwardly,

Luke moves closer, the small amount of light left from outside casting across his soft face and mop of hair.

“I didn't mean to scare you” is all he can offer,

“And what part of you hiding in my room while i showered would not come across as scary?” You shot back, more dazed than angry. You knew what him being here meant, but him hiding in the most light depraved corner of your room while you tried not to masturbate to images in your head of him in your shower was never part of the fantasy.

“i didn't realise you'd be showering this late” He replied, as if that answered the question as to why he was hiding in your room so late at night at all.

You strained your eyes trying to peer at him, and he seemed to notice, taking another few steps forward into the moonlight. Maker did he look good, under the stars his skin glowed and his hair caught copper and silver highlights that made your knees weak. His soft features were taunt and there was mischief in his eyes, a familiar sight but in the situation at present it made heat grow in your lower stomach.

Something told you he could see it in your face too, whatever he was looking for, because he kept on moving in on you, like a predator after their pray, You weren't used to seeing Luke all wound up like this, the only other time being the last time he was in your room, but the situation was different this time. There was an open air of lust and anticipation flowing around the two of you, you could only compare it to what the force had felt like the few times you'd managed to master it. It was like something spiritual was drawing you two closer, your body was working on autopilot, moving without your conscious command. He had closed the gap between you by now, but he didn't make a move to touch you or even say any more than he already had, simply staring down at you. When you realised he really wasn't going to be the one to break the silence, you stepped up to the mark for him,

“Why are you here Luke” It wasn't really a question, you knew what you had said to him earlier, the words that you had been replaying over and over in your head ever since.

“Because..” He trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way of wording his thoughts, you took this as a chance to push him a little further, no matter how nervous you both were right now, you knew him well enough over the last year to learn how to fire him up, and right now a pent up Luke was exactly what you wanted. You knew you were playing with fire, but you doubted if he did react, it would be in a way you wouldn't enjoy. Quite frankly, the boy could pick you up and throw you out of your own bedroom window right now and you'd still probably be horny enough to find some form of sexual gratification from the experience

You saw his brow raise and his eyes flash before you heard his word,

“To show you what i want from you, Padawan” He smirked around the term, causing you to let out a small, nervous laugh.

“And what is it that you want from me, Master?” You hardly finish the word before his arms have snaked around your back and you're being lifted from the ground, letting out a squeal of surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist for support. He plopped you down on the bed, still situated between your legs, pulling a hand out on either side of your shoulders so that he could stare down at you.

“Thats not an answer luke” you quipped back, quite impressed at your ability to still functionally produce coherent words. He leaned down, his lips on your ear,

“oh, i think it is, Y/N” he breathed, letting out a boyish laugh before he could stop himself, almost giving you the chance to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but as his lips touch the skin below your ear and start to plant wet hungry kisses there, the words dissolve into a soft moan.

His head shoots up and you see the look of concern in his eyes, confirming that maybe Luke isn't the most sexually experienced person on this planet. The sweetness in his reaction makes you weak, but you have lost the ability to reply with words, so you communicate through grabbing either side of his soft face and planting a hungry kiss on his lips.

For a moment you catch him off guard, frozen under you lips, and you worry that maybe you have somehow misread this situation entirely. Maybe he was just fooling around with you, maybe he wants serious?

But all that concern is dissipated by his lips finding rhythm against yours, equally as passionately. Okay, so maybe he isn't the best at reading you tell tale lust signs, but oh maker can he kiss. The movement of his lips alone is enough to cause severer wetness to pool between your thighs, your spin raising off the bed as far as it can to push your body against his clothed one. You're amazed your towel has lasted this long, especially after the near miss before, but now you find yourself wishing it hadn’t. Conscious of Luke being as respectful as it is, you also know that if you wait for him to remove it you may have melted away before he sees you; so you move a hand from his face to the tie at the top of your chest and pull it open, the towel cascading around you and leaving your front bare.

You had a feeling that Luke was a little too caught up in the moment to realise, so you gently slid you hand around one of his, waiting until he shifted his weight onto his other arm before you lowered it to you chest, letting it cup your breast. Lukes eyes shot open as he let out a gasp, lips opening just enough for you to tease your tongue against his bottom lip. His hand moved instinctively to squeeze, his thumb brushing gently over your already erect nipple. You shivered and moaned in response, but this time Luke knew this meant he was doing something right, so he repeated his actions.

You had to give it to him, he was a fast learner.

Your hand moved in an attempt to untie his cloak, but the action was proving difficult while Lukes mouth was on yours and his hand roaming your body, causing you to become inpatient.

“Take it off” You managed to get out between kisses,

You expected him to challenge your direct order, but he merely sat up and untied the cloak, slipping it from himself and removing his undershirt too. You watched as the moonlight danced upon his skin, his toned chest, years of Jedi training had certainly served his body well. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Luke topless, but it was the first time you hadn't had to hide the fact that you were really looking. Realising how long you had been staring you met his eyes again, half expected to see him smirking down at you, but he was just as lost in your body as you were his;

“You - You're Beautiful” He stumbled under his breath, you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it, but it made your cheeks burn either way. Before he could say anything else, you lifted your back up from the bed and pushed your body flush against his, planting kisses on his neck, eliciting a moan from the Jedi in response. You left little purple marks peppered in the wake of you lips, something you knew he may not be too pleased about in the morning, but you figured you might as well get away with as much claiming of him you could in the heat of the moment. He quivered underneath you, from this angle you could feel his ever-growing, now comically familiar, budge, his body naturally thrusting into yours, causing a beautiful friction against your heat. Luke was lost in the pleasure, and has seemingly temporarily forgotten he had hands, so you grabbed ahold of on and pushed it down to the bottom of your stomach, lifting your core from his so he could access it. Luke met your eyes again, this time you could tell him was clueless, his cheeks glowing a deep scarlet.

“I erm” You didn't let him finish, you'd figured Luke was a little inexperienced but not to this level. The massive reverse in roles made you feel a little powerful; suddenly you were the experienced one and he was your understudy. Maybe he should be calling you master? You made a mental note to remember that fact for tomorrow when the joke might go down better than in the middle of sex,

“Just rub around here” you told him, while guiding his hand to your bundle of nerves, making sure to show him the correct pressure you wanted, and then your lips were back on his.

Luke was slow at first, and it took him a while to actually bring his fingertips between your folds, however once he did he seemed to find the exact spot you wanted him in. Whether it the pressure of his cool finger tips or the fact that he had been unintentionally teasing the area so long, you released a borderline animalistic high pitched moan, lurching forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt him chuckle against your neck, repeating his action and causing you to squeal again,

“well then” He murmured into your ear, a cheeky air to his voice, causing you to groan knowingly - you'd certainly be mocked for that vicious reaction afterwards.

You wanted to smack the smirk from his lips, but instead you lowered one of you hands between your bodies, resting it on Lukes now fully erect but concealed member. He paused momentarily, before letting out his own moan as you started to palm him through his loose trousers. There was dampness under your hand, a mix of your slick heat and his own leaking member, but it only spurred you on more.

Lukes actions had become increasingly sloppy, his hand slipping lower and lower until one of his digits unintentionally bumped against your opening, causing you to jump in his arm and whine against his ear. Luke took this as a sign to dip the tip of the finger into you, testing to make sure this wasn't the wrong move, when you hum in response he slips the rest in up to his knuckle. The action makes you tremble, and you're panting and whispering jibberish into his ear. He removes the finger and then puts in back in slowly, still unsure. Its torture, literal torture. You start moving your lower body against his hand, riding it. You're not sure what makes him do it, maybe just a reflex, but luke bends his finger ever so slightly just at the right point of entrance and hits your inner sweet spot, causing your tummy to do a flip and move wetness to peek from your core. His other hand finds your clit again, without you having to instruct him this time, and the mix of both actions causes your eyes to roll back into your head and you to let out a quieter but still prominent squeal. Luke laughs again,

“Calm down little one” He teases, confidence dripping from his ever word.

Maybe its the temptation to remove his smugness again, or maybe you're just turned on so much by this cocky side of Skywalker you've previously not seen enough of, but you instantly reach your hand under his waistband and inside his boxers, finding his length and stroking it directly with your hand.

He instantly spasms under you, almost bucking you off him, and you thank god you're near enough to your headboard to catch yourself before he does.

“sorry” he mumbles, steadying you with one hand, his other still inside your heat.

“Shhh, its okay” you reassure him, before gently removing his hand from your heat and pushing him back a bit, causing him to look at you with confusion.

“I just want to see it properly” You tell him, working on his waistband again.

“You already have” he groans, clearly getting some secondhand embarrassment from his previous accidental boner experience, but lowering his pants and boxers none the less, his manhood springing out.

he hisses slightly as it meets the cool air of the room, his head rolling back ever so slightly - and you don't think you've ever seen a sight so sinful and glorious in your life.

You lower your head down towards it but he catches your forehead against his palm before you can meet your goal,

“erm? excuse me”

“youre excused ?” you reply, looking up at him from your position almost at his manhood,

“what are you doing?”

“Oh luke i think you know fine well” You dip your tongue out between your lips, and it just reaches the very tip of his head, catching a little of what he's leaked there. Luke lets out a throaty moan in response, and you take advantage of his distraction, moving out from under his hand and licking his full length, from the base to the very tip. The sounds Luke makes in response are enough to almost make you tip over your own edge, but you try to suppress your own want long enough to put him all in your mouth and do a slow bob. He bucks into your mouth, unintentionally hitting the back of your throat and causing you to almost gag, the process causing him to mutter profanities that you never thought you would hear from the golden boy of the rebellion.

You only get in a few slow bobs before his hand returns to your head, but this time he doesn't push you away, so you continue to move your mouth around his length which his fingers get lost in your hair. You cant fit all of him in your mouth comfortably, and your mind starts to wonder to what is inevitably the next step, your heat reminding you of just how much you want him down there, fucking you senseless into your own bed while the rest of the ship sleeps (hopefully) unaware of your actions.

Suddenly Luke is tugging your hair, pulling you up from him so that he slips out of your mouth with an audible plop. You take a chance to actually look at him, surprised at just how unravelled he looks, sweat causing his locks to stick to his forehead in erratic patterns, his eyes the darkest shade of blue you've ever seen.

“whats wrong?” You ask him, your voice a little more course than you expected,

“ Im going to come” He tells you truthfully, embarrassment visible on his face. You want to giggle at his innocent response, but you also don't want him to feel even worse than he clearly does, so you suppress it and keep your eyes on his,

“Well come then “ you answer obliviously, still not truly understanding the route of his embarrassment. Sure, this wasn't exactly the worlds longest performance, but you'd seen much worse from people with much more experience - and at least Luke had actually managed to get you wet.

I want to but “ He stopped, turning away in frustration and drifting off at the very last minute, you waited for him to finish, reaching for his hand and rubbing your thumb against it, attempting to reassure him enough to let you continue.

“I want to fuck you” The way he says the words, like he knows he shouldn’t, makes it the most sinful line you've ever heard from anyone. You feel like he's just hit you with a sledgehammer, your core pulsing in response.

He still wont look at you, so you simply lean back into your bed, opening your legs, all prior shyness being pushed to the back of your mind by the raging lust that his words had fuelled.

“Fuck me then” You instruct him, and oh boy, he does.

head whipping around, Luke crawls back over you, eyes burning holes into yours as he meets your face, you bend your knees and grab his member with your hand, making sure to run it along your slit, gathering your wetness in its wake, before placing the tip at its rightful home, against your opening. Luke looks like he might burst, but you place a gentle kiss on his lips before guiding your body up to meet him, his tip entering you and stretching you out. You gasp at the feeling, Luke taking this as his cue to slow insert the rest of himself, filling you fully and causing you to clench around him on impact. Both of you are moaning now, maybe a little louder than appropriate for such a communal ship, but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care at this moment in time.

Luke was big, for sure. You remembered back to just before and internally cursed yourself for not making sure he used more than one finger one you; you were definitely no virgin but it had been a while since you'd been with anyone, and nobody had ever come near the size you were dealing with now. As luke started moving, the sensation of slight discomfort faded, and you were being overrides with a new force. You could feel every inch of him inside you, and partnered with his breathy moans of your name and his increasingly wild expressions, you could feel the coil of lust inside you beginning to build again. Maker, this was so good - surely things this good shouldn't be allowed for sinners like you.

Lukes movements got sloppy all to fast, you could tell he was fighting his high as long as possible

You were overpowered with the need to give him release, slipping one hand into his hair and the other to his cheek,

“Come for me, master” Your words caused his eyes to flash open, and his whole body to convulse, he didn't take much telling; you felt warmth leak into you as Luke let out a final throaty moan and his head flopped into your chest.

You lay there for a while, stroking the stray locks of hair from his face as both your breathing returned to a somewhat normal level, him still inside you as you started to leak out over the covers. You'd probably be bothered about that tomorrow, like the clothes unwashed on the floor and the sound complaints from the people either side of your dorm. But for now, nothing could bother you.

As you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Luke felt for the first time in years that nothing outside of this ship was worth any of his mind, he had all he needed here in this bed with you.

#luke skywalker #Luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker smut #Star Wars #Star Wars imagine #Star Wars preference #Star Wars headcannon #the mandolarian

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princeanxious · 3 years

Note

Why would you hide the Villain remus and Janus thing in the tags, I'd read the hell outta Hero Virgil turned Villain

you mean this??? shdbic aaa Yeah I want to write it, but i also want to write a lot of things. xD but this is def one of those things i’d love to write a short-ish one-shot about just so I can write it.

can you imagine? Virgil, young and anxious, manifesting powers of the light and dark variety, able to manipulate shadows and summon electricity with such fine precision because he’s spent so long fretting over accidentally hurting someone with it that he refused to even dare try and step into the hero scene until he was 150% certain that he’d trained his powers to disconnect from his emotions so that he’d never have an outburst that could even harmlessly shock or scare someone. He’s so in control over his powers that its to an insane degree just because he wants to make sure he cant hurt anybody on accident.

(complete ramble continued under the cut bc boy howdy this got so long it might as well be its own short one-shot)

And, he’s worked so in depth with his powers because of course he can’t just suppress them!(Suppressing electricity based powers doesn’t get rid of that energy, it just makes that constantly generating energy stay put and build, which makes it even more dangerous when it’s finally released, so suppression is a no go) So of course not only does he work extensively with learning how to control his powers, but also how to healthily use them and expend his energy safely, effectively, and skillfully as he grows into them. Might as well push your limits of learning just how much your power can do if you have to learn how to exist safely around others by controlling it, right?

So, by default, by the time Virgil is both old enough and confident enough in his powers to consentingly apply for registry to the worlds heroes association, he’s both insanely skilled with his powers, and also insanely talented(the equivalent to a child prodigy, not that many people in charge of the worlds hero association believe that, though.). The people who had been interviewing him believed the same, thinking him to be just another super teenager boasting about his skills when they couldn’t even sense his power, thinking that what little power Virgil did have was not even worth bothering to report anything substantial about the interview. That he’d oughta go try the villain’s headquarters, because at least they take in wandering powerless for henchmen all the time.

Virgil, feeling pissed but not quite enraged yet, because what teenager wouldn’t hate it to be so invalidated and demeaned at being out right dismissed as a threat, let alone considered more of an invalid for not having powers, starts to display his power.

First it’s the main interviewer’s phone that they’d been glancing boredly at, drained suddenly of all power. Then it’s the landline of that specific room, then it’s the lamp, the computer suddenly shuts off with zero warning and nothing of it turns on. The lamp in the corner of the room goes dark, bulb by bulb, and the printer in the room dies. Virgil’s eyes are glowing violet but he hasn’t moved any more than the annoyed twitch of an eyelid. the light’s overhead turn off, leaving the lights in the hallway still on, leaving the remaining light in the room coming from the single window in the room and the open doorway.

He reaches up a hand, and snaps once, and shadows swallow up the light over the hallway and the window, acting as a wall from the inside and out.

Now the only light in the room is his glowing eyes.

The second interviewer is struggling to summon fire from her hands to light the room, but it doesn’t work. The energy she’s using to summon the fire is immediately sapped by Virgil’s force, there isn’t even a spark. The first interviewer can feel Virgil’s power now, it’s bright and burning. It’s like he has a core in the middle of his being like a sun’s core because its storing so much power, and the only reason they can see it now is because Virgil’s using his power. He has so much control that even on a nonphysical level it’s nearly tangible, the way that they can see his shadow powers conceal even the existence of his power, now that they know what their looking at.

In mere seconds, this kid has tipped the world on their head and put the fear of god into them, an undetected yet undeniable threat in the making.

They watch his eyes tilt with his head, and the distinct sound of the entire building powering down is unmistakable, shouts of surprise and confusion due to the failure of the buildings many fail-safes failing to trigger. And then, with another snap, all power is restored to normal in the blink of the eye, all machines and lights are functioning perfectly, not an irregular shadow in sight, and all at once Virgil reads as a normal human teenager, not a whiff of power to be sensed. He looks pretty peeved, though.

“Maybe I will try my luck at the Dark Side then, at least they care about the people that look to be taken in. Let me know if you changed your mind, I’d love to have a do-over. With a different set of interviewers, mind you.” before he walks out of the interview room, off to blow off some steam legally and safely.

Imagine his outrage when a week later he’s served a summons to court, deeming him a “Threat to Society” and “better left in jail until the court can be convinced of his good nature” because he’s an “out of control juvenile gifted with an unprecedented amount of power that he couldn’t possibly control without strict legal supervision and interference and cannot be trusted to continue to exist as a normal citizen until the W.H.A deems it safe.”

Faced with possible lifelong inprisonment and zero control over the rest of his life because an association of supers think that they know better and that he��s some stupid teenager that was set loose on the world with means to only cause catastrophe and devastation, or freedom at the hands of some ambiguously grey moral decisions every once in a while and being treated as a normal human being even if he has to be a henchman to another super for a while?

The decision isn’t a hard one to make.

So imagine his surprise when he’s not only accepted into the Dark Side after being respectfully asked to demonstrate the full extent of his power and his control over it, but instead of becoming a villain’s henchmen, he instead gains the full title of Villain(with another Villain(Janus) stepping in to mentor him and show him the ropes of the rules and everything), and even further: Gets his own henchmen assigned to him.

A pair, Patton and Logan.

Patton has a partial shapeshifting ability, but it only really lets him turn into a big frog man, making him perfect for doing any of the main heavy lifting for the team, and also perfect for protecting Logan when under attack. He’s built like a himbo and is absolutely 100% a himbo, heart of gold, super strong, buff dad bod, the whole sha-bang.

Logan has a power that is one part linked with memory, one part linked with technology. His brain can retain information like a computer databank, and he can get any misfunctioning technology to work if he can get his hands on it or a connection to it. He avoids all the quirks that interfere or damage real databanks and technology(like magnets, water, and short-circuiting) and can semi-directly connect with devices he is familiar with, without having to hold/touch/look at one.

All together, they have the beginnings of a well rounded team: the brawns, the brains, and the leader with plans and the power to make it happen. Even before finding out their reasons for coming to the dark side, Virgil becomes ride or die for them. (And honestly, they’re also pretty ride or die for him too, not even starting with the fact that they’re both like 26-27 and Virgil is an 18 year old anxious mess that had to make the decision over being the bad guy or losing any and all autonomy for the foreseeable future, which is gonna fuck up any kid and young adult’s brain. So, lowkey adopt him as a younger sibling even though he’s the boss of them and just barely taller than them.(Virgil is a tol lanky boi, and while Logan, standing at 5′9″, is but an inch shorter than Virgil at the start, Virgil still has growing room and peaks at about 6′4″ by the time hes 22. Patton at his normal height is like 5′6″, but frog man height is like 8′3″)

Oh, and they definitely make the Worlds Hero Association regret not taking Virgil’s existence kindly, Big Time.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #luka writes #luka write this #janus sanders #supervillain vee au #ask to tag

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generous1ty · 3 years

Note

could you write for nagito x reader with depression? thank you so much <3

aww, hey anno, i hope you're doing ok!

personally, these kind of requests are ones that i love to do! as someone who struggles with very similar symptoms, it's something i can relate to very well. i hope that this can bring comfort to you, even a little bit. :)

thank you for requesting, lots of love. <3

✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑

LIVING

genre: comfort/fluff warnings: gn!reader, takes place during the SDR2 killing game, overall depression symptoms/depressive thoughts, we’re mean <3 well more like easily irritable and aggrivated-- also the plot is everywhere i’m sorry this was literally off the top of my head in the time span of i-don’t-know-how-many-days and i really don’t like it but-, there’s no established relationship either since it feels weird for there to be romantic stuff in a killing game to me?? but like,,,, pining works so well,, SORRY FOR RANTING IN THE WARNINGS OMG but i swear there is fluff in this i promise word count: 1.93k

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

the sight of the plain, white ceiling was a familiar one to you.

the feeling of nothingness, the fear of being empty, the overwhelming thoughts that would constantly wrack your brain, and the ones who were screaming at you to get up.

yet, no matter how cruelly they screamed at you, your body would not respond-- it was painful, it hurt to move.

you don’t quite remember the last time you were out of your cottage-- you don’t remember if you had went out of your cottage at all during this past week. you also didn’t know how many times a certain somebody would come to visit you while you laid in your bed, still staring at the ceiling in a sour disinterest.

even though you’d rather be watching a movie or doing a simple hobby, you knew not even that would produce any results for you.

it was just you, and the sight of the plain, white ceiling that was painfully familiar to your eyes.

knock, knock, knock!

the gentle taps on the door--from which you assumed were knocks--had made you sigh. you weren’t up for visitors- you weren’t really in the mood to talk in general, but you had known who was at the door.

you pushed your voice out of your throat, rolling over to your side with a groan.

“...come in.”

although with your face turned to the wall, and although he had been greeted with the sight of your back, he would speak in a soft tone. you could hear the soft noises of his feet carrying his frail body as they got closer to the bed.

they stopped, and the shuffling of his clothes had processed in your head before something was placed on to the floor. you assumed he was crouching right now, and that if you had forcefully rolled onto the opposite side of your body, you would be at eye level with him, staring into light green eyes that glowed with... hope. you think.

“good evening, [Y/n],” he greeted, not expecting much of a response back, “I brought you dinner and, like before, I won’t leave unless you wish for me to.”

your head tilted slightly left, your gaze being met with a boy with messy, white hair that seemed too fluffy to be real, a soft smile on his already too soft features, and understanding eyes that pulled you into a tight embrace.

yes, this wasn’t the first time Nagito Komaeda had barged into your room. --well, to say he barged in was an overstatement.

the first time he had entered, he hadn’t even entered. he stood out on your doorstep, a few feet away from you as he delivered food to you on a small tray with several plates on the doormat in front of your door. the setting sun and hues of gold glowing in his eyes shone brightly on his pale skin, giving him and almost majestic, angelic look to his thin frame.

“an ultimate needs their nutrition to fully function properly. though, i’m sure you don’t need someone like me telling you that-- and you probably would rather go back to doing what you were doing other than talking to a nobody like me --but i couldn’t help but notice you weren’t with everyone today, so i brought you a tray of food in case you got hungry, that’s if you’d take such an offer from me,”

he faltered for a second, but you stayed silent as to let him keep going. his friendly grin as he spoke had taken off some of the gravity of his words, and his welcoming tone had made you feel a bit more relaxed.

“of course, you can just tell me if you want me to leave and not talk to me at all, if you’d rather do so- that’s completely understandable. please don’t feel obligated to take things from disgusting garbage like myself either. if i were you, wouldn’t want to get my hands dirty as well.”

your lack of response was what he took as his cue to leave, feet shuffling against the planked floor in a backwards manner--to get out of your sights, mainly. he had opened his mouth to apologize, but you had done that first-

“sorry,” you muttered. you were quiet, but Nagito could hear despite the challenge in volume, “i didn’t mean to trouble you, really.”

you bent down and took the tray in your hands, handing it back to him in a subtle manner. he was.. stunned? shocked? he couldn’t express his words like he normally did- it was an odd feeling, really. to be speechless.

“thank you, but...” you had trouble looking him in the eye. you wanted to do everything but look him in the eye, “i really don’t deserve this, and i don’t have much of an appetite anyway, so your efforts would be wasted. i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize--” his voice was a bit abrupt, bringing your actions to a harsh halt, “you have nothing to apologize for- if anything, i’m sorry for bothering you!”

his voice, despite it’s volume, was kind and understanding. it was soft and brought a sense of security to you-- like you could feel... safe with him.

“i was hoping you’d keep it, since you didn’t show up this morning either. i was thinking in the case you hadn’t eaten, so i brought a few more plates than what everyone else ate.” he gently pushed the tray back to you with a smile, and your gaze had went down to stare at his long--and beautiful--fingers, “i think you should take it-”

he closed his eyes as he smiled, “unless you don’t want to?”

your gaze had stayed on his hand, and once he noticed your gaze was directed at them he had taken it back. he avoided your gaze and held his fingers in the other hand, “ah, apologies- they’re not very pretty and if you’d like another tray i can go back and bring one to you in gloves since my disgusting fingers had dirtied them.”

for the first time in this conversation, you had looked up. although the effort was minimal, Nagito could feel your effort. his chest tighten with your movements.

“i think they’re beautiful.” his grip tightened on his hands, “thank you.”

you slowly closed the door with a small smile.

his heart was pounding against his chest, he could feel it. it was loud inside his ears and prominent in his ribcage. he hoped you didn’t hear it- he hoped he didn’t embarrass himself during that interaction. he hoped that it would be okay to keep doing this, over and over again, to make sure you were okay.

yeah, to make sure you were okay.

“how many times have you done this, Nagito? you know it’s useless, i barely eat,” you huffed, chest dropping rapidly from the exhale.

“if you want an exact number, this is the 19th time i’ve come into your cottage to deliver you food, in short 2 weeks and 5 days.” he answered, gently tapping your shoulder so you got the memo to turn around, “and i’m just making sure you’re doing alright, since no one else will unless asked. i’m pretty sure they think you’re plotting their deaths.” he let out a breathy chuckle.

“let them believe what they want.” you had slowly gotten up, groaning and letting little exhales escape your nose before sitting up properly on the bed under you. it was uncomfortable not having anything to lean on. “who or what they villainize is not my problem. they’re just idiots. all of them.”

“now, now, i don’t think that’s a nice thing to say.” he placed the tray on the bed, looking at you as if to ask for permission to sit on the mattress with you. you sighed and changed your position on to the wall, making room for the man to sit. he smiled. “after all, they are ultimates like you.”

“that doesn’t have to do with anything i said.”

“they harbor just as much hope as you do, so their thinking isn’t flawed at all. and neither is yours, no matter how much i disagree with it. since, i don’t really have a say in interfering with what you think.”

you nodded slowly, leaning your head on the wall and looking outside. luckily, your cottage wasn’t one of the ones stuck in between houses-- whether Monomi or Monokuma made that intentional or not, you didn’t really care.

it was beautiful out, as the stars made their way into the sky, painting it bright yet somber colors. it gave you a nostalgic feeling that lit up in your chest and refused to go out. with your silence came Nagito’s as well, staring out the window with you.

“don’t you think this whole thing is useless?” you asked, blinking mindlessly, “making us kill each other and stuff, creating motives for us to do so and having class trials to eliminate each other even more. there’s no point in doing any of it-- being suspicious of each other and villainizing people.”

“i mean, if i’m going to die anyway, there’s no point to leaving this cottage. or making friends. or talking to you or anyone else.”

your gaze had wandered into his, in which were staring at you in mezmerized adoration. your eyes held pity, sorrow, sadness.

“you don’t have to keep doing this, seriously. you don’t have to come visit me, or give me food i won’t eat, or talk to me, or listen to me. i’m just going to die anyway.”

“i just want to.”

his words startled you. the words that left his pretty, pink lips had given your heart a small surprise-- but to say you hated it would be a lie.

after all, all of Nagito’s actions were of his own accord.

it’s not like you ever forced him to-- nor did he feel obligated to, either. maybe at first, but he always came back-- no matter how many times you reassured him when he watched you eat in your cottage to make sure you had something for the next day.

he always came back. not because he felt like he had to, but because he wanted to. he wanted to check up on you, he wanted to see you.

but to Nagito, he just wanted you.

maybe it was your mild vulnerability towards him that had drawn him in at first, but to him, he just wanted the entirety of... you. he wanted to get to know you, to shelter you, to hold you. of course, those would never happen-- not in a lifetime, but he was grateful he could even be this close to you.

so to hear you say those words-- those words of “it doesn’t matter” or “i’ll die anyway”--his heart became heavy because of those words.

i mean, he had also been there before, after all.

with the many cuts and turns his luck cycle would take, it would eventually spiral into a deep depression. he didn’t know what caused yours, but he did hope he could alleviate some of it. that was what Ultimates and Hope’s Peak had done for him, after all.

he didn’t know if he was mixing up the feelings of romantic need with the need to help you mentally, but he just wanted to be. he wanted to be, with you. he wanted to live, with you.

“we all die someday,” his words felt heavy on your chest, “but i want to live with you.”

and your chest felt a little flutter in it that evening.

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frozensriracha · 3 years

Text

🖤💙EJ and his s/o taking care of Artemis headcanons🖤💙

A gift for @thatoneweirdnerdygirl! Enjoy~

So, I’ve mentioned on my blog that EJ has a dog, whom he loves like a child. Her name is Artemis, and she’s a hellhound. Below is how I imagine her to look:

Artemis probably introduces herself to you fairly quickly. As he’s her primary caretaker and she functions partially as a seeing eye dog and a guard dog, she’s very protective of him, and when a new human, especially one who’s close to him, comes into the picture, she gets very suspicious.

Artemis will never be mean or even growl, EJ was very diligent in training her, but she probably will be a bit standoffish at first. You may assume that she doesn’t like you, but EJ will reassure you that this isn’t the case; she just needs time.

Soon after the initial introduction, EJ starts easing you both into interaction. He suggests that you accompany him and Artemis on walks (which totally isn’t an excuse for a romantic walk through the woods to enjoy the sounds of nature, no,) and after a few walks, he lets you take her leash, and probably puts his hand on top of yours.

After spending some time together and seeing you’re not a threat, Artemis will quickly grow to adore you. EJ is thrilled that you two are getting along so well. He doesn’t usually like bringing Artemis on dates, but if it’s nothing fancy, he will gladly pull out her leash and bring her along (much to her happiness)

She’s a very playful pup, and as much as she enjoys running around in the forest, she always prefers engaging with you in a game of fetch or tug of war. EJ is her primary walk guy, since he knows the forest best, but she definitely will not complain if you take her, especially if it’s to the city. Artemis knows she has a lot of energy and can be tiring, so she always turns around when she senses you’re ready and goes home for some well-deserved cuddles

She may pretend to be all tough, but she melts when you call her a good girl, especially if it’s followed up by scritches (and treats don’t hurt either). Her two favorite places to be petted are under her chin and ears, and when you pet them, be prepared for a barrage of licks and snuggles.

That, and sometimes, when you and EJ try to kiss or cuddle, she wedges herself in between so she can get some of that good good hooman love

When you and EJ start sleeping in the same bed, Artemis will be ecstatic. Her two favorite people, both sleeping by her? Score!!

She normally acts as a foot warmer, but if it gets cold, she’ll cuddle up between you guys. One particularly cute thing she likes to do is lay across both your laps!

You and EJ once woke up to her cuddled up between you, softly snoring as she rested her chin on your pillow.

Artemis’ guilty pleasure is human food. EJ resists her pretty easily, seeing as he can’t see her puppy dog eyes, so she usually begs you for food. She has no medical issues, so EJ doesn’t mind her having a scrap of dog-safe human food every once in a while. Key phrase: every once in a while. After she once flipped a lasagna off the table, you, with Sally’s help because she and Artemis are friends, took to the kitchen and started making Artemis some treats! She was slightly skeptical at first, but they’re her favorite treats now. You recently showed EJ how to make them, and he never realized how much he missed simple domesticity until you two were cooking together on a winter evening with your sweet dog sitting on the couch

As a hellhound, Artemis is a smart girl, and she can read you very well. If you’re sad, and gives you little nuzzles and licks. If you’re nervous, and goes into a protective stance even when there’s no danger. If you’re angry, well, she will personally hunt down the source of your anger, bite it, and then look at you with the cutest puppy eyes for pets.

Going off that last one, Artemis is. Lowkey overprotective over you. If you’re sick or hurt, you will have not one, but TWO demons constantly at your side. EJ can do the medical stuff, but Artemis designates herself your emotional support dog, and stays by your side until you’re all better. Once, when you were out and some creep wolf whistled at you, Artemis barked and chased them into the forest. She didn’t attack them, but she did scare them and promptly informed EJ so he could do the same

Artemis also does tricks! EJ helped Sally teach her a few, and she’ll do them for treats. She knows how to sit, roll, shake hands, high-five, open and close doors, spin, and even play soccer and hide n’ seek! She likes doing those last two with you and EJ a lot. She’s not a good hider, and she’s a tad clumsy, but she enjoys herself.

If you have any other pets, she’ll be fine! She’s pretty easygoing unless provoked, so unless another animal tries seriously attacking you or EJ, she won’t mess with them.

Artemis isn’t scared of much, but she is scared of loud noises, mostly thunder and gunshots, and when she hears one, she’ll usually hide under a blanket and cry for you and EJ. The first time you saw Artemis scared during a very bad thunderstorm, it was heartbreaking. She calmed down pretty well when you started holding her and when EJ came along a bit later to spoon the both of you. EJ’s purring noises also have a calming effect on both of you.

When Artemis gets pooped out after playing and going on the odd mission with EJ, she likes watching either nature videos or animations! She likes nature, and she likes the simple shapes and bright colors of animation, despite her being colorblind. Unfortunately, there is one drawback to the nature videos: Artemis tries to interact with them. Once, you tried to show her a National Geographic documentary, and when a squirrel came on, her brain went “SQUIRREL!!!!!!!” and she jumped at the TV. The TV was unharmed, but Artemis’ nature video rights are limited.

About six months in, Artemis will lead you to a small room in the mansion. When you open the door, you’re going to be greeted by four small puppies! She’ll individually bring them over, dropping them one by one in your lap. The puppies will LOVE you. They’ll run up to you and lick you and nuzzle you, dropping toys at your feet and getting you to play with them.

At a certain point in your relationship, EJ will want to build a nest with you. Artemis respects the bond between mates and generally stays out, but she’d be so happy if you invited her. If not, she will probably guard the nest.

If you two get married, Artemis will be the flower girl. I don’t make the rules. She does. Also, EJ will never admit it, but if you call yourselves Artemis’ parents afterwards, he will melt.

If you and EJ ever have children, Artemis will be all over them. If you get pregnant, she’ll curl up next to you and refuse to leave your side. She’ll try bringing you food! It’s not exactly in consumable condition, but she tries her best.

Regardless of whether you have children biologically or not, she will become even more protective of you. She even growled at EJ once or twice before being told no. When the kids come home, she will automatically adore them. Once, you and EJ were looking for her, and you found her curled up in the middle of the playroom with the kids snuggled up to her. She probably introduces her puppies too, which pro

Although she may be suspicious at first, once you win Artemis’ trust, she and her puppies will love you fiercely and will be proud to call themselves your fuzzy friends for life ❤️

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #jack nichols #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta x reader

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rookie-ramsey · 3 years

Text

Across the Universe, Chapter Two

Description: All the medical training in the world couldn’t prepare Ethan for a terminal brain cancer diagnosis.

Preview: The confession rolled from her lips before she had a chance to think twice. “I… showed Harper your scans to get her opinion. She thinks it could be partially operable.”

Ethan’s expression faltered, his brow furrowing in anger. “You showed Harper my charts after I asked you not to?”

Warning: Terminal cancer and eventual major character death. Read with caution.

Previous Chapter

Olivia rapped her knuckles against Harper’s door. Her breathing shallowed with anxiety in the moment that passed before Harper called, “Come in!”

Taking a deep breath, Olivia gained some sense of composure and let herself into the office. “Dr. Emery… Harper, may I ask a favor?”

“Of course. What do you need?”

Olivia’s face heated with worry as she handed Harper the envelope. Even if she’d taken any trace of Ethan’s name off of them, she couldn’t suppress the guilt she felt for going behind his back. “These are some scans and test results. Glioblastoma multiforme, right frontal lobe.”

Harper’s smile faded as she took the charts and studied them. “I don’t remember a patient being admitted with this condition.”

“It’s… not one of our patients. It’s a friend of mine from school. He reached out to me but wants to keep it to himself until he knows anything. I promised I’d get him a second opinion as a John Doe,” Olivia lied, guilt gripping her heart.

Whether Harper suspected something or not, Olivia didn’t know. She watched nervously as Harper scrutinized the films.

“I’m sure you know that this is the most aggressive type of brain tumor. They grow quickly and new ones can develop in other regions of the brain.”

“I know. I just… I thought maybe you’d know more than I do. I know it’s probably inoperable, but…”

“GBMs are usually inoperable because of the way the cells develop in the brain tissue,” Harper confirmed. “Even if there’s a chance of removing a portion of it, it’s not possible to remove every trace. The tumor would inevitably return.”

“What would you do?”

“If this were my patient… I’d start with targeted radiation and chemo. If the tumor shrunk after a few weeks, I’d remove as much as possible and follow with another course of treatment.”

Olivia nodded. “And what prognosis would you normally give? I know the usual prognosis is five to seven months without treatment, twelve to eighteen with.”

“That’s right. The five-year survival rate is less than five percent. I think you were right to ask for another opinion, but… you know that with or without treatment, this cancer is brutal.”

Olivia inhaled sharply and managed another nod. “I know. I just… I guess it’s harder to think when it’s a friend. I know to watch for worsening pain, personality changes, cognitive and emotional problems…”

“Those are all to be expected. As the condition worsens, expect problems with balance and coordination, vision problems, emotional and cognitive problems… almost every function suffers.” Harper glanced at her curiously. “Whatever your friend needs… you know where to refer him.”

“Yeah.” Olivia’s heart stuttered as she hoped Harper didn’t see through her lie. She felt guilty enough for going behind Ethan’s back and lying to Harper, but she knew Ethan would be livid if anyone found out before he was ready. “I’ll let you know if we need anything. Thank you.”

“Any time, Olivia.”

Olivia turned and left Harper’s office. As she walked down the hall, Harper’s words rang in her mind.

Six to eight months without treatment, twelve to eighteen with treatment.

An involuntary shudder went through her. Whether to accept treatment or not would be Ethan’s decision, but she knew that Harper was right. Regardless of which decision Ethan made, whatever lay ahead would be excruciating.

In the hours that passed, she saw little of Ethan. Olivia tried to concentrate on her patients, pouring her focus onto her rounds and clinic duty. Still, nothing was enough to pull her attention away from Ethan’s diagnosis.

“Dr. Winchester? Did you hear me?”

Olivia startled, blinking and forcing an apologetic smile for their patient. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I didn’t. But you have my attention now.”

“Tyler was just telling us that the headache started suddenly in the past few days. He had a brief episode of blindness in one eye yesterday,” Tobias supplied, glancing at her curiously.

“Right.” Olivia nodded and flipped through the patient’s charts. “Your scans from Mass General all came back clear. “How long did the blindness last?”

“About six hours. I just said that.”

Olivia sighed. “I’m sorry. Migraines can cause pain localized to one side of the head and visual disturbances, but not total blindness. I think we should run another set of scans to make sure they didn’t miss anything at Mass General. If they come back clean, we’ll start with some labs.”

Their patient looked skeptical. “Is there really any point in doing more scans?”

“We have the best equipment on the market. It may catch something that they missed at the other hospital. Even if everything comes back normal, we don’t want to risk missing a tumor.”

“I guess so.”

Olivia nodded, relieved. “We’ll be back in a few minutes to get you prepped.” She closed the patient’s folder and quietly followed Tobias out of the room.

“You seemed a little distracted in there. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just have some stuff going on outside of work. I’ll be fine,” she lied, suspecting Tobias didn’t believe her even if he dropped the issue.

She didn’t see Ethan until the end of their shift. She found him in his office, his attention on his computer screen. “Hi.”

Ethan startled, looking up from the journal he’d been staring at until the words blurred. “Oh. There you are. Ready to go?”

“Yeah. What are you reading?” she asked as she shrugged out of her white coat and replaced it with her jacket.

Ethan hesitated for a long moment. “An article about the average prognosis for glioblastoma multiforme.”

“Oh.” The flat tone to his voice told her everything she needed to know about what he’d read. She fell silent, letting her gaze fall on him. “Ethan, I…”

“What is it?”

The confession rolled from her lips before she had a chance to think twice. “I… showed Harper your scans to get her opinion. She thinks it could be partially operable.”

Ethan’s expression faltered, his brow furrowing in anger. “You showed Harper my charts after I asked you not to?”

She didn’t know why, but Olivia felt her defenses go up. “I took your name off of them. As far as she knows, it’s one of my friends who reached out to me. I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t think we should just accept that there’s absolutely nothing we can do.”

Visibly frustrated, Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I said that I would tell people myself when I was ready. Getting a second opinion won’t change a thing.”

“But maybe it would give us some ideas. And it did. Harper described a treatment plan that she’s seen some success with. It’s… it’s not much, but it’s something.”

Ethan shook his head and let out a sigh. “With any course of action, the five-year-survival rate is still in the low single digits. I need time to decide what to do. I’m not making a decision based on false hope.”

Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Refusing to let them fall, Olivia hesitated before speaking again. “I know. But… just think about it. Please?”

Ethan didn’t react right away. After a moment, he nodded so faintly that she almost missed it. “I need some time to think.”

Olivia’s frown deepened when he handed her his car keys. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk. You can take my car home. I’ll be there later. Don’t be worried if I’m late.”

Her expression gave way to one of frustration. “How am I supposed to go home and not worry about you?”

“I don’t know,” Ethan sighed, refusing to meet her eyes. “But I’ll be home later. I need some time to myself.”

“Ethan, just-“ she stopped when he left the room without another word.

Tags, part 1

@princess-geek / @lapisreviewsstuff / @silverlitskies / @paulfwesley / @dr-brianna-casey-valentine / @choicesstanblog / @trappedinfandoms / @justanotherrookie / @bellcat2010 / @desmaranj / @lion-ess24 / @nooruleman / @caseyvalentineramsey / @xee-na / @edith-eggs1 /@oofchoices / @schnitzelbutterfingers / @tefigranger / @jlynn12273 / @laceandlula / @crazy-loca-blog / @somegdchoices / @forthebrokenheartedthings / @lilyvalentine / @parkerattano / @drramseysownsme / @misswhit12 / @drethanfreakingramsey / @juneiswriting / @macy-ray85 / @swimmingauthordreamerbonk / @myusualnerdyself / @siaramsey / @lucy-268 / @takemyopenheart / @queencarb

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #tw: death #death tw #cancer tw #tw: cancer

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aellynera · 3 years

Text

The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder.

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday.

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor.

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.”

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing.

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves.

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

“Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

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ruewrites · 3 years

Note

Hii! so i really love Dialuci and i wanted to request a fic about them. I like the 5 things + 1 thing trope but i saw that u already have a fic like that, so if you dont wanna use i understand, i just want a cute Dialuci fic bc they are adorable 💖

5 Times Diavolo Felt a Little Less Alone

AO3

Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 2005

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi Anon! I’m always down for 5+1 requests! I hope you like this! I’m still getting used to writing for this ship, but I had fun!

Diavolo’s fingers danced along the castle walls as he gazed at the fallen Morning Star. He was more than the prince could ever wish for, to ever hope for, and he was standing right there. Well, sitting. He’d met Lucifer before, but he’d never seen him this worn. It was understandable, but still.

Gripping his nerves, Diavolo decided to approach him once more. Lucifer’s eyes swept up towards the movement and the Prince suddenly was all too aware of his heart pounding away in his chest.

“May I take this seat?” he asked.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, then he nodded, “I suppose you can.”

He was a bit more eager than he’d like to admit at the ‘okay’. He wanted to turn the Devildom into a home for Lucifer and his brothers, to make them all feel comfortable. He wanted them to want to stay.

Lucifer regarded him oddly, almost as if he couldn’t make out Diavolo’s intentions. Which was fair by all means. Perhaps he wasn’t setting the most appropriate of moods, but he found himself giddy at the mere thought of sitting close to the Morning Star. Even if the circumstances that brought them together once more were grim, he was still happy that he got to see him again.

“Can I get you some tea?”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted something to calm Lucifer or his own nerves. He’d have Barbatos bring every type out that he could find. He wanted to give Lucifer the widest variety of options that he could. He wanted to give Lucifer anything that he could.

“I suppose that would be nice,” Lucifer seemed hesitant. It was understandable of course, but Diavolo was already summoning Barbatos. He was going to make the Devildom home for Lucifer.

***

Diavolo loved parties. They filled the castle up with people and laughter and music. Things Diavolo wished there had been more of as he was growing up. Even so, sometimes the parties still felt lonely. Others wouldn’t address him the same way they addressed each other. It made sense, he was the Devildom’s prince. They had to treat him with respect.

He could act like one of them.

But he couldn’t be one of them.

His fingers tightened around his glass.

“Lord Diavolo, are you quite alright?” Lucifer was staring at him. Lucifer’s attention was on him.

He forced a laugh and put his hand on his shoulder, “Of course! Why would I be anything other than okay?

Lucifer’s brow furrowed and his lip twitched. He didn’t believe a word that had just come out of Diavolo’s mouth. Lucifer was the eldest of his brothers and the one that kept them in line, he knew when he was being lied to.

But before he could get a word out, Diavolo was already spewing more words at him. “I mean, just look at everyone out there having a grand time! There’s nothing to be disappointed about when there’s so many smiling faces,” he said, “In fact, shouldn’t you be out there enjoying yourself too?”

Getting Diavolo to try to go back to their previous discussion would be like taking Cerberus to the vet. So Lucifer played along, for now.

“I don’t believe I will, I have a perfect vantage point of my brothers from here.”

“Vantage-?”

Diavolo glanced out to where Lucifer was nodding. The rest of the six were all in perfect view with a slight turn of the head. He shouldn’t be surprised, Lucifer always had to make sure his brothers were on his best behavior. Well, Diavolo didn’t necessarily think that Lucifer had to per say, it was something he just did.

“So if it’s quite alright with you, I think I’m content on staying right here.”

For the first time that night, Diavolo felt himself relax and offer a genuine smile, “Of course.”

***

He knew it was late, but come on. Diavolo tapped the back of his D.D.D. restlessly as he listened to the line ring. Sure he could send a text, but he just wanted to hear someone else’s voice for a moment. Just a moment. Then he would be content.

He was about to hang up and redial again when a tired voice came up on the other end of the line.

“Diavolo? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Part of him felt bad when he heard Lucifer yawn on the other end of the line, but his heart also leapt at the sound of his voice. Lucifer had a strange affect on him, and Diavolo was addicted to the sensation. It filled a void that rested deep within him, and he didn’t want that space to ever be vacant again.

“Ah, I apologize Lucifer. I just had something I wanted to tell you,” he stopped. Well, that phrase wasn’t completely a lie. He was sorry, but he didn’t have anything to say. “But it all seems to be slipping my mind right now.”

Silence flooded the other end of the line. A sigh entered his ear. “Diavolo- Send me a text when you remember then. You can always tell me to-”

“Wait.”

He could feel Lucifer hesitate. He could practically see the way his eyebrow raised, how his arms would fold if he wasn’t holding his D.D.D. He could feel the way he analyzed him, looking for the smallest bit of truth, the tiniest give away in his being. His words died at his lips, his normal forms of begging and pleading refused to come out.

He didn’t want to be alone.

Not right now.

Not ever.

“Please don’t go.”

His voice came out so small. It didn’t fit him. Normally his presence was powerful and captivating, but not he felt like the smallest breeze could blow him away. The ticking of his clock started to flood his mind, drawing out any other possible thought he could have had.

Time stretched out in odd ways Diavolo couldn’t comprehend, and there was only one thing that brought him back.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay on the line, just don’t mind if you hear snoring. Now, what do you want to tell me?”

***

“Oh Lucifer! Look at this!”

Humans had such odd little things, but they were also incredibly dear. Who would have thought about making tiny clothes for animals? Adorable!

Diavolo held up a small yellow raincoat and pushed it into Lucifer’s face, “You should see if you can get a big one for Cerberus.

“Cerberus will be fine without,” yet his eyes lingered on the small outfit for a moment too long. A smile cracked at his lips, “I do believe I know a certain chihuahua it might fit though.”

Lucifer chuckled to himself as Diavolo continued to gaze at the little treasures that decorated the walls. “Oh they even have little rain boots! It’s a shame they don’t have anything bigger. Human dogs are just so tiny. And they don’t have nearly enough heads. They’re still just as lovable though.”

His hands moved to the bones and a frown spread across his face, “These are hardly fit for a dog.”

“On that front I agree with you. Not bloody enough.”

“Not big enough.”

“And they hardly look study.”

“It would barely function as a toothpick!”

“And no meat either.”

“It’s sad really.”

“Trully.”

The human world was different from the Devildom, very different. Diavolo could honestly say he’d never experienced something quite like it before. Everytime he thought he had it figured out something new popped out from around the corner. What made the entire thing even more wonderful was having someone to share it with.

He peered at Lucifer from the corner of his eye. Before he knew what was happening, the warmth of Lucifer's lower back was pressed against his hand. Lucifer stiffened ever so slightly. Then his muscles relieved themselves of their tension.

The Demon Prince had someone to share his experiences with.

***

This was an ethereal experience. It wasn’t something he could take lightly. This was a sign of trust. This was so much bigger than him, and Diavolo wasn’t about to take it lightly. Lucifer’s naked back was to him, his blackened wings stretched out before him. Diavolo felt as if he could see every breath the Morning Star took, every heartbeat drowned out the ticking of the clock.

“Are you sure?” Diavolo wanted to give him one last chance to back out. This was something sacred and intimate, something that he knew must have Lucifer on edge.

Lucifer’s head nodded ever so slightly, “Just remember what I told you.”

Diavolo swore he could feel his hands shaking, anxiety curled around his stomach like a serpent the closer he came to the majestic sight before him. Then the soft silky texture brushed against his finger tips. He couldn’t help but admire them as he ran his fingers along their gradient.

Lucifer trusted him with this.

Lucifer wanted him to do this.

He could have teared up in that moment, He promised himself that he would forever hold this specific moment close to his heart.

Of course Lucifer’s wings wouldn’t preen themselves. “Tell me if I do anything wrong.”

Perhaps he’d gotten too close to Lucifer’s ear, maybe his breath had been a little too hot, maybe he shouldn’t have gazed at Lucifer’s reddening cheeks as long as he did. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. His right hand man trusted him. A man as wonderful and beautiful and radiant and intelligent as Lucifer trusted him. Diavolo was allowed into his life.

The room was dark, quiet, and safe.

Diavolo never wanted to share anything this intimate with anyone else.

***

The first thing Diavolo registered was how warm everything around him was and the fire softly crackling against the wall. Slowly his eyes peeled open and he sat up. After taking in his surroundings, he came to realize that he’d fallen asleep at his desk. Something quite unusual for him. He grabbed at the blanket around his shoulders as questions filled his brain.

“This is quite the role reversal isn’t it?”

Ah. Lucifer.

Diavolo hadn’t even noticed him.

A kiss was pressed against his cheek and a cup was set down onto the table. Spices immediately filled all of Diavolo’s senses flooding every corner of his head.

“Usually you’re the one doing things for me when I’ve been at my desk for too long, and now here we are.”

Diavolo brought the cup to his lips, enjoying the warmth against his skin, “It took so much for you to allow me to spoil you.”

“Not everyone in the world is as genuine as you Diavolo, and affection isn’t something I’ve been particularly used to.”

Lucifer’s hands soared over the desk as he started to organize various papers and documents. Honestly, at this point Lucifer was probably almost as skilled as Barbatos when it came to organizing Diavolo’s desk. Diavolo liked watching him work, it almost reminded him of a dance. Watching Lucifer was always a wonderful time, it was a treat. Perhaps domestic was the correct word.

“I believe you’ve told me before that there’s more comfortable places to relax than a desk.”

“Like plush chairs by the fireplace?”

“I do believe you mentioned those, yes,” Lucifer took his hand and helped him up, “Join me?”

Diavolo had gotten a taste of company all those years ago, and now he constantly lived in company. His old self would be envious of what he had now. As long as he had Lucifer he wouldn’t be lonely, he’d have warm nights and bright days. There would always be a reason to make a second cup of tea or to bring two plates to the study. His things would sit next to Lucifer’s, they could have long conversations or comforting silence, and the chair next to him would never be empty.

Finally Diavolo had someone to share his life with.

Finally life wouldn’t be lonely anymore.

#ruewrites #anon #request #anon request #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #diavolo x lucifer #dialuci #5+1 things #5+1 fic #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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saturatedboy · 3 years

Text

The paw of a Lion (Ethan!Winters x Karl!Heisenberg)

(Can be found on my AO3) Requests- Open

Chapter 5 is under the cut

The quiet babbling of the child was concealed by an aeroplane noise being broadcasted from the adult’s mouth. “Here comes the aeroplane,” Ethan had interpreted making an engine noise before moving the green plastic spoon with Rose’s favourite food around in front of her giggling face. Rose, following the movements of the spoon,

had opened her mouth wide in excitement, giggling when Ethan had placed the spoon into her mouth and watched as she clamped her mouth closed around it. Being careful, he slipped the spoon out of her mouth before grabbing a dirtied tissue beside him to dab away any spillage falling out her mouth. The father was silently thankful that his child wasn’t much of a fussy eater, only at the start she was until she realised that ‘hey I’m getting food’ crosses her mind.

Repeating this process whilst making funny faces to make his child laugh, Ethan had glanced at the clock just above the doorway to the hallway to see the time. “Hey Rosemary, how do you feel ‘bout seeing our neighbour. Hmm? You want to- it seems you do with that bright smile of yours.” He discarded the small bottle of baby food into the bin and threw the spoon into the sink before returning to his jumping daughter. Brushing his hand soothingly over her blonde head, he picked her up from under her arms and cradled her into his arms. “Time to get changed.” He spoke more to himself than his intrigued daughter as she stared up at him with her eyes filled with curiosity.

Heading up the stairs, Ethan took the time to think about the actions of the day. He had his tests done, as well as his daughter’s. Next thing he had spoken to two of his neighbours, one refusing to give up on thanking him and the other being quite quiet yet showing her gratitude through her doll. He even got her name which he will try his best to remember since he hadn’t got a clue when there next meeting will be. Then things went slightly downhill but at soon rose when he had been pushed into Heisenberg’s shenanigans. Who knew the Lord was suffering from some memories- maybe he shouldn’t be so harsh on him? He still functions like a human, just has some ‘upgrades’ to him. But, don’t they all.

Pushing open the door to his room, Ethan laid his daughter down on the double bed within his room and moved towards the set of drawers that held a television. Luckily, he was allowed signal to television programmes (even though there were only 2 he was allowed to reach). A sudden image of Lady Dimitrescu watching the child programme crossed his mind, letting him push out a dry chuckle. “I should maybe go see them soon. Maybe the daughters would like to play with Rose?” Looking back at his daughter seeing her move the fabric under her fingers drew a loving smile from the father. “Yeah, they’ll be curious about you alright.” Dragging out a plain white shirt from his drawers, Ethan threw his blue one off and replaced the white one onto his body. Fastening the buttons, he looked over at the body mirror that stood by his wardrobe on the other side of the room near the door to the bathroom and hummed. “Rosemary, talk for tie or stay silent for no tie.” The child looked at her talkative father and clapped, babbling words in her on language. Ethan took the sign and walked back over to the drawer, rummaging through the top ones for a black and blue tie. Taking the black one, he wrapped it around his neck and left it hanging untied.

Dropping down, he opened the bottom drawers to bring a pair of dark grey pants out and a black belt out. “Be right back Rosemary,” Ethan had walked towards the bathroom and left the door open slightly so he could still hear his daughter. He was quick to swap pants, walking out the bathroom whilst buckling his belt up through the pants loops and starting on his tie. Having her father walking around a lot had the baby giggling. Shooting Rose a funny face with his tongue stuck out, Ethan watches her roll about of the bed with her eyes lighting up from the sun glistening through the window. “I look like I’m about to go on a date,” He gave himself one last look in the body mirror before returning back to his daughter, gently picking her up as he let her fiddle with his tie.

His last sentence had been jumbling in his mind as he ascended down his steps to grab his shoes. A date? No no, this wasn’t a date. Just a get together as an apology. That’s it! An apology meal made by Heisenberg and himself. With Rosemary. Like a famil-

A sudden tightness wrapped around his throat as Rose pulled on his tie hard. A small choking noise came out from him as his face scrunched up. With his eyes going slightly wide in pain and shock, he helped his daughter release the tie from her tough grasp and placed her on the ground as he scanned over his shoe choices. Going in simple trainers wouldn’t do- it would look weird with his outfit. But going in smart shoes, that’s what you would wear on a date and this was NOT a date. Taking his trainers, Ethan tied the laces into sloppy bows and picked up Rosemary after, being wary of her grabby hands.

Looking himself up and down then looking at his pride and joy, something seemed off. Missing. “Urgh don’t do this brain. Now what’s missing?” Looking between the two, Ethan felt Rose once again grab his tie. “You’re so grabby today, what’s going on, oh. Right.” Priding her hands off him once again, Ethan made his way to the lounge room and looked at the couch. There was a stuff monkey there sitting next to the television remote. “Ah ha! Do you want him? yeah you do. That’s why you’ve been grabbing papa the whole time.” Ethan progressed onto the stuff animal and grabbed it by its body, handing it to his little Rose who was about to reach for his tie again. Seeing her favourite teddy dangling in front of her face, she had her hands reaching out for it and her mind went completely away from the strange material that she was once holding before. A sense of relief washed over the blonde before handing it to her, seeing her face light up with enjoyment. “Time to head to a meal now. Hopefully it doesn’t turn out wrong” He kissed the top of her head and walked out the room into the hallway once again.

It had been two days since getting back to a somewhat normal life. To think these were the entities he was once trying to kill, them doing the same Vise-versa all because of Mother Miranda. “She’s dead,” A whisper came from him as he approached the door handle to the outside world. “We are out from there.” Twisting the metal knob, the sudden darkness of the outside world was glazing his eyes. Dark clouds swarmed the sky, the sun setting behind them fearing the uprising moon and their army of stars. Looking around as the door shut behind the males, he walked off his porch. The crisp cold swept over his body, making him slightly regret not bringing a jacket with him. However, that didn't matter, his daughter was luckily wrapped up in a long shirt and a really woolly jumper gifted from her mother. She was settled all in warmth.

Taking the left on the dirt road, he followed it around the circle going clock-wise. The house of Heisenberg had gradually grown larger in size as he gained closeness upon it. An unsettling feeling set into Ethan’s stomach as he remembered seeing the boarded-up windows- which were still boarded up at the time. The garage next to it seemed to be closed although the smell of car petrol did not go unnoticed. Holding his daughter closer to himself in one arm, Ethan stepped up to the two floored house and walked straight to the door. Looking to see if his daughter was uncomfortable, which she wasn’t luckily, he raised a first and knocked against the spruce door with a small horse engraving on it. ‘Huh, strange’ Ethan thought, letting his fingers trail over in engraving after knocking three times. ‘How strange, I have a lion engraving on mine.’-

His thoughts and finger trailing were pulled away from the door as it had swung open, revealing the scuffed-up host of the dinner wearing a tank top that had turned grey with splotches of grime and rust. He had a sizzling cigar in his mouth and an annoyed expression on his face for all eyes to see because of the lack of a hat and shades he would usually wear. Soon however, from not seeing his ‘sisters’ dress, he took a step back and tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. “Erm,” Heisenberg was the first to make a sound. He took a quick look at Ethan, seeing as his white shit he wore nestled nicely against his forearms and his pants highlighted his legs and calf muscles. “T-Totally didn’t...forget?” The cigar that was hanging in his mouth had dropped onto the floor, seeing the other dressed in a formality way.

Biting his lower lip straining a smile, Ethan had struggled to hold in his laughter as he watched the others eyes move about to not stare directly at him. Hunching over being wary of Rose, Ethan let his laughter loose feeling excitement bubble up in his stomach. “You kno-haha. You know,” He spoke, finding it harder to keep his laughter contain to sensible giggle, “I wouldn’t have expected this.” He made a motion with his free arm, the arm moving up and down as though he was presenting Heisenberg to his daughter.

Feeling embarrassed at the given situation, Heisenberg went to protest. “Well- it was shot notice, okay? I’ve been busy and today has been long.” The Ex-Lord defended, biting the inside of his cheek as he glared at the father who had finally loosen his laugh to a soft chuckle. Nodding, not trusting his mouth anymore, Ethan silently agreed at what the Lord was getting at.

“Yes. Yes. You’re quite right. However, it was you who asked for me to come over.” A sigh left Karl’s lips; his shoulders deflated as though a bubble of tense had just been popped within his blades.

“Alright, c’mon. Come in- I need to go wash up.” Moving to the side, Karl let Ethan in along with his little Rose looking around at her new surroundings. From what Ethan could tell as he heard Karl shut the door behind him, the place was rather fitting for Karl’s aesthetic. Unlike his, Karl’s first floor was fully open. However, it seemed the structure was the same, just without the walls. The floor was made from spruce wood, with the four walls being painted in a forest green. He had a love seat along with a couple of arm chairs that surrounded a coffee table with a television in front. Ethan guessed Karl had no idea how to use his television seemingly there was ‘CAUTION’ tape wrapped around it. Pinned on the walls however, there were many tapestries, all different colours and images printed on them. He was surprised he couldn't smell any sort of chemicals in the air, meaning the shorter one was most likely spending all his time in the garage rather than the actual home itself.

“Your place is surprisingly comforting.” Ethan had turned to only just see Karl walking up the steps to the second floor. With a shrug, Karl leaned over the handrail.

“Eh? Tis alright I suppose. Much prefer my factory but it is what it is. Be down in a few.” He called before ascending up the stairs leaving Rose with his little Rose to scout around the room. It was a comfortable temperature, not to cold, not to warm. Being careful, Ethan placed Rose on the floor seeing that there weren’t any hazards about and let her crawl on her hands and knees.

“One day you’ll start walking and I’m going to lose you,” Ethan spoke, watching his daughter fondly as she took off in a sprint crawl away from her father. “Hey, where are you going,” He called out, chasing her as she wondered about thinking her father was chasing her because they were playing a game.

Up on the second floor, Heisenberg had entered the shower fully striped. Letting the water run down his body, he leaned against the wall pointing his head down. “Fuck,” He whispered, dragging a hand down his face. He felt like a complete douche for letting the night slip his mind. Here he was, with Ethan fucking Winters downstairs, as well as his daughter with him. Karl wasn’t even ready for this, everything felt like it was moving too quickly- “What am I thinking,” He breathed out heavily.

Ethan wasn’t his- they couldn’t be moving too quickly with anything. They weren't dating, and that thought hit Karl like a compressor. Grabbing the shampoo, he squirted it into his palm and lathered it up in his palm before scrubbing his scalp hard with it. A soft groan was released from his throat as he hit a certain spot with his fingers coming tangled in the knot of his hair. Pulling hard, a soft pant of a moan left his lips, forcing him to lean back up and crane his neck back. He felt exposed to the cold air, before untangling his fingers from his mess of a hair and tilting his head back under the running water to get rid of the shampoo quickly. He didn’t want to leave Ethan waiting too long.

Going against the idea of using conditioner, He grabbed the body wash after squeezed it into his hands. Throwing the bottle down, he ran his hands over his body harshly. The feeling of his thick hands running over his own chest down to his happy tail had no right t be as exciting as it was. He didn’t understand, was it because Ethan was downstairs? Did he want Ethan to catch him like this? Impurity thoughts channelled through his mind, leaving him in a panting mess. A sudden grasp came to his dick below, making him second guess his fantasies flashing through his mind. Looking down, he saw his hand grasping his dick, the hand moving down to reveal the flushed red head begging for attention. He was uncut, both at the top of his dick and around his lower regions. He didn’t have time to shave, or even find a doctor to circumcise himself. Why should he? He didn’t have a reason to.

Letting go, he watched the skin cover the needy head before going back to washing his body. This was not the time to be getting hard whilst his main guest was downstairs with his little one for the matter. Maybe at a later stage he would do the unimaginable when alone but not when he had guests. Karl knew better than to go ahead and jerk himself off whilst people were about, he learnt that the hard way when being caught by one of his Soldats in the past. Scary time. Ones he prefers to not remember.

Making sure his whole body was clean, he rinsed off the bubbles and turned the shower off. The coldness of his home hit him; he wasn’t use to the temperature just yet. His factory had always been boiling, he loved the feeling of the heat trapping him. He missed the place already- it hadn’t even been 3 days since he last saw it. Wrapping a towel securely around his waist, he left his bathroom not bothering to pick up the dirty clothing he had worn previously and walked towards his bedroom that was very clean. He hadn’t slept there; no he was too busy in the garage part of his hoe. The place was somewhat a safe space already- he felt a little at home there. His bed was untouched, the floor being free of any dirty clothing. Looking about, he walked towards his drawers and opened them up to see a collection of shirts and pants. Grabbing the first things he saw; he unwrapped his towel and let it drop. He didn’t really think much about drying his body fully before pulling the shirt on. It was a brown shirt and dark blue dress pants. Fastening the buttons up on the shirt, he rolled the sleeves to rest just above his elbows and dragged the pants on, finding a bit difficult to pull all the way up. However once up, they fit fine upon his waist. The feeling of wearing something much different to his usual attire was- awkward. He felt like he was about to go to Lady Dimitrescu wedding or something, although he would go in the most unkempt clothing to annoy her. But he had to, he saw how Ethan was dressed. He was well kept, nothing like Karl. Ethan was just-

Ethan was the most perfect creation ever to be created.

“You’re going to look hot for Ethan,” The encouraging words to himself helped him a little to feel safer in the clothing he chosen. He just wouldn’t expect to ever be dressed like this but here he was, prancing around his room thinking about the possibilities that could happen in the next couple of hours. Downstairs he could hear the laughter of Ethan once again accompanied by Rose’s happy cries.

“Huh, this feels like a family moment,” He chuckled to himself as he began to walk away from the bedroom. To hear noise filling the place that wasn’t the dead, but rather people who were alive- this was the closest Karl had ever felt to be a part of a family. The word brought a strained smile to his face. A family. Him and Ethan, and with the little brat to be a family. “Bad Heisenberg, no thinking about shit like that,” He scolded himself before descending this time down the stairs to overlook at Ethan on his knees who were making what seemed to be a toy in his hands, dance for his daughter. “Seem to be enjoying yourself there Ethan,” He spoke, rounding off at the end of the stairs to walk towards the father and daughter who were in the middle of the whole room.

Ethan gave Rose the toy and stood back up, dusting dust off his pants. “And you seem to be having fun dressing up for me, is it?” The teasing tone in his voice did not go unnoticed by the former Lord, a smirk rising onto his features. A deadly glare casting through directed towards the father.

“I could say the same for you darlin’. Even went with a tie. how cute.”

“Alright mister, you got me there. So, what you thinking about cooking good looking?”

“Well, I was- w-what?” The rhyme from Ethan’s words had made Heisenberg feel warm. A fluttering feeling casted over his whole body as he stood in front of Ethan, little Rose between both of their feet. Although he was sure Ethan was just teasing, his words felt real to hear.

“I didn’t say anything, so what we doing,” the words fell quickly from Ethan’s throat, an embarrassed look invading his face as he crossed his arms and tried to give a smug smile to play his words off.

“Yeahhhh, sureee.” Heisenberg watched the pale skin of Ethan's become influenced by a red shade, his nose slightly flaring. Grabbing hold of his shoulder, Heisenberg turned Ethan around and walked towards where the open kitchen was, being careful to not trip over the baby on the floor. ”So if I’m good lookin’, what does that make you buttercup?”

Ethan shook his head disapprovingly, looking at Karl with a raised brow. “It slipped out; nothing was meant by it.”

“Oh, but sweetheart, did it really though~”

“What are we cooking Karl?” Ethan had pretended to not hear any of the nicknames that came from his host- he didn’t want to show any reaction towards them no matter how much a daring grin wanted to be stretched onto his lips. He had to remind himself he only just divorced his ex-wife. He didn’t want to date and neither did he want to feel any sort of attraction towards his own former killers...but was Karl really a former killer- he did try to help him? That was for another time.

“You’ll come aroun’ one day. I don’t know what to make.” Karl leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Ethan’s facial features change every second, clearly not knowing what emotion he should really be showing at his words. ”You what?” He choked out, sticking with a dumbfounded look.

Karl threw his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know how to cook. I lived of cans Ethan, and coffee. It was either cans, or Duke for me.”

The air between them both became unknowingly colder. Ethan had to give himself a few moments to think. He did feel bad at what Karl just told him, to be living off a one-way ticket for meals or risk getting ill. The man in front of him really didn’t know anything about the outside world. “Okay, luckily I do know how to make food.”

“Like a house wife.” Karl piped up, running a hand threw his wet hair as it dripped water upon his shoulders wearing that sharp grin of his.

“I’m not a house wife Heisenberg.” Ethan began to search through the small fridge that was under one of the few counters in Karl’s kitchen. Looking through, he began to make a mental note to get the Lord to join him on a shopping trip to get food. Clearly the agents had spent more money on building fancy places rather than getting things for survival.

“Damn, back to last names huh? I must really be in trouble with you mister.” Suddenly, a flying tomato came flying at him and hit him in his head. “hey! That was uncalled for.” He spoke just barely managing to catch the vegetable as it bounced off his head. In return, Ethan shrugged and continued to rummaged through his fridge picking out certain items. Karl stood and watched, not complaining about the side view he was getting of Ethan down on his knees-

“Where do you keep your spices?” He asked a she stood back up, shutting the fridge with his foot and looking back to quickly check on Rose.

“Cupboard above you.” Karl answered back, also looking at the baby who was smashing the toy monkey onto the floor. Karl had to sniffle his laughter back, slightly proud of the baby’s destruction.

With a quick bang of the cupboard, Ethan had pushed all the items he got out towards Karl. Leaving them by the shorter one, he went to o wash his hands in the sink. “Karl, can you grab a baking tray, grater and rolling pin” Ethan asked as he wiped his hands down on a towel.

“Ethan, have you forgot I don’t cook?”

“Rolling pin looking like a cylinder, grater looks like-” Karl had begun to laugh at Ethan reciting and describing what kitchen equipment looks like. Banging a closed fist onto his chest, Karl swept stray hairs from out of his face.

“Ethan I’m joking.” Before Ethan could even get annoyed at Karl, Karl had already started to move about the area with a happy jump in his step, glad that Ethan was slightly annoyed at his actions. He loved getting a rise out of the other, it just added on the things he loved-

Loved...yeah. He was in love with Ethan. He wasn’t going to complain against that.

“So, what we making papa?” Heisenberg asked, looking at the ingredients all laid out by all the cutlery he was sent on a quest to gather.

“We are making pizza.” Ethan answered back, already starting on making the pizza sauce from scratch.

“Pizza huh?” Karl ponded out loud, watching as Ethan began to use the grater and great cheese.

“Yes. You can start rolling out the pastry if you want. Grab the rolling pin and use the flour to make sure the pastry doesn’t stick to the counter top.” Giving a playful salute to Ethan, who rolled his eyes out and gave a soft kick to the others leg, Karl stood by Ethan and sprinkled flour on top of the counter. Clapping his hands by Ethan to watch the flour dust go poof in his face, Karl was already moving onto laying out the pastry from its packet on top of the flour.

He was given a sharp pain on his ear as he looked quickly at his attacker with furrowed brows. Ethan had flicked the man on his ear shell and stuck his tongue out like a child. Karl’s ear had swiftly turned red but it didn’t bother the lord much really, it only made him eager to try tease the other. “Gotta try harder sweetheart,” Karl spoke to him, rolling the pastry out and flipping it every now and again.

“Nah no can do. I can’t hurt you.” Ethan called back, moving the cheese and grated away from him before grabbing the baking tray and laying out parchment paper on it. Karl gave a scoff at Ethan's words, stepping away from the pastry and instead standing behind Ethan. Like a snake, Karl wrapped his arms around Ethan’s torso and stood on his tiptoes to look over Ethan’s shoulder.

“You can’t hurt me~” He whispered in his ear, tightening his grip on the father’s torso. In return, Ethan swallowed a lump in his throat and turned, flicking Karl on his nose. The pinch of pain made Karl recall backwards and rub his nose.

“I think I just did. Oops.” Ethan turned back around and picked up the pastry to lay out on the tray. “Want to grab a spoon?” He called behind him, waiting for a response as he worked on stretching the pastry in the tray.

Thinking for a moment, Karl went back to leaning against the counter with his arms crossed right bedside Ethan. “What’s in it for me?” He asked, as he simpered looking pleased with himself.

A ragged sigh came from Ethan’s mouth as he turned and copied Karl’s actions by leaning against the counter. However, he didn’t cross his arms. “How about, you get me the spoon and you’ll get a reward.”

“What is this...reward?” Karl leaned to the side, getting closer towards Ethan’s face. The hesitation from the other left plenty of time for Karl to come up with a total of 6 different ways he could be rewarded for getting cutlery- and none was safe for Rose to hear.

Wetting his lips, Ethan smacked his lips together before speaking slowly and a notch deeper than his usual tone. “The reward will be...a day shopping with me.” And all previous ideas flew out of his head. Karl pulled away from Ethan and pouted.

“That sounds shit.” He spoke, becoming grumpy over the fact of shopping. He had seen Villagers do it in the past, buying things. It just looked, none eventful.

“That’s not all.” Ethan held back a grin as he watched Karl become curious again. “I’ll let you hold my hand the whole day.”

“DEAL!” Ethan watched as Karl sprinted off to a drawer and opened it up, grabbing a large spoon and skipping back to Ethan with it in his hand proudly. “Better keep to your side of the deal now papa. Don’t you be forgetting it.”

“I won't forget- I don’t even think you would let me especially with the way you just acted.” Just to hopefully annoy the Lord, Ethan got him in a headlock and with his knuckled, rubbed them against the top of Karl’s head watching him squirm in his grasp.

“Oh C’MON!” He shouted, pushing out of Ethan’s grip and showing him away. Ethan finally let loose of is laugh and grabbed the counter for support. The sight of Ethan being happy made Karl soft. It was a fuzzy feeling with him. ‘Butterflies...that’s what this is’ he thought trying his best to sketch the view into his mind forever.

“Okay! okay,” Ethan wheezed out, “Back to making the pizza.”

#Karl Heisenberg #karlheisenberg #karl hesienberg #ethan x karl #Lord Karl Heisenberg #ethan winters #ethan x heisenberg #karl heisenberg x ethan winters #resident evil 8 #winters x heisenberg

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