#obey me he snaps one shot

[sparkbeast20]

I associate you with your “he snaps” series! I really enjoyed all the stories in that one 💕

Aw~ one of my Favorite (that series) :D

So, each fic was made from Halloween right? But did you know that most of them were reuse ideas for my Blue lotus series.

Beel's story was suppose to be him and MC going to a trip with his Fangol team. But suddenly most of the team start acting strange and soon so as Beel. It was follow MC in the woods surviving the week while Beel and his team hunt them down.

Or Belphie's story was suppose to be him asking for help from his demon who is against the program because he made a mistake with a spell that cause MC be in a coma like state.

(From this asking game)

#spark's answer #hi karo :3 #obey me #omswd #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me he snaps one shot #obey me asks

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??

a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3

Part 2 ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.

Gods, your head hurt. 

A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head. 

“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”

You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake. 

You took a pause. 

And then another. 

Who was the last person you had seen? 

“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar. 

The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.” 

“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?” 

“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.” 

“Witches?” 

“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?” 

The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about. 

Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?” 

Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone. 

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck. 

“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?” 

Another lapse in silence. 

“My Gods…” 

Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes. 

But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop. 

You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.

“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle. 

“Azriel, she—” 

“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in. 

There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in. 

You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them. 

You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to. 

“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed. 

Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.” 

Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head. 

Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you. 

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”  

“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.” 

His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.

That wasn’t right. None of this felt right. 

The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right. 

Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering. 

It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out. 

Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets. 

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline. 

“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.” 

It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand. 

But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them. 

Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?” 

You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud. 

“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.” 

Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.

The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.” 

“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness. 

“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.” 

A twig snapped beneath a boot.

Azriel growled low in his chest. 

The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused. 

You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this. 

“Stay away from her.” 

“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.” 

A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.” 

Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain. 

Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.

Part 2 ♡

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel angst

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.

“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.

“What is it, B?”

“Drills. Again.”

Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.

It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.

Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.

Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of

“B.”

“Hm.”

Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.

“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.

“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.

“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”

“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.

The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.

“You have a direct line to Gotham?”

Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”

A beat of silence.

Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.

“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Hm.”

“That means you’re done, too.”

“I’m not tired.”

Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.

“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”

Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.

Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.

He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.

“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”

“Not necessary.”

“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.

“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”

Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.

“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”

And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.

——

“Go home.”

Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.

“Sleep, before I make you.”

Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.

As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”

He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.

Alfred snapped a quick picture.

#Tim Drake #Tim Drake as Robin #dc x dp #batman #danny phantom #danny phantom is tim drake #danny phantom is a little shit #sassy danny #Bruce Wayne #bruce wayne getting bullied into self care #depressed Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Gotham!Danny #danny is a menace #the cave has a shower #Bruce is using the hosing down station #like the ones in labs #for safety? but Bruce is using it because it’s a quick rinse

[miniwheat77]

Nasty. (Mean!König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, König being a big meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight dub con, poorly translated German, this is short forgive me, (sorry if I missed any.)

Your nerves are completely shot as you stand in a line. You don’t know why, but he’s so so mean. So mean. He hates you for some reason. Absolutely hates you.

You’re lined up with other Sergeants, waiting nervously as Colonel König passes each of you. “Y/L/N, 50 push ups. im Augenblick.”

You know better than to argue, so you drop to the floor, beginning to do your push ups. Trying not to cry. You wish you could just know why he’s so mean to you. You just didn’t understand, you’d never done anything. You were always kind to him. Always obeyed him. When you finish your push ups, he’s excused everyone else and he’s watching you intently. “Colonel.” You ask, out of breath. He looks at you. “Can I ask why you gave me 50 push ups?” He stands there, eyes dark as he stares upon you.

“50 more.” He breathes. “Now.” A sigh leaves your lips and you obey him, dropping down to your knees again and propping yourself up. “When you’re finished you can go to bed.” He breathes. You choose to ignore him, tired of the way he’s treating you. He walks away down the hallway, but watches to make sure you actually finish your push ups. You do. He smirks to himself. You stand up when you finish and walk down the hallway to your room. You don’t understand.

A couple days later, you wait patiently for an order. You’ve been burned out completely, he’s making you run laps around the base and your eyes are burning from the sweat dripping down your face. The sun is beating down on you and he won’t let you stop for anything. He disappeared a while ago and you haven’t seen him. Your vision starts to blur, and you look confused. Legs slowing to a stop against your will. You start to see other colors, brighter colors filling your vision. That’s all you remember.

König forgot. He went inside for a second and he was going to head back out to relieve you but he got distracted. He’s sitting in his office when he hears yelling, and stands up to peek outside. Curious what the commotion is. He sees another Sergeant bursting through the door carrying you, and his stomach falls. “I need a medic!” He calls. Others flood the hallway and a medic appears. They’re rushing you back to the infirmary. “What’s going on?” She asks. “I don’t know, I found her outside passed out.”

She sighs. “She’s having a heat stroke, we need to cool her temperature down.” König walks away from the infirmary. He knows he’s a little extreme sometimes.

—

“My office, now.” His stern voice sends chills up your spine. You follow after him.

He closes the door behind you and walks around you, staring you down. “I said 50 push ups.” He crosses his arms. “I will do them, but I want to know why first.” You breath. He mumbles something under his breath in German, you don’t hear him. “Now.” He breathes. “No.” You breathe. “I deserve to know why.” He let’s out a deep chuckle and you know you’re digging yourself a hole, but you’re tired of this. “You listen to me, girl.” He growls. “I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t have to tell you why. I say jump, you fucking jump.” He growls. “dummes Mädchen.” He growls. You know what he’s just said. “Fuck you.” You growl. His eyes snap to you, wide. He’s pissed. In one second, he’s got you slammed up against a wall. Hand around your throat. He’s watching you turn a shade of red. “Fine. You want to fucking disobey me?” He breathes. You can feel his spit particles landing on your face. He’s seething. “Ich zeige dir, was ich mit bösen Mädchen mache.” He growls, he lets go of your throat and spins you around. Forcing you down onto his desk.

Your eyes widen as he tears your cargo pants down your legs, forcing them down. What is this? Why is he reacting like this? You feel the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance and in one hard thrust, he forces his cock into you and a gasp gets stuck in your throat as he starts to thrust himself into you. He’s stretching you and it hurts. Tears prick your eyes at the intrusion, a cry leaving your lips.

Luckily your body gets used to him. Your hands clutch his desk and he groans out. Hands holding your hips in a death grip, sure to leave bruises in their wake. His belt rattles violently with each of his brutal thrusts, the massive man makes you look small. Watching the way your pussy stretches around his massive cock has his eyes rolling back. You’re quiet for a while, but his thrusts halt immediately when a moan leaves your lips. He spins you around, pupils blown out. He can’t believe his ears. “Do you like this?” He asks. You’re leaning up against his desk, body exposed to his judgmental eyes. You stay quiet which earns a sharp slap to your cheek. You nod your head shyly. He grasps your thighs, forcing you back onto his desk again, returning his cock to your weepy hole. He thrusts in again and you cry out. “Ah! König please- slower please-“ you whimper. “You can take it, we both know you can.” He growls. He squeezes your breasts too hard and you whimper out, he’s so mean. “You like when I’m mean to you, dumme Hure” he growls. “You like when I bully your slutty pussy. I know how wet you get for me when I’m mean to you. You like it. So take it. Nimm mich, du verdammte Schlampe”

A cry leaves your lips as he bullies your cunt. Thrusting into you hard, not giving you anytime to adjust to him or his massive size. His desk is sliding across the floor with a violent screech, it doesn’t phase him. Not even a little bit. His groans that he’s letting out, they’re something different. You’ve never heard him being pleasured before, only angry at you. Maybe this is how you could make him happier. Maybe this is how you fix him being mean to you. You’ve got a death grip on his desk, his cock is pushing into your cervix and it’s too much. Bordering uncomfortable but you don’t dare tell him that. You keep your legs open for him, letting him use you. His moans are getting a little more desperate. Whimpers almost. “Oh fuck, so tight.” He gasps. He pushes one of your legs up a little higher, cock sliding even further into you. How on earth you were handling him was beyond you. You can’t help as your eyes start to water, tears beginning to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his massive cock. He’s overwhelming you. You can’t help it. “König?” You ask. “What?” He growls, “can I cum?” You whimper. You can see the way the small wrinkles around his eyes form, he’s smiling. “Now that’s a good girl, asking for permission.” He breathes. “Just a little longer.” He breathes.

You’re right on the edge. He’s pushing you over it quickly and you don’t know if you can hold on. “Ich sagte, warte”

You nod your head eagerly and he’s smiling down at you again. His cock twitches slightly and he’s about to cum. “Cum now, Liebling” he mumbles. You fall apart completely beneath him. Thighs shaking, body shivering. Chills arising on your skin. Your eyes roll back and you’re sucked into another dimension for a minute. The sound of him panting is bringing you back down to earth. He slides out of you and you let out a gasp. Realizing what’s just happened, he’s cum in you. Your eyes widen slightly. Worry filling you up.

“Get dressed and go clean up.” He orders. You nod your head, obeying him immediately.

The feeling that settles into your chest, sadness. Because no matter how much you offered your body up for him. Your holes, he was always just going to be mean.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig imagine #könig modern warfare #könig x you #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #könig cod #könig smut

[justalittleficsideblog]

Not so Rough!

Obey me boys x fem!reader

synopsis: after a rather hectic night, the boys misunderstand a situation between you and Mammon. oh well... right?

a/n: I have had this in my brain for like two weeks now lmao, just a funny situation i thought of!

ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ

You rolled out your shoulders as you stepped into the dining room, wincing as you stepped down towards the table. You observed the brothers setting their table, Beel anxiously waiting for food while his other half dozed off in the chair.

“Late night at the restaurant, love?” Asmo cooed, his head tilted to the side as he gave you a once over.

You nodded, every muscle groaning in protest as you slid into the chair. You flinched as you felt your legs relax, wearily stretching them out. You sucked in a breath through your teeth as you felt one of your calves ripple.

Your back felt sore too, thanks to someone’s greedy fingers after your late shift.

“Mammon didn’t go easy on me afterwards either,” you rolled your eyes, catching a glimpse of said offender striding into the room. He was looking better than you were, damn demon blood.

“Hey! You said you wanted it deep, not my fault,” he scoffed, sliding down onto his chair across from you.

You heard a cough. Satan cleared his throat, pushing aside his tea that was in front of him.

“Yes! Deep not so rough. My body feels like it’s been brutalized.” You yawned, attempting to stretch out your back as you swung your hands over your head.

A clang from the kitchen snapped you out of your daze. Levi sure was clumsy on kitchen duty today.

Asmo was smiling in your direction, his head resting on his newly manicured nails.

“Darling, was my brother here harsh on your delicate frame after your grueling shift?” he pouted. You now noticed Belphie was wide awake, him and Beel gaping towards you.

You ran a hand through your hair. “Ugh, yes. I was already tense and sore from being on my feet all night. But he,” you pointed an accusatory finger. “—insisted on “helping me out” even though I said no—”

You made air quotations while sticking your tongue out at him.

“Mammon!” you jumped as Satan boomed out near you.

“I cannot believe this, to think you would take advantage of her!” he seethed, fingers gripping the table as he stood.

“Woah! Hey! I wasn’t takin’ advantage of anyone!” Mammon yelped, hands thrown up in defense. “I just thought I could help ‘er relax, is all!”

Asmo snorted into his drink, “Not much relaxing you could be doing.”

“What did you say?”

You noticed the brothers were bickering to each other, making pointed comments towards Mammon more than anything. The kitchen had gone oddly quiet…. When was breakfast coming? You were starving.

“Listen love,” Asmo purred, grasping your hand in his. “I would be much gentler to you than this brute.”

“Hey! Who’re you calling a brute?!”

“Well… you did have a hard time letting me go,” you shot a pointed look towards Mammon, rubbing a sore spot on your shoulder absentmindedly.

“It’s not my fault you kept squirming!” he huffed, kicking his legs up onto the table.

“Well yeah! It freakin’ hurt!” you tossed back at him.

“enough.”

You could’ve sworn the room dropped several degrees with the way everyone shivered. Goosebumps rose across your arms as you took a figurative glance towards the eldest.

His aura was damning, ominous fingertips tap tap tapping across the table.

“Mammon,” his eyes cut to yours. “MC.”

His eyes were slits, wings splayed widely as he leaned backwards into his chair, “I cannot control you as much as I would like. But please do refrain from discussing your intimate interactions at the dinner table.”

You froze.

Wait…. WHAT?

“Intimate…. Lucifer, what in the fresh hell are you talking about?”

Even Mammon looked puzzled, eyes searching his brothers for an answer. Belphie sighed, rolling his head back as he murmured something to Beel, who looked slightly alarmed when his eyes shot up to meet your own.

Satan now was sitting back down, a blank stare towards the table was his only response.

Lucifer himself pinched his nose, irritation rising.

“oh… my god.” The realization of what you and Mammon had been arguing back and forth about finally surfaced. They didn’t think you really meant… that right??

You buried your face into your hands, face flaming in embarrassment. “We didn’t do… that. My shoulders and feet were killing me from carrying those damn heavy trays and walking around so much. Mammon felt bad so he offered to rub out the knots in my shoulders and feet.”

He shrugged, “But you were so tense! I really had to work out your muscle—”

Asmo let out a cackle, incredibly amused by everyone’s astonished faces.

“So that’s how it is,” Beel chirped, returning to snacking on some sort of devildom fruit in front of him.

Seriously, what was taking the food so long…?

Lucifer let out an extended sigh, looking almost. What, relieved?

Now it was Mammon’s turn to catch up, realizing the situation while everyone was staring at him in amusement.

“N-no! o-of course it wasn’t anything like that…” he sunk deeper into his chair, head tilted down in embarrassment.

You couldn’t help but giggle. What an interesting conversation to start of the morning.

Both yours and Beel’s stomach gurgled, indicating it was getting past time to be fed.

“I’ll go check on Levi,” you stood. “I’m surprised he wasn’t freaking out over this conversation.”

You walked towards the kitchen, pushing the door open further as you searched for a familiar blue-haired male.

“Levi—oh shit!!”

There, among the flour and pans, laid Levi. Passed out.

“Oh dear,” Asmo sighed as he leaned against the door frame. “The shock probably got him.”

You groaned, stepping over him to get breakfast started.

#obey me x reader #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #pls i have had this in my brain for so long #i hope yall are fed <3 i will be working on requests soon!

[thebellearchives]

𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒

~ solomon ; obey me [nightbringer]

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : after another tiring day with the brothers you go back into your boyfriend’s arms

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, stablished relationship, self indulgent fluff and comfort, absolutely clean of nightbringer spoilers!

‧₊˚ a / n : another Sol fic because i’m obsessed with him 🖤

Exhausted, you followed Lucifer towards the foyer. Despite the deafening silence between the both of you, you noticed he shot you some concerned glances once in a while. You loved the brothers, you really did, but turned out their antics used to be even worse in the past than what they were in your time, much to your surprise. You could feel your eyelids growing heavier, and your mind shutting down while your legs continued to carry you outside of the mansion.

“Solomon” Lucifer’s greeting snapped you back awake, and your eyes found your sorcerer boyfriend just entering the mansion.

“Oh, you’re heading out?”

“Mc is, did you have any business here?” Lucifer solemnly stared at your teacher, but he didn’t seem fazed, instead he smiled.

“Yes, I was just coming to pick up my lovely apprentice, thought maybe we could walk back to Cocytus Hall together”

“That’s convenient” the demon’s voice almost hinted a bit of relief, your eyes focused on his face, which was now offering an apologetic gaze. “Mc here seems to be exhausted to the bone. My apologies, my brothers went overboard this time.”

“No worries” you waved it off and almost added something about how used you were used to it “I’m sure I just need a good nights rest and i’ll feel like new in no time.”

“Very well, have a safe walk back you two” Lucifer didn’t linger and walked back towards his study.

“You do look beat” Solomon giggled, and with a sigh you walked up to him.

“I’m in need of one of those hugs of yours” you wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head over his clavicles.

“Aw, poor Mc” his voice softened and he hugged you back “I take it this means you don’t want to walk back home?”

Your eyes closed lazily, finding a captivating comfort in his arms.

“I’d totally hate that” your whispered voice got a slight chuckle out of him.

“You’re lucky you have such an indulgent boyfriend” Solomon slightly leaned over you and picked you up bridal style, his movements so swift and light that it didn’t even startle your eyes open. Your arms slithered around his neck, almost feeling the warmth of his body lullabying your thoughts to sleep. “how about I prepare you a bath and cook your favourite dish?”

A breeze rushed over your skin to let you know you had been teleported back to your room and you opened your eyes immediately.

“I’m not really hungry” he walked you over to bed.

Solomon tried to lay you over the clean sheets, but your arms remained locked around his neck. You laughed as you brought him down into the mattress with you and he let out a surprised yelp.

“Just stay here with me” his silver eyes looked up to you as you spoke “ right now I only want to rest in your arms”

“Your wish is my command” he grabbed you hand and kissed your knuckles, before moving over next to you.

With a sigh, you buried yourself into his arms again and closed your eyes, nuzzling against his black turtleneck. As you drifted away into the alluring sense of rest, you felt Solomon leaving a sweet kiss on your hair.

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

#; fluffy belle #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #om solomon #solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x you #solomon x y/n #obey me x reader #gn!reader

[loquaciousferret]

Partners

Summary: After a difficult 6-month partnership with Agent Peña, the tension unravels itself in an unexpected way.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, degradation, sexism, physical violence, rough unprotected sex, powerplay/ light dom/sub dynamics, male-receiving oral sex - rough. sir!kink, semi-public sex (private but in an office/public place), maybe more PLEASE read at own risk.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: You guys ATE up my mean!Javi last time and made it my most popular fic so far! (nearly 900 notes is absolutely crazy and also over 100 followers thank you so much). He is so much worse in this LOL

@silkiers @tightjeansjavi

“You don’t outrank me!” You yelled at Agent Peña, and the way his eyes darkened when you pointed this out honestly terrified you.

“Maybe not.” He says through gritted teeth. “But this is my fight.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s everybody’s fight. We are partners, Javier. Equal partners. Stop acting like you are the only person with a stake here!” You respond, exasperated. Since you joined the team in Colombia as Javier Peña’s partner 6 months ago, this must be an argument you have had over a dozen times. 

“If you had just obeyed orders they never would have gotten away!” He yelled, closing the distance between you in the already narrow corridor and stabbing a finger towards you accusatorially. “It’s your fault.” 

“Get it through your head! There is no “obeying your orders” Javi.” You say through gritted teeth, before your voice raises to a yell, “You are not my superior. Get used to it!” You are enraged by his constant disrespect. 

“Well I should be, though.” He seethes.

“What?” You snap.

“How many arrests do you have since you got here?” He challenged.

You scoffed and put a hand on his shoulder to push him out the way and rejoin your team, but he stood firm, not letting you past. 

“How many times have I saved your ass in the field? Have you ever done it in return?” He continues.

You exhale with exertion as you continue to try and pass him, but he is steadfast. 

“Answer me, hm? You really think you’re my equal in this job?” 

“I’m not doing this, Javi. I’m not in competition with you.”

“Right. Because you know yourself that you can’t be.” He sneered.

“Stop it.” You urge him, your frustration growing by the second. “I earned my right to be on this team the same way you did.” 

“Oh now that’s funny.” He scoffed, “I know who your father is. You don’t think him being head of internal affairs has anything to do with your appointment here?”

“How dare you.” You say, seething with anger at his insinuation. It's not like it isn't one you've heard behind your back, but it's the first time someone has thrown it in your face. “I didn’t even tell my father I was applying for this transfer. He has nothing to do with it.” 

“Ok.” He stares at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Then who did you fuck to get the job, then?” The way the word rolls of his tongue makes it sound more vulgar than you could imagine, and before you can take a moment to stop yourself, Javi gasps in shock as your right hand connects with his cheekbone with an amazing amount of power. You just slapped your partner.

“You fucking bitch.” He spits. 

For a second you honestly thought he was approaching you to hit you back, but even more strangely, he is connecting his lips to yours. To your own surprise, you are kissing him back. Roughly, and desperately, and it's as if all of your anger and disdain towards him has transformed into lust with the snap of a finger.

He was ripping at the buttons on your blouse as you fumbled with the straps and buckles on his tactical vest on instinct. Had this been it all along, and you had been totally blind to it? Was all the tension between the pair of you just sexual frustration this whole time, and once it was out your system your partnership could be amicable? 

Who knows. But at this point it was worth a shot. It couldn’t make your working relationship any worse, as there was no way further down from where it already was. 

He pushed you back against the wall where you hit your head roughly but neither of you acknowledged that. 

“You’re gonna forget I’m not your superior when you’re on your knees, calling me sir, and begging me to fuck you.” He hissed into your ear and you froze up under his touch. He noticed, and you felt his lips tug into his signature devilish smirk as he continued to kiss you harshly, dominating with his tongue, controlling the pace of it all.

With your shirt fully unbuttoned he began to make his way down your body, leaving your lips to attach his lips to your neck, collarbones, lower to the curve of cleavage peaking out over your bra. You cursed yourself for wearing a sensible one, not planning on having it on show, but Javi clearly didn’t seem to care, groping you harshly through the fabric cups before slipping a hand inside one and freeing your breast from the top. As your breast sprung out of the fabric, your nipple hardened in the cold air and he flicked his tongue across it, sucking lightly. You gasped and bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the sensation. You figured that adrenaline and sexual frustration were adding to why you felt so sensitive under Javi’s touch, or at least that’s what you would tell yourself to explain why he was having such a dramatic effect on you.

As you got his tactical vest unfastened, you pushed it off his shoulders and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

He hissed at you to be quiet and it snapped you back to the reality of the situation. What were you doing? Were you really about to hate-fuck your partner just a few yards away from your entire team and a considerably large section of the Colombian police force and army?

You must have pulled away from him subconsciously as these thoughts ran through your head because the kiss broke and Javier was looking at you, his eyes questioning you. You considered him for a moment, and noticed how his expression had softened from before. Somehow this made you give in to your desires once again and you were reaching out for him, clutching his broad shoulders and pulling him back towards you.

He smiled. This was all the permission he needed to have his way with you now. He had backed off and you had re-initiated.

Javier had known all along that his attraction to you would be a thorn in his side whilst working together. It made him question his own judgment, it made him hesitate. It numbed his instincts in the field.

This was the tension relief he had needed for the whole 6 months you had been here, tormenting him with your mere presence. Your shiny hair. Your delicious scent. The way sweat would bead in the valley between your collarbones, inviting him to lick and suck and taste every inch of you. Now he was finally getting his chance. And you wanted it too.

You, of course, were oblivious to his thoughts and distracted from your own by his lips which were attached to your neck, sucking and nibbling lightly, making you gasp, whilst you worked at the buckle on his belt and then unzipped his jeans. He had a stiff erection that somehow both thrilled and alarmed you due to its size.

At this point he made good on his earlier promise and shoved you roughly to your knees. You gratified his silent command, wrapping your lips around the head of his hard cock. You took him further into your mouth, ever so slowly, retaining eye contact with him as he slid along your tongue and into your throat at a torturous pace for him. When you pulled away just as slowly, slipping him back out your mouth and teasing the underside of his shaft with your tongue as he glided across it, his patience snapped. In a moment he was grabbing both your arms, hauling them up and pressing them against the wall, pushing you back into it until there was not an inch of space between you. You kept watching him, expectantly, and then you opened your mouth widely and let your tongue drop out just slightly. He groaned at the sight and slammed nearly his entire length into your mouth. His pace was aggressive and you felt tears welling in your eyes after just a few of this thrusts as he fucked your throat.

"We're done doing things your way, you understand?" He grunted.

You watch his expressions, unable to respond. A vein bulges in his neck and a few of his curls are beginning to plaster themselves to his forehead with sweat.

"I asked you a question, agent. Do you understand me?" He repeated, partly through gritted teeth as he concentrated on not completely losing himself in the sensation of you letting him fuck your throat so well.

With great difficulty, you nodded your head slightly and hummed a response. The vibration of the movement and the sound had him grunting again, faltering inside you for a moment.

You could feel spit dribbling down your chin, your neck. You knew you must look absolutely wrecked and once again you considered being caught in this compromising position with Javi. Only this time, the thought didn't fill you with anxiety. It sent a pulse straight to your dripping core. The fear was turning you on.

He pulled out with no warning and you felt yourself reaching out to take him in your mouth again almost involuntarily. He removed one of his hands from their grip on your wrists and held your hair, tugging you back away from him and holding your head firmly against the wall.

"What a greedy slut." He taunted, his eyes watching you practically penetratingly.

You whined and he smirked. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me." You say breathlessly.

"Oh I will, pretty girl." His thumb is tracing your lower lip and gathers some saliva still dripping from his rough treatment of your mouth. He spreads it around more down your chin.

"But you'll have to ask me nicely." His tone is menacing.

You shake your head at what he is asking for and he laughs, dropping your hands quickly and pulling back from you, beginning to tuck himself away and reaching for the zip on his jeans.

"No!" You protest. "No, I'm sorry. No, please."

He pauses, waiting for you to give him exactly what he wanted.

"Please, Javi, I want you to-" But this wasn't enough and he resumes his actions, slower this time but still continuing to adjust himself in his jeans and tidy himself up. You whine again in frustration. You are already begging more than you want to. But you understand that he isn't going to indulge you until you submit even further.

"Please, Sir."

He finally stops preparing to leave you there and you can see satisfaction written all over his expression. You had given in to what he wanted and you knew you would never live it down, but your desire overruled this logical thinking part of your brain.

"Please, what?" He says, already with his cock out again, stroking it slowly in front of your face.

"Please, Sir, I want you to fuck me. I want you to use me."

"Yeah, that's right." He growls, gripping your shoulders and dragging you back to your feet.

He rips your pants and underwear down your legs hastily, throwing them aside and lifting you up, wide palms spread under your thighs, strong arms hoisting you up to be in line with his hips.

He plunges his erection inside you with absolutely no preparation. It would have been more painful if you weren't so wet and turned on, ready for him to take from you what he wanted. A strangled sound escapes you, something desperate and shameless, between a moan and a cry.

"Be fucking quiet." He hisses.

He is bouncing you on his cock, your body dragging up and down the cold wall. Your hair is becoming more untamed by the second. He doesn't take his eyes off of you, never checking out and focussing on his own pleasure, rather constantly observing yours. The way you bit your lip and screwed up your face in pleasure and pain was driving him crazy.

"This why you've had such an attitude all along, needed me to put you in your place, huh?" He growls in your ear.

You have never liked this kind of talk. But now, with Javi, it is turning you on more than you have ever imagined.

You nod and he tuts at you.

"What do you say when I ask you something?"

"Y-yes, sir." You gasp.

His pace is punishing and the angle is allowing him to reach the deepest part of you, every single thrust was overwhelmingly powerful in its effect.

You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and found the confidence to roll your hips against him in the rhythm of his strokes, finding just the right way to stimulate your clit. Whimpers escaped your lips rapidly and he was no less vocal, grunting and panting into your ear.

You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly and began to clench around him as the knot built inside you.

"Oh, god, that's it." He praised. "That's my girl."

Whether it was his words or the sensation of his lips and moustache tickling your ear, you weren't sure, but suddenly you were coming undone around him. You lost your grip on his shoulders and slumped slightly but he tightened his hold on you and picked up his pace, desperate to earn his release whilst your walls were still clenching around him following your orgasm.

Barely a couple of strokes later and he was releasing inside you, guttural sounds escaping him. He stayed still for a couple of moments afterwards, panting while he caught his breath. Unexpectedly, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He helps you down slowly onto your feet and laughs quietly when you stumble a little the first time he tries to let go of you. That's what snaps you out of your post-orgasm haze and you shoot him a glare as you hurriedly get dressed again.

With your back to him, you finish buttoning your shirt. "This changes nothing."

"We'll see." He challenges, taking his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and balancing one between his lips. You shake your head, one more icy look sent his way for good measure, and then you return to your department, trying not to think about all the ways in which this event could come back to bite you.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #agent pena smut #agent pena #narcos #narcos smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader smut #javier pena x reader fanfiction

[rae-writes]

the first time—

obey me boys x reader

wc : 3.k

warnings : mild mc injuries, reference to lesson 16 (belphie)

synopsis : a collection of firsts with your pining boys + Luke cause I adore hims (and minus asmo)

a/n : why asmo isn’t included : here 

Lucifer

the first time you felt his bare touch 

Solomon’s new potion experiment made you sick : feverish, sluggish, barely being able to walk without stumbling. You definitely shouldn’t have tested it for him during RAD, because now you were disoriented, and leaned up against the hallway wall when you should be in class. 

Lithe fingers grabbed your jaw gently, sending shivers down your body; their touch was cold and soft...comforting. It felt nice. 

Without bothering to open your eyes, your own hand came up to grasp theirs. You leaned into the touch and let out a miserable noise. A deep, familiar, chuckle made you snap your eyes open. 

Lucifer stood in front of you with an amused, albeit concerned, smile on his face. “Mc, it seems you’re running a fever.” 

But you weren’t focused on his words, no. You were focused on his ungloved hand. You trailed your fingers across the exposed skin, running over each of his digits before you noticed his nails. 

Red. His nails were red. Of course they were red. The sight alone made you smile, and against your better judgment, you pulled his hand up to place kisses on each of his fingertips. 

Ruby eyes widened slightly at your action, body forcibly repressing shivers and the stupid blush that wanted to crawl up his face. “Mc.”

“Let’s just stay here for a bit, please.” You knew he could fix your sickness with a snap of his fingers, but... “Wanna feel your touch.” 

And maybe Lucifer shouldn’t get in the habit of spoiling you, but you’re pouting and nuzzling into his hand, and he can’t deny the pride swelling in his chest because you’d rather be sick and miserable than have him pull away and tug his glove back on. 

“Of course.” 

(As he slid down the wall to sit on the floor with you, he made the fever disappear anyway. Your bright smile made missing class worth it, especially when you tugged off his other glove and rested your face in his hands.)

Mammon

the first time you kissed him

“Thank you, Mammon.” 

Your soft tone had him looking up from your rather poorly bandaged wrist, eyebrows furrowed, “Y-yeah, of c-course.” His mouth was pulled into a frown as he finished up. How could he have been so careless? He should’ve been standing closer to you. He should’ve gotten up even after he slipped and protected you. He should’ve-

“Mammon?”

Blue eyes snapped up, meeting your worried e/c hues. Fuck, it made his heart lurch. “Next time I’m gonna be the one that saves you. Me. Not Lucifer, not anyone else. A-and if I can’t save you, your only other choice is to die! It’s me or no one!”

You nodded softly, gaze never straying from his. “You or no one.”

He nodded back absentmindedly, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere with his stupid fumbling. Faintly, he recognizes that Beel could be coming back at any second, but when your hand brushes against his cheek he can’t help but lean closer.

“You’re so sweet, Mammon…” you cradled his face with both hands now, gently pulling him forward, “My best first man.” your lips slotted over his hesitantly and just a bit clumsily. 

His heart nearly shot out of his chest at the way you were being so soft with him— a demon. So he reciprocates the kiss just as softly, if not a little more firmly. And he could almost float back to the celestial realm with how light he feels when you press just a little closer to him. 

(And yeah he’s greedy, he’s the fucking avatar of greed, so Mammon doesn’t feel bad in the slightest when your phone starts buzzing with incoming texts from Levi. He just pulls you in closer, makes you stay with him just a bit longer because now he’s addicted to the feel of your kiss.)

Levi

the first time you linked hands

When you heard there was going to be a ball during your retreat at the Demon Lord’s Castle, you were excited! You enjoyed the thought of getting to dress up and dance like the fairy tales, but the actual thing had you feeling nervous; there were so. many. people. Demons, really, but that actually made it worse.

And after being politely threatened by Lucifer (again), you and your now very much aching hand were ready to curl up and disappear. But that wasn’t an option, so you wandered around close to the walls until a gentle touch made you stop.

“M-mc?” Levi’s tail had curled around your wrist while he stood shifting his weight around. As his hand moved to brush against yours, he didn’t make a single sound, choosing instead to ask his question silently. 

‘D-do you w-want to h-h-hold my h-hand?’

Even though he wasn’t speaking, you could still hear his cute, nervous stuttering clear as day in your mind; it makes you smile and step closer. Your pinky wraps around his in a ‘yes’, feeling grateful he noticed your discomfort.

Levi jolts, having been prepared to get rejected. His face burns with an alarming red but he slowly intertwines all your fingers together nonetheless. Almost instinctively, his thumb begins rubbing circles over yours, “D-do you f-feel better y-yet?”

You did. Even the ache Lucifer caused in your hand seemed to dull at his bashful smile. “Yes, Levi. Thank you.”

He nodded, pushing down the urge to curl up and hide away when you squeezed his hand, making him jolt again. The sound of your fond laughter sent him reeling and he awkwardly squeezed back just to hear it again and again.

(He can feel his palms growing sweaty as the time passes, and Levi is all but amazed you seem to not care. Your fingers stay tangled with his, palms never breaking contact, even if you have to tug one another clumsily so you can walk around another guest without letting go. It makes Levi all fuzzy and warm— and he’s pretty sure it’s not just because it’s getting hot in the ballroom.)

Satan

the first time you genuinely smiled at him

It had been nearly a week since you, Lucifer, Mammon, and Satan returned home from the fiasco in London. Things were good between you and the fourth born, much to his delight. He wasn’t expecting it since he did try to attack you before the trip, even if he already apologized for it. 

A ‘I’ve actually gotten pretty used to it?’ was thrown out before you were dragging him down to dinner by his sleeve. Being in the devildom, Satan supposes he should be glad that you aren’t giving such severe reactions to these things like you were when you first arrived (the ordeal with Lucifer and the grimoire was another thing entirely), but he still feels as though he should make up for losing his cool. 

He decided on asking what your favorite book is so he can get himself a copy to read and then get you a copy of his favorite book in return. As he sat reading, waiting for you to arrive, he failed to notice your presence in the doorway until you rapped your knuckles on the wood. 

Placing his bookmark, Satan stood up, excited to give you his gift when he had the breath stolen from him. You hadn’t moved but now you were holding up a lanyard, a familiar chocolate lizard attached, with a beaming smile. 

His fingers clutched at his identical keychain, one he’d tied to his favorite bookmark. You’d noticed. It made you happy. You were smiling at him. He’d never seen such genuineness directed at him from you and the sight itself, the feeling of being on the receiving end of it, made him beam right back as he held out the book for you.

(And when you settle down beside him on the common room couch, immersed in reading the book he’d gotten you- his favorite- Satan can’t resist peering over the top of his own book to take in your reactions. Because when you smile at the story, it almost feels like you’re still smiling at him.)

Beel

the first time you cooked for him, only him

[HoL gc; Beel] :(. :((. :(((. :((((.

[HoL gc; Lucifer] Put your D.D.D down and rest. We’ll bring you something after school.

You frowned at Beel’s obvious misery, knowing the sickness had to be bad if he couldn’t make it to school. The thought of him with a fever, bedridden and being unable to get food from the fridge- and possibly not even being able to keep it down- made your stomach twist unpleasantly. 

[Mc] Stay in bed for me, bub. 

Beel whined pitifully at your text, stomach rumbling and head aching. “Mc…” he rolled over, arms moving to cover his face when yours popped in his vision. “M-mc?” Despite being confused at your presence, he tugged you closer to his feverish body.

“Hi, bubs. ‘M here. Not goin’ anywhere, okay?” Rubbing a cool rag over his face, neck, and chest, you smiled down at him reassuringly, “You smell that? I brought you some food. Cooked it just for you.”

His sense of smell was severely dulled from the sickness, but at the mention of your cooking, he sniffed a couple times until he could pick up the faint aroma, “Just f-for me? You should be in school…Lucifer’s going to get mad.”

You shook your head, dismissing his worries, “Shh. I left to cook some ‘feel better’ food for my favorite red-head. Ain’t no better reason to skip than that, now here. Try and eat as much as you can- it should all be easy on your stomach.”

He sips at the soup first, eyeing the rest of the dishes he easily made out as popular human world remedies. Beel’s stomach growls in appreciation and his heart beats two times faster, “Thank you, Mc! Eat some with me?”

(The Fangol game on friday he had to get better for was forgotten as you sat by his side and shared food. Your insistence to let him eat first, and the majority, made his cheeks flush hotter than the fever. Food tastes better when he could eat it with you and it tasted even better when you made it for him…stay with him until he gets better. And all the days after, too.)

Belphie

the first time you hugged him (again)

“Stupid Lucifer and his stupid lectures and stupid face-“ 

You bit your lip to keep from grinning as you rounded the corner and peeked into the planetarium. “Belphie?” The sight of a tail flicking angrily made you snort. 

He turned, lips pursed in a pout and eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

A smile finally tugged at your lips, hand coming up to smooth back his hair, being mindful of his horns. The shocked expression you received was amusing and you couldn’t help but laugh, “Aww.”

“D-don’t ‘aww’ at me!” Belphie’s face flushed as he shook his head, making his hair fall back into place. The loss of warmth from your touch made him frown, “What do you want?” 

You sighed at his tense stature. “Lucifer can be a jerk sometimes. Don’t worry about him.” Your arms wrapped around his waist tightly in a hug; he felt…good.

Meanwhile Belphie ran stiff as a board, eyes widening comically and mouth dropping open. This feeling…he remembered it— he’s craved it ever since-

“You did it! You actually did it! I’m free now!” His chest felt weird and fuzzy when you jumped into his open arms, laughing with him, though he didn’t dwell on the feeling for long. 

A quiet gasp escaped him when you began to pull back, arms instinctively curling around you, “Don’t. Stay.” 

And you did. 

(The warmth spreading through his body was almost too hot, but Belphie revels in it because you’re hugging him— even after what happened last time. He thinks he can get used to the burn if it means you won’t let go.)

Diavolo

the first time you treated him like a real friend

The student council hall was quiet. The demons already present were taking the time to enjoy the rare silence when the door slammed open rather obnoxiously. 

“DIA!”

The Prince of Hell jumped. His head whipped around, jaw on the floor, and his sparkling eyes almost missed the way you were drenched from head to toe. Almost. “Oh dear, what happened, Mc?” 

Listen to that worried tone. It’s like he wasn’t throwing a party inside his brain. 

Before Lucifer could open his mouth and scold you, your arms were stretched out towards the Prince with a pout on your face. “The Little D’s threw water balloons at me…” you tilted your head, “They said you told them to!” 

Uh-oh. “It seems they mistook my instructions for Lucifer for you instead…I’m terribly sorry, Mc.” 

A grin graced Barbatos’ features, “Perhaps next time you should not talk about them both at the same time.” 

“Yes, yes-“ Diavolo wasn’t listening. He was too busy shrugging his coat off and draping it around you, “I am truly sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

You gave a sly smile, “Just stand still please.”

“Stand still-?!” A red water balloon hit the prince smack in the chest. Coldness spread across his chest as the liquid seeped into his shirt, but his chest had never felt warmer. No one would ever dare to do anything of the sort to him, the prince, but you…you did it with a smile. 

He likes your smile. 

(Diavolo couldn’t help himself when he lifted you in the air, spinning you around with a booming laugh that was reciprocated sweetly. Friendship was the stepping stone to becoming even closer with you, and if he has to endure Lucifer and Barbatos’ lectures to do that, he’ll do it a thousand times if it’s for you.)

Barbatos

the first time you helped him work 

Lucifer had caught you on your way home from RAD, asking if you’d rather come with him to the Demon Lord’s Castle (Levi accidentally summoned Lotan again so he and everyone else were cleaning up and the first born thought he’d spare you the headache.)

So you arrived with Lucifer in tow (you wanted to knock), giving the prince and Barbatos quite the delight. You stayed behind with the latter, as Lucifer and Diavolo had business to discuss, and happily followed him to the kitchen.

“Been working on any new sweets, Barb?” You eye the empty icing bowls on the counter, shimmying past the demon to scoop some onto your finger. 

He chuckles, “I have. The only thing left to do is pipe the designs on.” Barbatos was used to you watching him bake, so he was a bit puzzled when you began to collect the dirty dishes from around the kitchen instead. 

You hummed as you danced around the demon to reach the sink. Small bubbles floated up as piled the dishes up in the water, making you giggle. 

“Mc?” Barbatos places down the icing pipe and makes his way over to you, “What are you doing?” 

“Washing dishes? You’ll have to go take their tea up to them in a bit and I know you wanted to get those cookies decorated, so I thought I’d help out!”

Green eyes softened, lips curling into a small smile. “How thoughtful of you.” 

(Barbatos has never failed to deliver the young master’s tea in the millennia he’s been his steward, but for today, the butler hopes his master won’t mind. He’d truly hate to have to miss out on your cheerful face as you blew soap bubbles at him.)

Simeon

the first time you saw his wings 

The grip you had on Simeon’s hand only got tighter as the group of demons stalked closer. Normally you wouldn’t worry- you weren’t helpless and you had an angel with you- but there were just so many of them with nowhere to go. 

Lower level demons, but they were smart enough to know they needed to gang up on the devildom’s human and their angel pet. “What’s with those looks? Not gonna call for help?” One of the taller demons shifted and lashed their tail at your face, slicing your cheek open.

Simeon saw red. His hand ripped from yours as he moved to stand in front of you, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Tch.” White wings sprouted from his back, spanning out to their full length; they glowed brightly, sending every demon in the vicinity scrambling. 

“Simeon…”

The angel tensed at your quiet tone, head craning around to watch you shuffle around. Were you scared? Was he too frightening? Did he accidentally hurt you? “Mc-”

“They’re beautiful.” Awe filled eyes gazed at him with adoration, “You’re beautiful.” Your hand stretched out absentmindedly, a smile stretching across your face when his wing extended toward you. 

Meanwhile, Simeon was floored. Your reaction, your smile, the gentle way you caressed his wings- it was all dizzying and rejuvenating at the same time. Father help him, he seriously considered you were the angel instead.

“Oh-! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch them! Angel wings are probably sacred or something-” You moved to pull your hand back, but lithe fingers wrapped around your wrist, preventing yours from leaving his feathers. 

“Please, touch them as much as you like.”

(Seeing an angel’s wings, much less touching them, was sacred. Simeon couldn’t bring himself to care, though. He’d kneel before you if you wanted him to- fuck he was so smitten with you. Corrupt him, do what you wish, just don’t make him go without the feel of your touch.)

Solomon

the first time you told him you missed him

You clutched the phone tighter when Mammon hung up, letting out a sigh. When it buzzed again, this time with texts, you checked half-heartedly before getting excited at the name displayed. 

[Solomon] Hey. How are you doing? It’s been a while. 

[Mc] It sucks. This sucks. I miss the Devildom.

[Solomon] Do you now? By the way, Mc, I can’t help wondering…

“When were you gonna mention how much you miss me?” Solomon's lips pull into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen him have, “Surprise! You didn’t expect this, did you?”

You drop your D.D.D and throw your arms around his neck, bubbly laugh echoing through the street, “Solomon! I missed you so fucking much, holy shit, you’re actually here!” 

The sorcerer stood, lips parted in shock, and arms raised in the air slightly. He could feel your warmth seeping through his clothes and for just a moment, Solomon forgot all he knew about self-restraint and snaked his arms around you tightly. 

Jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist, you laughed even harder when he stumbled back slightly from the added weight. You knew Solomon had to be absolutely shell-shocked; the two of you never got affectionate like this with one another before (slightly due to the brothers butting in) but you just…

“Missed me a lot, huh? I must admit, I wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction.” He leaned back to show you his smile- and the rare baby pink blush that dusted over his cheeks.

The sight made you swoon, “Well I did. I missed you. Badly.”

(When Solomon put you down, the warmth faded away too fast for his liking. His fingers twitched at his sides, lips pulling into a slight frown before he was reaching out for you, tugging you back into his arms. The Devildom could wait for a little while longer— Solomon wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.)

Luke

the first time you made him speechless

The young Angel didn’t like to admit to having nightmares. While he obviously knew it was something everyone- no matter the age- could suffer from, he still didn’t want to burden anyone with his ‘childish’ dreams. Tonight had been especially bad though, and Luke’s resolve finally cracked; he found himself seeking your reassurance without thinking. 

[11:29pm] Mc, are you awake? I had a nightmare…

Luke tells himself he’s stupid- of course you’re asleep! It’s a school night and he shouldn’t be bothering you. He forces himself to lay back down, trying to shoo away the disappointment in his chest. 

[11:45pm] Luke! Come open the door!! 

Luke stares at his phone for a few seconds before he’s scrambling quietly to the front door, “Mc?! W-what are you doing here?!” 

“You said you had a nightmare, right? I brought my clothes and stuff for school tomorrow so we could have a little sleepover! Being with someone else always helps me after I have a nightmare.” 

Blue eyes stare in disbelief as you easily make your way through the halls, heading straight towards his room. He’s silent the entire time, watching you settle into his bed, piling up the covers comfortably before patting the spot beside you. And as Luke slips back under the blankets and cuddles into your side, he hears you humming a soft tune and refuses to open his mouth in fear of interrupting you after you’ve come all this way— just because he had a nightmare. 

‘Mc…thank you.’ 

(Simeon comes to wake Luke up after not seeing him in the kitchen for breakfast and pauses, lips curling into a grin. You're wrapped around Luke like a barrier against the outside world, intent on protecting him, even in your sleep. He figures he should quickly text Lucifer though, before he has to deal with the wrath of 7 brothers when they figure out their Mc disappeared in the night.)

#obey me x reader #om x reader #Obey me drabble #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #om mammon #leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan #om leviathan #obey me levi #om levi #satan x reader #om satan #obey me satan #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #obey me beel #om beelzebub #belphegor x reader #belphie x reader #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

[cupid-styles]

chiffon (grumpy!h)

in which harry is still a grump, but now he has a soft spot for Y/N and wants to protect her at all costs.

word count: 3.5k

content warnings/author's notes: part two of grumpy h!! there will be one more (smutty) part of this series posted one week from today. CWs: one mention of sexual consent in a negative way, description of a bad sexual experience

part one | masterlist | talk to me

Y/N wakes up three hours later in her pitch black bedroom. 

She's instantly grateful when she realizes that the persistent migraine has now been demoted to a dull throbbing at her temples, a sign that it should fully fade away within the night.

For a moment, she forgets any of the day's events — that she attempted to go to classes today but stranded herself in Donnolly's office when she couldn't make it home. Even more embarrassingly, that Harry's the one that found her and took her home and— oh my God, she asked him to stay.

If she wasn't still in some sort of pain, Y/N would have shot up in bed and pressed an ear to her door to figure out if he was still here. She figures that that's less painful than going downstairs in a large tee-shirt and a pair of underwear, her preferred sleeping attire, to see if he had destroyed her home yet.

Maybe that's all this was, actually — just a really longwinded attempt for Harry to fully and finally ruin her life by catnapping Ginger or something.

She's deep in coming up with ways Harry could destroy her dwellings when there's a quiet knock on her bedroom door. Her eyes snap open and she croaks out an awkward, "...yeah?", revealing something she never thought she'd ever see in her home: Harry holding Ginger in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

"Y'awake?" he asks as he slowly, hesitantly tip-toes inside. There aren't any lights on so it's hard for him to see anything, which Y/N is grateful for — she still has a pile of clean laundry to fold, with pink lacey underwear unfortunately at the top of the basket.

"Um, yeah. I just woke up actually." Y/N finally croaks out. Harry kneels down to let Ginger go and she immediately wanders over to her bed, jumping up to lay at her feet. 

"How are you doing?" 

"Alright, thanks. It's starting to go away."

"'S good."

Harry clears his throat at the awkward silence that overtakes, putting the ceramic plate down on her desk, "I ordered pizza, I wasn't sure if you'd be hungry when you woke up."

"Oh, thank you," Y/N replies, sitting up slightly and propping herself against the mess of pillows behind her. "Yeah, I've barely eaten in the past few days."

"Oh, here then." Harry murmurs, grabbing the plate and handing it to her. She accepts it gratefully, eager to take a bite.

"You can turn on that lamp for some light if you'd like."

"Do you want it on?" he questions, "Not sure if it'll bother you or... if you wanna see me, or whatever."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" 

"Because I made you cry."

Y/N shrugs between bites. "Everything makes me cry. It's stupid, like you said."

"I didn't say crying was stupid."

"Mm, you're right," she replies, "You called me pathetic and a church mouse."

Harry cringes as he shifts from foot to foot, awkwardly standing in the dark expanse of her room as she munches on pizza.

"That was really mean of me and I'm very sorry." 

Again, she shrugs, reaching the crust with a crunchy bite. "Okay."

He huffs as she finishes the slice. Everything about this girl should piss him off and, in hindsight, it does, but more than yelling at her, he wants to wrap her up in one of the million fuzzy blankets she has on her couch, press a kiss to her forehead, and protect her from everything that's ever made her sad.

"It's not okay, Y/N," Harry mutters. "Do you want another piece?"

"Yes, please. And turn the light on."

Silently, Harry obeys, flicking her lamp on before going back downstairs to retrieve another slice for her. This time, he pours her a glass of water too, figuring that she's thirsty since she didn't have that massive water bottle glued to her side today either.

"Thank you." she mumbles, taking big gulps of water and balancing the plate on her thigh. Harry notices that she still looks exhausted, but she's talking more now, and she's back to having the smidgen of attitude he's only ever seen her have with him. A large, tattered tee-shirt covers her form while her legs are left bare, bits of her thigh peaking out from where her blanket doesn't reach. He swallows, mentally rolling his eyes at himself for getting so jumbled over a sliver of skin.

"You said this migraine was triggered by stress." Harry says as he sits by the edge of her bed, gently stroking Ginger's fur. 

"Yeah. They happen a few times a year. I can be kinda bad at managing my emotions and stress and all that."

"What was so bad about it this time?" he asks, "Was it the TA position or are classes especially busy?"

Y/N swallows and bites her lip, glancing down to pick at a thread from her duvet cover. "Yeah, it was the TA position."

"What about it? I can take more of the workload from you if it's too much. We don't have to tell Donnolly about it."

"It wasn't... the workload, Harry," she mutters, keeping her gaze low, "It was you. I spent the weekend trying to figure out if I should transfer out of this lecture and try to switch to a different one. You... hate me so much and I just... didn't want to be in the company of someone who feels that way so openly."

Harry's heart drops. He knows he hasn't given her much an inkling that he feels any different about her, aside from helping her get home today, but if only she knew how much he thought about her this weekend — that he didn't want to go out or hookup with anyone because her face was the only one that crossed his mind. Her silly platform shoes that she can hardly walk in when she's particularly tired after a lengthy stretch of grading, her fuzzy cardigans, her dumb pencil pouches and her favorite red pen that she always uses.

"I don't hate you, Y/N. I'm so sorry I made you think that."

Y/N's watery eyes gaze up at him and his heart constricts again. "You've been so mean to me, though."

"I know," Harry sighs, shaking his head, "I know I have. I didn't mean it. Any of it. You're not pathetic or stupid. Or a church mouse."

"Then why did you say those things?"

He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath. "Because I think you're actually very smart and sweet and pretty, and I can tell that you don't think very highly of yourself, and it bothered me. I wanted you to defend yourself to me and say that you're not any of those things. It pissed me off when you wouldn't... it pisses me off that you're not like any of the people I hang out with, and I still think you're so cool."

Y/N's jaw nearly drops at that, the thought of Harry thinking anything positive about her feeling like a bad joke. How very childish of him, and if was any other person sitting here telling her that, she would politely ask them to leave — but it's Harry, so instead, the thought makes her laugh. 

She's giggling and shaking her head, a big, toothy grin on her face. Harry's heart is pounding, and while her smile is so beautiful, it makes him nervous that she'd think this is funny.

"Why... are you laughing?"

"Because that's the silliest thing I've ever heard," Y/N guffaws, wiping away the moisture collecting in her tear ducts, "You're just so— you're silly, Harry, really. Big, grumpy Harry thinks I'm cool, so you decide to be mean to me instead of being my friend?"

Harry lets out a laugh, understanding now how absolutely foolish the whole scenario is. He shakes his head and covers his face with his hands as a warm flush flowers over his cheeks.

"Yeah, that's so fucking dumb." he admits, the small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes making an appearance from his wide smile.

And maybe it's from the lack of sleep, or the fact that she's feeling decent for the first time in days, or the pizza she scarfed down was just that good, but Y/N can't help but notice how pretty Harry looks when he smiles. And so she kneels on the bed, skin digging into the mattress, and reaches out to peel Harry's hands away from his face, gently placing his arms at his sides with a small smile.

Harry swallows loudly and Y/N swears he glances down at her lips for a split second. 

"Do you think we could be friends, Y/N?" 

She smiles wider, her shoulders relaxing. 

"Yeah. I would really like that."

. . .

The transition to friendship is nearly effortless. 

Harry realizes that he actually really adores hanging around Y/N, which is more of just a reminder of how awful he was to be so mean to her when they met. In the following weeks, they see each other twice a week at Donnolly's class. He'll typically bring her a coffee or a pastry and make sure she's drinking enough water, to which she'll shoot him a playful glare, showing off her massive 40-ounce water bottle. 

("It serves a double purpose, H, it's like a protective device, too!", she'd claimed when he asked about it. In response, he grumbled something about him being able to protect her far better, which makes her giggle and shake her head.)

Grading goes faster because they chat about anything and everything. Harry complains about his housemates, Y/N shows him cute pictures of Ginger, and sometimes, they'll grab dinner afterwards, which makes Harry feel especially thankful because it means he's spent more than half of his day with her. But no matter how many minutes or hours he spends in her presence, he's always left feeling warm and gooey inside, a dopey smile on his lips when they part.

It's gross. But Harry's lying if he says he doesn't love it.

It's a Friday afternoon when they're laying around in Y/N's living room. She's working on a critique for her advanced poetry class and Harry managed to convince her to let him come over a few hours ago—

"I really, really need to see Ginger, I bought her a new toy at the grocery store yesterday," he'd explained when he'd called her 20 minutes after waking up.

"You have to stop spoiling her! She's gonna like you more than me!"

"What's wrong with that?"

Y/N sighs and picks at the fuzzy threads of her pink throw blanket. "Fine, but can you please bring me a coffee?"

"I'm shocked you think I'd come over without one for you."

Harry's fairly good at letting Y/N work in peace. He'll thumb through his current read or play with Ginger while she does whatever she needs to do, but it's approaching 4 pm on a Friday, and he's growing determined to tear her away from her homework. 

"What are you doing tonight?" he asks from the carpeted floor, his back against the plushy blue fabric and Ginger perched on his stomach.

"Mm, probably gonna order sushi and watch a movie," Y/N murmurs, looking up at him from above the frames of her blue light glasses, "What bar are you planning on getting drunk at tonight?"

Harry grumbles and sits up, carefully removing Ginger and placing her on the floor. "Why do you assume those are my plans?"

Y/N smiles and shrugs, pulling her lavender cardigan up to cover her shoulder, "Isn't that what you do every weekend?"

"I guess so," he mumbles. "Don' wanna do that tonight, though. Can I hang out with you?"

With furrowed eyebrows, Y/N shuts her laptop and puts it on the coffee table. She purses her lips as she stretches her jean-clad lags out against the length of the couch. 

"Sure, but why would you want to do that?"

She doesn't miss the glare he shoots her as he traipses over to the sofa. He lifts her legs so there's room for him to sit down and quickly places them over his lap before she has the opportunity to blush at the physical contact.

"You're much more fun," Harry replies, "I'm craving sushi and I like the idea of cuddling up in your cozy lil' home with you. Is that okay?"

Y/N swallows, and Harry can tell by the way that her eyebrows are slightly drawn together, that she's processing, if not over-thinking. Softly, he taps her ankle once, a hum falling from her plush lips.

"It's alright if it's not. I know you like your alone time, Y/N." 

"No, no, it's fine," she rushes out as Ginger jumps up on the couch, making herself at home on Y/N's chest, "I just... you know."

"I know?"

"Yeah. You know."

"Mm, I think you lost me." 

She lets out a sigh as her knuckles carefully trace the top of Ginger's head. "I'm not used to people thinking I'm fun."

For a moment, Harry doesn't reply — not because he doesn't know how to, but because it feels like his heart has grown three sizes, just like in The Grinch. He doesn't want to overwhelm her with his feelings for her (that he thinks she's the coolest, most fun, sweetest girl he's ever come across), so he just squeezes her ankle and shakes his head.

"That's stupid," he murmurs, "You're so much fun. Don't think that you're not, okay?"

Y/N peeks up at him through her lashes and takes in the way that Harry's gaze is set on her, his eyebrows knitted together the way they do when he's focusing on reading or grading.

"Okay." she finally says.

"Good. Now, let's order some sushi and decide on a movie."

. . .

"Can I ask you a question?" 

Y/N glances up from her Philadelphia roll, chopsticks in hand, to see Harry staring intently at the TV and mid-chew. 

He does this often — there will be a comfortable lull in conversation and he'll say those words and ask something absolutely humiliating. Y/N swears he does it just because he likes to see her get nervous. Last time, he did it when they were in the middle of grading and asked what kind of porn she watched. The time before that, they had gotten dinner and were walking back to Harry's car when he wanted to know if she kicks Ginger out when she hooks up with someone.

And, like most things, because it's Harry, she doesn't actually get offended. She gasps and swats at him and hisses his name out, which always makes him cackle, and then gives some half-assed answer — "Harry! You don't need to know that!", or "Ginger has innocent eyes, stop it!". 

So this time, she can only wonder what's churning through that stupid boy brain of his. This time, they're not in public but instead in the confides of Y/N's home, which means literally anything could come out of his mouth right now.

"If you have to." Y/N eventually settles on, making him smirk.

"Are you a virgin?"

Y/N nearly chokes on the rice she was chewing. Sure, Harry was open about his previous sexual escapades, but he knows how shy she is. They've never actually broached the subject of her being physical with someone else, as they seemed to function on a don't-ask-don't-tell type of model.

She sets her chopsticks down and clears her throat, looking over to see Harry waiting patiently. "No," she finally answers, "I'm not a virgin."

"Hm."

He goes back to eating his sushi as if nothing awkward has happened and Y/N wants to yell at him. 

"What does 'hm' mean? Why did you wanna know?" she presses, because she's her, and she can rarely let anything go.

"Just curious, 's all," he replies with a shrug, "It doesn't mean anything. You know I'm not and I was wondering the same about you."

"Why? Because I'm an introvert?"

"No," Harry quickly shakes his head. He tends to get defensive whenever Y/N brings up her quiet personality, always reiterating that there's nothing wrong with her being timid. "I've just never seen you with anyone and I haven't heard of you going on dates or bringing people back to your place. I didn't know if there was something... blocking you from that."

"Not exactly." Y/N mutters as she stabs another piece of sushi with her chopsticks, bringing it up to her mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"Um... I mean, I'm not a virgin, but I also haven't had sex in like, five years. So."

"That's fine, Y/N," Harry replies easily, sitting back against the couch cushions, "That's not a bad thing at all."

Y/N takes a deep breath. "It's not really... it's not because I haven't wanted to, though." 

Her face is on fire now, nerves seeping into her bones as she thinks back to her college years. She's never opened about this to anyone besides a therapist she saw for a few weeks last summer, and even she didn't have anything productive to say.

"You can tell me anything," he says quietly, setting his sushi tray down on the coffee table to shift his posture to face her. "No judgement, you know that."

"It's not about being judged. It's embarrassing, Harry."

He nods his head, a wordless gesture of encouragement. She rolls her lips into her mouth and fists the blanket atop her lap, shutting her eyes.

"There was this guy when I was a sophomore in college. He lived in the same building as me and he was really nice... would always, like, hold the door open for me and make small talk when we were in the elevator. You know it's tough for me to find friends and feel comfortable around people so... I appreciated it, y'know? Anyway, after a few weeks of that, just like, friendly communication, he asks me out on a date. I was really excited because I'd never had someone interested in me romantically before. Or, at least, not enough to ask me out. So we went on a couple of dates and things seemed to be going really well, and we kissed and made out a few times, and then maybe a two or so months later, he asks me if I wanna come hang out in his room."

Harry's breath hitches and she looks up at him. "It's... it was all consensual, just so you know," she quickly clarifies and he nods, his body relaxing slightly. "Long story short, I guess, we slept together. That was my first time. It was fine, it didn't hurt too bad and he treated me pretty well. He went to go shower afterwards and... I was sitting in his bed, getting dressed when I saw he left his phone on his nightstand, and his friends were texting him... I thought maybe they were trying to make plans for the night or looking for him— I know I shouldn't have read them, but I saw my name, and... they, um, made a bet. To see if he could sleep with me. And if he didn't do it within three months of our first date, he'd owe them $100."

"Oh, Y/N," Harry gasps, surging across the length of the couch before she even realizes moisture has built up in her eyes. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his chest, hugging her tightly as the tears flow steadily, a choked sob sounding from her body. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, baby."

He repeats his apologies until Y/N finally stops crying. Neither of them know how long it's been, but when she breaks apart from the crook of his neck, she realizes she's basically seated in his lap, his strong legs serving as a spot for her to rest. He keeps his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders, his eyes searching for hers.

"Y/N, I need to tell you something," Harry says softly, his thumb finding her chin so he can look at her tear-streaked face. "I know I was awful to you when we met. I'll never forgive myself for that. But please believe me when I say I will stick around for as long as you'll have me, and I'll always protect you. I will never let anyone hurt you that way ever again. Okay? Do you believe me?"

A month ago, Y/N would have laughed in his face. 

Today, Y/N nods without a second thought. It doesn't take 20 seconds of thinking to know that she trusts Harry implicitly, and she tears up again at the thought of finally resting because he's watching over her.

Read part three here! :)

#writing #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles imagine #fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #one direction #harry styles writing #Harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fandom #harry styles love on tour #fic rec #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #love on tour

[riptideripley]

Handsy

gif creds: @rhea-ripley

summary:She’s a bit more..handsy.

slight hand kink,gagging as well

wrd count:907

It was a casual night out for you,your girlfriend,and the judgment day family. Every Wednesday you all go out for dinner as a way to bond and relax outside of work. Something was different in Rhea tonight,she seemed a bit more..handsy. Constantly squeezing your thighs,slipping her hand up your dress just to remove it after a few squeezes,and her favorite squeezing your ass while they weren’t looking. Dominik caught her touches a few times but chose to ignore it,making you very happy that he did.

“Yeah and I told Jey the same thing we told Drew,only one of them listen t- Rhea,ya listening?” Finn questioned her snapping her out of her zoned out aroused state. “Hm? Yeah i’m listening,Drew listening to the both of us was a good idea” she said,shooting him a soft smile as she sipped on the wine she chose. You and Dominik shot each other a quick look,making the both of you giggle. “Aye whats so funny..” Damian asked,nudging Dominik in the chest. “Hey take it easy..it’s nothing” Dominik responded,making everyone laugh. “It is getting pretty late..me and (your name) are gonna head out,i’ll talk to y’all tomorrow for a gym session?” she spoke in a slightly quickened tone,glancing between Finn and Damian. “Yeah sure! 7:30 sharp tho” Finn told her,flashing his cheeky smile. She smiled back in return,shooting Damian a wink that made him chuckle. In return,you did the same to Dominik. He only smiled and continued eating his chicken tenders.

As soon as you two got into the apartment,clothes were flying off. Giving both of her dogs a small light caress and a treat,she carried you upstairs to her room. As she placed you down onto the bed,she bent down to retrieve her favorite toy..a vibrator. You watched her carefully,giving her a playful smack on her rear that made her chuckle. “You really are a tease huh? wearing that tight black dress tonight..” she spoke,her tone low and tempting. Her soft girthy hands slipping up your dress,hiking it up along the way. The sensation of her cold rings along her fingers only messed with your senses more,earning a small gasp from you as you watched her silently.

Rhea only chuckled at this,slipping your soaked panties off of you. You were so distracted and turned on by her hands you didn’t even realize she had turned the vibrator on,pressing it directly against your clit. You let out a soft gasp,instantly biting onto your hand to stifle any other sounds. She only gave you a sadistic smile,moving your hand. “Since you love them so much..try these puppy” she spoke in a deep nonchalant tone,slipping her fingers into your mouth. “Suck.” she spat out,eyes pierced on you. You obeyed,swirling your tongue all around them. The taste of cold metal from her rings,and of course the taste of your slick heat,filled your mouth instantly. She only stared at you,feeling deeply aroused at your state.

Slowly,she moved the vibrator in a circle earning a sweet muffled moan from your lips. She smiled,pressing a kiss against your forehead as she slowly shoved her fingers deeper into your mouth. Naturally you gagged around them,but it didn’t stop you from enjoying it. Rhea chuckled and unbuckled her belt using her one free hand,strapping it around your waist to hold the vibrator in place on your clit. You arched your back slightly,moaning around her fingers. She slyly slipped her fingers inside of you,curling them to hit that one spot you adored. You arched completely off the bed,your mouth falling open letting muffled gagged moans out. She only smiled and shoved her fingers deeper every time you moaned to shut you up.

15 minutes go by,3 orgasms yet she wasn’t done till she had 4. “Cmon puppy..i know you can give mami one more,can’t you?” she spoke in a pleading yet sadistic tone,fake pouting. You could only faintly nod and squirm,signaling your approaching orgasm. She smiled and curled her fingers more,pressing the pads of her ring and middle finger against your tongue. Quickly as if on command,you let out a slightly loud whine as you released making your legs shake. She slowed down her fingers helped you ride out your orgasm,once finished she unbuckled the belt and turned the vibrator off. She threw it onto the nightstand and removed her fingers from your mouth,smiling. “That’s all I wanted to do..for now at least” she said as she checked her phone for the time. It’s around 11:30 at night and she knew she had to be up early,so she helped you slip into some pajamas and wiped up your drool covered face.

She slipped into the bed next to you once changed into a tank top and shorts(the gray ones we all have seen),kissing your shoulder gently. “Maybe we can have some..morning shower sex” she whispered softly,planting a soft kiss on your lips as she smiled. You giggled at this and kissed her temple,”Maybe we can..until then it exhausted” You spoke yawning,feeling her warmth from her face as she slips her way into your neck.

#wwe #rhea ripley #wwe x reader #dominik mysterio #judgement day #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x fem reader #damien priest #finn balor

[kaiijo]

Hii!! I loved the idea of the spotify wrapped event and I also loved your one piece one shots! Can I request 41 x Law? If you dont write for him you can write for Zoro or whoever you think would be fitting :)

IVY — TRAFALGAR LAW

trafalgar law + Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland content: gn! reader, canon-typical descriptions of violence, references to law’s past notes: thanks so much for your kind words! hope you enjoy this drabble!

request a character and prompt for my spotify wrapped event here!

law is no stranger to nightmares. he’s accustomed to jolting awake, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, chest heaving with anxiety and fear. he tries to remember what his parents used to tell him to calm his racing heart: inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale in a count of eight. 

in. hold. out.

in. hold. out.

law doesn’t sleep a lot anymore, always locked in his office late at night, poring over books about anatomy and medicine and illnesses. it’s mostly because he’s working, the insomnia, but he knows there’s a part of him that’s almost scared to sleep — that doesn’t want to see looped images of dead bodies, feel the heat of erupting flames, hear the sounds of gunshots. 

law watches as you and penguin duck under a round of marine gunfire, diving for cover behind a building. civilians draw their shutters closed. the crew’s gotten what they need from the town, now it’s a matter of getting out. 

you sprint out from your hiding place, penguin hot on your heels. there’s another rain of bullets and law’s stomach lurches when he sees red dribbling down your arm, skin grazed by the bullet. he needs to get you two out of there now.

law lifts a hand. “room. shambles.” he switches you and penguin out for an empty crate and just like that, the two of you are standing safe on the polar tang’s deck. you’re both breathing hard, penguin resting his hands on his knees. you grab at your arm and law can tell that whatever adrenaline has been pumping through your veins is starting to wear off; you wince at the cut on your arm, your palm stained with blood. 

law gets the crew mobilized fast, everyone hustling to get the below deck so the polar tang can submerge. law swiftly and efficiently takes down the remaining marines, heading down below as the submarine sinks below the water.

he finds you heading for the washroom. he calls your name and you whirl around quickly. “captain,” you greet him.

“follow me.” law makes sure his tone leaves no room for argument and you shuffle behind him as he walks to the operating room.

you frown when you enter the room. “captain, i really don’t think my injury warrants an opera—”

he sighs heavily. “i’m not operating. just want to get somewhere more sterile. sit on the table.”

you obey easily and law opens up a cabinet, grabbing hydrogen peroxide, a roll of bandages, and antibiotic cream. he also picks up a sterilized pair of tweezers. when he turns around, you’re already shrugging out of your boiler suit, twitching as the fabric rubs against your wound. 

law approaches, doing is best to keep his eyes on the wound and not on the exposed skin you revealed. when you joined the crew, law had never been more thankful to himself for making the boiler suits uniform. he doesn’t know if he could focus otherwise.

he examines the wound, looking closely to see if there are any bits of debris or fabric stuck in it. when he doesn’t see anything, law soaks a sterile pad in hydrogen peroxide and presses it against your graze. you make a high-pitched, wounded sound that cuts right through law’s heart and he tries his best to tenderly but thoroughly clean the wound. you flinch, gritting your teeth and hissing, “you really must hate me, captain.” 

you let out a pained laugh that lets law know you were joking but your statement still makes him frown. if only you knew just how much the opposite was true.

law sighs again, wrapping the bandage roll around your arm and snapping off a piece, securing it. you test the motion of your arm and law asks, “too tight?”

“no, it’s good.” you hop off the table. “thanks, doc.”

“i’ll need to check that every few days,” he tells you, “to watch for infection.”

“sounds good! guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” you shoot him a cheeky smile and thank him again as you slip out of the room. law is rooted to his spot, feeling heat climb up his neck. you faint scent lingers — cinnamon shampoo and apple soap.

law’s heart skips a beat.

late into the night, law sits at his desk in his office, doing is best trying to focus on the medical text in front of him. he thinks about the smoothness of your skin and the way your eyes curve into half-moons when you smile. he drags a hand down his face. 

he needs to focus. he needs to not think about you. he needs to think about bones and hairline fractures and how fast the human heart can go before it—

law hears footsteps and he knows it’s you, beckoning you in even before you can announce your arrival and knock on the door. you swing it open, smiling brightly at him. gods, he swears you hold moonbeams in your grin.

“right as always,” you say as you close the door behind yourself. 

“do you need something? is it your arm?”

you shake your head. “no, just thought i’d check up on you. knew you’d still be up.”

law offers a wry smile. “no rest of the wicked.”

“i’d agree with you, but you’re not wicked, captain.”

law raises an eyebrow in surprise. he is wicked — it’s a known fact. everything he touches is destroyed eventually. when he doesn’t reply, you continue, “you look out for everyone, you’re a doctor for gods’ sakes.”

“so? bad people can do good things.”

your moonbeam smile falls and your expression turns stern. “you care for us, captain, all of us in a way that no one truly wicked ever would. don’t talk about yourself that way. ”

his heart’s in his throat and he’s desperately trying to swallow it down. “okay.”

you nod firmly and then bring your hand up to hide your yawning mouth. law tells you, “you should get some rest.”

“i came here to get you to go to sleep.”

“don’t worry about me.”

you cross your arms. “i’m not going to sleep until you do.”

law levels you with a stare and you gaze right back, unwavering in your conviction. you two stare for a good few seconds. he can see the way your eyes shimmer. it doesn’t seem that you’re backing down. law breaks the connection and sighs, “fine. let’s go.”

he puts away his books and papers and the two of you head down the hallway. he tries to guide you to your room first but you say, “nope. i want to make sure you actually go to sleep.” so you head for his quarters first. 

you come to his door and you say, “you better get some sleep. a healthy, well-rested captain is vital for an efficient and successful crew.”

“i know.” 

he basks in the comfortable silence that falls over the pair of you. then, you yawn again and he orders you off to bed yourself. you smile sleepily at him, your eyes form crescents again as you do so. “alright, i’m off then.” you turn and begin to walk away. over your shoulder, you call softly, “good night, law.”

he bids you good night and steps inside his room, door shutting behind him. it’s in there, as he’s changing into pajamas, that he realizes. 

it’s the first time you said ‘law,’ not ‘captain.’

your voice repeats like a record in his head. law. law. law. his heart thunders in his chest.

for the first time in a long time, law isn’t afraid to fall asleep. instead of the screaming nightmares he usually faces, he’s met with a different image as he drifts off. 

in a tender, hazy light, law dreams of you.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes #kaiijo's spotify wrapped event #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #op x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x you #one piece x you #trafalgar d water law x you #op law #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law scenario #law fic #one piece scenario #one piece imagines

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Commander, Sergeant

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army-FBI!reader

Summary: After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.

Warnings: incorrect Army terminology and actions, depiction of riots, fluff! a couple Call of Duty references. Also, I grew up ten minutes from Fort Rucker, so I'm allowed to trash talk it.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

When you joined the Army immediately after graduation, you didn’t expect it to become a career. What surprised you more was meeting Tim Bradford. You only met him once, but he stayed with you, a firm and commanding yet protective and loyal personality that was impossible to forget. Now, years later, you continue to think about him occasionally, hoping he’s doing well and happy. He inspired you to work through the ranks and do something more meaningful than just obeying as you’re told. Not that being a soldier and taking orders is unimportant, as you’ve explained to the troops you are now Master Sergeant of. Personally, you felt a calling to do more.

“Master Sergeant, Sergeant Major Riley is here to see you,” a soldier says, standing at attention in your doorway.

“I’ll be right out to meet him. Thank you, Private,” you reply kindly.

You are a different kind of Master Sergeant, unwilling to act higher than the men and women who answer to you. Your respect for others, regardless of rank, has made you a favorite on base.

“No need. Is now a good time?” Riley asks, taking the Private’s place.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Sergeant Major Riley?”

“There’s a developing situation in Los Angeles. If you and your team are up for it, I’d like to send you in to help.”

“Los Angeles? Who has jurisdiction?”

Riley chuckles, shaking his head, as he says, “I knew that would be your first question. Not ‘what’s the situation?’ because that’s boring, right?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“The LAPD called in military reinforcements for an out-of-control rioting issue.”

“When do we leave?”

“1700 hours. Tell your troops.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s everyone enjoying US Army Garrison Italy?” you ask your team, composed of twenty of the best soldiers.

“The men- the view is beautiful, Master Sergeant,” one of the female soldiers says.

“I’d have to agree. But we’re heading back to the States. There’s a riot issue in Los Angeles and they’ve called for the best to come in and help.”

“Riot control? Now, we’re talkin’, ma’am!”

“Los Angeles, California?” someone asks.

“What other Los Angeles is there, man?” a second voice replies.

You clear your throat, and everyone in the room snaps to attention. Smiling, you nod and confirm that your destination is Los Angeles, California.

“We leave at 1700 sharp. Helos are standing by. And before you ask, no, I don’t know when or if we’ll be back. LAPD is running point on this - listen closely, we are assisting. This is about the safety of US citizens. Not proving grounds or a test to become a Ranger. They’re calling the shots, but you still answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” your team yells together.

“Then let’s get out there and protect our home.”

As you leave, someone whispers, “I’m gonna miss Italy.”

You agree, but your job is about more than the view from the base. As you pack to return to California, you wonder if you’ll ever be back to Italy.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Master Sergeant. Thank you for coming so quickly. I am Sergeant Wade Grey, I’m Watch Commander of the LAPD Mid-Wilshire division,” Grey introduces, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Tell us where you need us, and we’ll be there.”

“We’ve got six teams out there right now, covering what we consider the biggest targets, but I’ll get you in touch with my lead Sergeant.”

“Is he in the field? We’d be happy to meet him where he is and take his direction from there.”

Wade sighs, a relieved smile appearing on his face. “You’re the best person in the state right now, Master Sergeant. He’s at the Wilshire Federal Building, the intersection of Wilshire and the 405. We’re running short on equipment, but we can get you transport.”

“Oh, we’ve got a ride. And, Sergeant Grey, feel free to drop the formalities,” you offer before telling him your first name.

“Only if you call me Wade,” he replies. “Wait- don’t tell me you have an APC parked outside my station.”

“We don’t. We have an M113 APC, a light tank, and six more vehicles waiting for a destination. You called for riot control, and we’re going to control some riots.”

“If you ever get tired of the Army, the LAPD would be happy to have you.”

“Unless you can offer me a station in Italy and as many armored vehicles as I can drive, I think I’m happy where I am.”

“Fort Irwin is scenic.”

You walk backward as you exit the office, tilting your head to the side as you consider. “Italian oceanside or California desert. Guess which I’m picking?”

“Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, sir- Wade.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment you jump off the side of the APC, two LAPD officers rush to you and your group of four soldiers. Splitting your team into five groups and sending one to join each of the LAPD squadrons seemed to be the best option. One of your team members introduces you to an officer, who nods and ushers you to follow him.

“Master Sergeant, this is LAPD Sergeant-“

“Bradford?”

Tim tilts his chin, his eyes the only part of his face you can see past his helmet and shield. You’d know him anywhere after countless nights of thinking of him and being inspired by him.

“Have we met, Master Sergeant?” he asks, his voice raised over the crowd gathering on Wilshire Boulevard.

Someone throws a flaming bottle of alcohol toward the steps of the building, and you motion for your team to push the crowd back.

“Later, Sergeant Bradford. Care to tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“LA courts decided to take a bunch of cases back to trial, deal with overcrowding, standard procedures. But… you get it.”

“Don’t want ‘em out or want to make sure they do get out. Yeah, I know the answer, though I’ve never understood the thought process behind it.”

“You and me both. What are we supposed to do to show them this won’t change anything?”

Glancing at the crowd, you weigh the options. “Realistically, getting violent is only going to make this worse. I’m not suggesting a negotiation, but… what if we try stopping?”

“We’re not setting down our arms and opening the gates for them to storm the Wilshire Federal Building!” Tim yells.

“Then what would you like to do? Stand here until the trials are done?”

“That’s not-“

“Look, I don’t want to pull rank but if you’re just going to stand here and argue with me, I will, Sergeant Bradford,” you reply. His jaw clenches beneath his helmet, and you offer, “Half of your men lower their shields, a show of good faith. Then we go from there.”

Tim lowers his shield, stepping toward you to threaten, “If anything happens to my men, it is on your hands. This isn’t your home, but it’s mine.”

“I understand how this works, Sergeant Bradford. And I’m not telling you to do it alone.”

You push past him, leading two soldiers to the front line, dropping your shield, and raising your hands. The crowd members closest to you stop, looking at you curiously.

“There is a court schedule available online!” you yell. “If you have a loved one that you would like to advocate for, call the courts, call their defenders, and tell them why someone is worthy of freedom at the proper time and place! But don’t risk your own freedom, don’t take the lives of your neighbors or your peace officers in the process!”

You signal for all of the officers to raise their shields again. As the crowd storms forward, you rush into the fray, letting your training take over as you disarm the citizens around you.

“Down on the ground!” you yell, panting as the tank approaches behind you.

At the sight of the tank, the men and women standing in the road begin kneeling, lowering their weapons, and raising their hands. The LAPD rush forward, doing their jobs as you send your team to give your orders to the other soldiers you brought back to the States.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” Tim says, approaching from behind you.

Turning toward him, you sigh and remove your helmet. “Lots of things shouldn’t work, Sergeant Bradford.”

“You know my name; care to tell me why?”

Pressing your lips together to hide your smile, you walk past him, calling over your shoulder to say, “Never expected I’d have a higher ranking than you, Sarge!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is the Master Sergeant here?” Tim asks as he enters the bullpen.

“She’s with her team, briefing their superiors.” Wade smiles before asking, “Why would you like to know?”

“She knew my name. I can’t place her though.”

“She’s Army, you were Army… think about it, Tim.”

“I met hundreds of people in the Army, Wade-“

“Not all of them stay in the Army and work their way through the rankings because you inspired them,” you say, standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem,” Wade says, adding your first name while looking toward Tim.

Tim looks past you, clearly trying to place your name.

“I met you my first year, we were only in the same room for a few minutes and didn’t say more than a few words to each other. But you inspired me. You were a good soldier, a better leader, and I wanted to do what you did.”

“And now you’re a sergeant?”

Smiling, you correct, “It’s Master Sergeant, Sergeant.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got a little drool right there,” Angela jokes, pointing to the corner of Tim’s mouth. “What’s so special about her?”

“She outranks me,” Tim answers.

“Okay. Lots of people do.”

“Yeah,” Wade adds from Tim’s other side. “You don’t look at me like that.”

“No offense, Wade, but you’re not as pretty,” Angela replies.

Tim shushes them suddenly, nodding when you turn and see him. You smile at him, yet again drawn in by Tim Bradford’s presence and leadership. His not trusting you at first, yelling at you, was somewhat unexpected, but you’ve been in his place before. Trusting people as soon as you meet them is difficult, often impossible in your profession, but Tim’s quick change makes you smile. You’re a good leader, like him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got a problem,” Wade calls, ending a phone call. “There’s another riot at Cal State Prison. LAPD and Lancaster PD can’t handle it alone.”

“We can never make it there in time,” Nolan responds. “It’s nearly 2 hours without traffic.”

“Now would be a good time to get a private jet or something, Thorsen,” Angela calls.

You pull your phone from your pocket, typing quickly before nodding. “I need Bradford,” you tell Wade. “And your landing pad.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks.

“Sikorsky X2 is five minutes out. We can get there and drop in 20 or less.” You raise a finger to point to everyone in the room. “This stays here. I’m not supposed to know the Army has one stateside.”

“Has a what?” Aaron asks.

“Good answer.”

“It only holds two crew members, but I’ve got a team out there that can ride in a cargo area. We’re going to need backup, so if you can get airships or anything, Sergeant Grey, please do. Let’s roll.”

Tim follows you quickly, jogging to catch up with you. “How’d you pull this off?”

“Somebody owed me a favor.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That I inspired you to stay in the Army, to get here.”

“Oh.” You push open a door and begin climbing the stairs quickly. Stepping onto the roof, you look at Tim and say, “Ask me again when this is over.”

Tim waits until you turn away to smile. He can’t believe he forgot you, but your sacrificial, mutually beneficial leadership style, kindness, and abilities, not to mention that you outrank him, have him practically wrapped around your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

Standing in the back of a helicopter and hooked to a rail, you lean out against the whipping air and feel weightless. The pain and concern of the day are wearing off, and as the sun sets, you’re glad you were asked to come to LA. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

Tim taps your side, and when he has your attention, he points West. The ocean is now visible, and the light ripples over the water, reflecting the pastel colors painting the sky. You smile at the view before looking back to Tim. Reaching up, you adjust the channel dial on his headset. He doesn’t even flinch at your sudden movement, and your smile grows as he leans toward you.

Looking at the soldiers behind you, you say, “If I think any of you can hear me, I’ll have you transferred to the worst base I can think of.”

No one except for Tim reacts, and he chuckles quietly.

“Okay, ask me again,” you request into your microphone.

“Did you really stay in the Army because of me?”

“Yes. You showed me what was possible, but your kindness toward me made me think I could do it too.”

“You could’ve done it without me.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Easy, Sergeant.”

“It’s-“

“Master Sergeant… when this illegally obtained helicopter lands, would you go to dinner with me?”

A soldier to your left moves, and you shake your head. “After this illegally obtained helo lands, and I have Henderson transferred to hot and humid Fort Rucker, Alabama, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Since you outrank me, surely you get paid better, so it’s on you?”

You lean toward Tim, pausing when your headset hits his. “I could also go back to Italy and see if anyone there is willing to take me to dinner.”

“Fine,” Tim groans. “I’ll pay, but only if you stay in town long enough to show me how much my inspiration paid off.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The dinner date does not go as planned. When you enter the police station, Sergeant Major Riley awaits you. He takes you into Wade’s office to talk, and Tim stands outside waiting for you.

Being a soldier means being sent to different places with only a moment’s notice, but being at your level makes things far more difficult and irregular. Tim may have missed his chance.

“Any idea what that’s about?” Tim asks Wade.

“No clue.”

You exit a moment later, your previous smile now absent. Tim tries to hide his disappointment, but he should have known getting into a relationship with a younger, yet higher ranking, soldier would never work.

“I blame you,” you tell Wade, stopping before him and Tim.

“What did I do?” he asks incredulously.

“You said there was an opening at Irwin, but you didn’t say that you only knew that because my Sergeant Major told you.”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Anyone want to loop me in?” Tim asks tiredly.

“I’m moving to California. Leaving Italy behind to lead a new force,” you answer sadly. “No more authentic pasta for me.”

“Wait- you’re moving to California? Irwin, which is three hours from here?” Tim interjects.

“It’s your fault too,” you remember. “I let you inspire me to be a good leader and a good teacher, but now I’m paying for it.”

Riley calls your name, beckoning you back into the office. The second time you exit, you seem a bit more pleased.

“Is the offer for that date still on the table?” you ask Tim. “Looks like my team is going to be in LA county for a few days before I can get discharged.”

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? You're getting out?" Tim asks, raising his hands in question.

"I'm receiving another raise in rank," you tell Tim, grabbing his extended wrist and pulling him toward the door. "But not in the Army."

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“Your form needs some work, but there’s potential,” you say.

“My, uh, my recruiter said that you take potential and make talent,” the recruit before you says.

Standing, you smile. “I like to think so. But I can’t do anything without your effort. So, are you willing to put in the work to do your best?”

“Yes, ma’am, Commander.”

“Then I only have one more question. Why do you want to join FBI special operations?”

“Commander,” someone scoffs from the doorway. “It’s like you take pride in increasing the divide between our ranks.”

Glancing over, you make a “shoo” gesture before finishing the recruit’s evaluation.

“Let’s go,” you tell Tim, gathering your things. “It’s been almost a year, and we still haven’t had an uninterrupted dinner date.”

“I’m not sure we ever will, Sarge.”

You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, brushing your lips over his before whispering, “It’s Commander, Sergeant.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie #the rookie abc #requests #fem!reader

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Heated Gaze (SAB/SOC One-Shot)

Kaz Brekker x GN!Reader 18+ / requests are open

Summary: Kaz likes to watch you play with yourself.

Fic type: smut

SAB/SOC: @the-sweet-psycho @midnight--raine (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kaz was a simple man who liked simple pleasures- and watching you finger your own ass open while he watched from his comfortable leather couch was one of them.

Saints, how he loved the sight of you splitting yourself open on your own fingers for him, squirming with the burn and the tug of the stretch. He adjusted himself slightly, feeling himself straining against his slacks. Leather-clad fingers clenched around the cane perched on his lap.

Calculating eyes dilated with desire watched your expression, enraptured by your pleasure. Kaz smirked slightly when you managed to slip another finger inside.

"Touch yourself?" You asked breathily, rocking against your fingers. Your hooded eyes analysed his reaction, heat shooting down your nerves and straight between your legs.

Kaz's smirk widened into a predatory smile. Not quite a grin, but not far off either. He leaned forward in his seat, eyeing you hungrily. Arching a brow, he questioned you silently.

"Please sir," you added with a whimper, cheeks flushing at the look on his face. You weren't embarrassed to be fucking yourself on your fingers on the floor in front of him, but when he looked at you like that- as if he could see into the deepest parts of yourself, well, that turned you shy. Kaz Brekker could take you apart with one look and he knew it too.

Kaz brushed his coat open and parted his knees, rubbing a hand over his clothed cock. You noted his nostrils flaring and knew he was just as far gone as you were. You chewed on your lip, desperate to see more of him.

"Get your toy," Kaz demanded, undoing the button on his pants and taking himself out. You rushed to obey, grasping your toy from where it was waiting patiently on the coffee table. Kaz rubbed some oil onto his glove and swiped his thumb over the head of his cock.

You rubbed your toy against your sex, enjoying the brief stimulation, though Kaz's predatory warning look snapped you out of it quick smart. You placed it by your stretched out hole and waited for Kaz's command.

"Rub that pretty hole for me," he said, eyes caught on the erotic display. You obeyed, rubbing the oiled toy around your entrance. Your brows furrowed slightly with the effort of not giving in to your desire to push it inside. Instead, you pushed it up against your entrance teasingly- just like you daydreamed about Kaz doing sometimes.

"Put it in," Kaz breathed, voice cracking with lust. "Slowly," he added in a more commanding tone. You obliged, slowly pushing the toy through the ring of muscle fighting with you despite your preparations.

The toy wasn't hugely thick, but it was thick enough to stretch and burn, and as you pushed it inch by agonising inch, you couldn't help dropping your head back. You felt so fucking full- felt so good.

The sound of wet skin against leather caught your attention, and you looked up to see Kaz working at his cock, one hand tightening against his cane and the other pumping his cock rhythmically. Pleasure shot up your spine at the sight. There was something so fucking hot about seeing someone like Kaz- always so put together- seeing them come undone. Watching them let at least a little of their guard down.

Finally, the toy reached as far as it could go, and a truly inhuman groan of relief escaped you. You felt so fucking full. You were aching to play with yourself- to touch that spot that set your nerves alight.

"Again," Kaz grunted, fucking his gloved hand, though his eyes were on yours, drinking down the sight of you. You nodded, whimpering slightly as you started to bring the toy back out of you. The sense of fullness waned, and you hated how desperate it made you feel.

Pushing the toy back inside, your control started to slip, moving faster. You groaned, eyes rolling back into your head at how good the rough thrusting felt inside you rubbing up against your walls.

"Fuck," you panted, grinding your hips against it. "So fucking full. K-Kaz- feels so good."

Kaz grinned, fire glinting in his eyes. You whimpered as he devoured you with that look alone, pleasure seeping through his features. He gestured for you to come closer and you shuffled towards him.

"Do you want me to finish all over your filthy skin?" He asked, bottom lip catching between his teeth as his cock jolted. "Want me to cum all over your pretty belly while you fuck your ass with that toy?"

You whimpered, fucking yourself harder. Your other hand crept down to play with yourself, not caring if he punished you for that later or not. His eyes blazed, and the pace of his hand matched your own.

"Fuck, Kaz- yes, please-" you gasped, fighting to keep your eyes from closing so you could drink in every single detail of his face.

"Fuck yourself harder," Kaz grunted, pumping his cock furiously. His jaw tensed as he approached his peak. You did as you were told, fucking the toy into your ass as fast and hard as you could manage what with your other hand working at your sex. God, you wouldn't last long like this.

"S-Saints- oh-" Kaz broke off into a moan as his seed spurted from his cock, landing on your skin. You cried out, knowing that you, too, were about to finish.

His spend dripped from your chest and neck all the way down to where your hand met yourself, and the ravenous, heated look mixed with the softness he inhabited post-finish were enough to send you over as well.

You roiled on the floor, thighs jerking as you finally finished too. Pleasure rode out across your body as your muscles went from tense to oh-so-relaxed. You felt your ass clenching around the toy, and you groaned as you started to slow your motions.

You were exhausted, ready to just collapse on the floor. Sweat beaded along your skin, making you shimmer before him.

"Exquisite," Kaz murmured reverently. "You're perfect."

You flushed alongside your breathy chuckle, still catching your breath.

"I think that goes for you too, Kaz," you replied, sliding down onto the floor and stretching out your arms. "Oh, fuck, that feels good. What would you say to ordering some food from downstairs to be delivered up here?"

Kaz put himself away and nodded curtly.

"I am hungry, actually. Stay there, I'll be back."

You reached for the wash cloth that you'd pre-emptively brought up with you when Kaz had told you to get upstairs earlier and washed the mess from your body.

It wasn't long before Kaz was back, and it wasn't long after that before your food was brought up, steaming and delicious. If there was one perk to being with the Bastard of the Barrel, it was the food.

You enjoyed a nice night together. Eating, then having a quiet conversation about your day. Kaz even managed to brush his gloved hand over your arm once or twice.

It definitely made the soreness you dealt with in the morning much more tolerable.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker fanfiction #grishaverse #grishaverse fanfic #the crows #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker blurb #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker smut #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #six of crows x you #six of crows fic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader

[evansonlylove]

okay then, well i like your kai fict and i think that you prolly wanna make some more. how about kai x reader where the reader want to be a dom so bad —doing a cowgirl or whatsoever, but kai enjoy slash jokingly or mock the reader about no matter how hard she tried she can never be the dom, so kai show her that he will always in charge. but anyway no pressure at all, free to ignore this if you dont want to okay? <3

i’m so sorry this took so long, i haven’t been doing the best and i wanted this to be good! i hope you enjoy it and get to see this. And thank you so much for sending this request in, i seriously appreciate you sending it in. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

don’t test me

Kai anderson x Female reader

summary: while out with your friends one night you hear about their sex lives, although what you heard shocked you. Kai had always been the “one in charge” and you liked it that way but something in you wanted to try and dominate him. (reader is a sub at first, tries to dom and kai puts her in her place) caring kai at the end

warnings: 18+, smut, degrading, slapping, aggressiveness, choking, p n v, no condom, spit kink, kai’s fixation on being your God. all that kai toxicity and smuttyness

bold letters are kai’s speach.

“Hi baby” you hear his deep beautiful voice come out of your phone as you put it up to your ear. Even while out with your friends you missed him, how could you not?

“Hi kai! can you hear me good?” slowly slipping away from the crowd in the bar you trip on your heels, you tried to act as a sober as possible so he wouldn’t know you drank a little too much.

“Yeah, yeah i can. did you see the time yet?” he says with a demanding voice, shit. it was past 10 and you hadn’t even noticed. You look back at your friends waving their hands at you to come back.

“oh, the time? i mean it’s still kinda early and i don’t go out often. Do you think i can stay a bit longer?” you put your finger up to your lips and bite your nail nervously, but it was true. You were a good girl, always obeying his rules and staying true to him and only him.

“hm. Okay fine but not to long, i’ll be waiting for you so no funny business” finally hearing him agree you smile, after all he was your ruler, him saying yes to you felt like a reward. Quickly you reply

“thank you thank you! i’ll be good i promise” As much of a tough guy as he was, you knew how to get into his heart. Your cuteness and even fake innocence always found your way into that man’s love.

“You better be. i’ll see you in a little okay princess?”

“mhm!” you reply instantly and hang up, practically running up to your friends who had a drink waiting for you

“I don’t get why you have to explain yourself to him y/n” one of your friends say as you sit down. Soon they all tag along in teasing you about your relationship “Like yea he’s hot but don’t you even just want to be the dominant one? not have to say where you are and do whatever you want?”

Their words take a while to sink in, you had honestly never thought about your relationship being opposite or different in any way. You loved being his little lamb and good girl, being owned and loved even if it was in his twisted way.

“I don’t know.. i like it the way we are. Plus i could never dominate a man like him.” you say as you sip your drink and start thinking about it, what it would be like to ruin him if you could. Ruin him the way he does you… maybe make him beg. Snapping out of it you finish your drink in one gulp

“I’d give it a try if i were you, i didn’t know i had half the kinks i do now till i tried it. but, Kai is definitely more possessive and all that crazy shit than all out boyfriends combined so it’s up to you girl.” she laughs as you shrug your shoulders and feel your phone vibrate. You read a message from who other than Kai ‘it’s been 30 mins y/n don’t push your limits’

“you know what? i’m gonna do it. it shouldn’t be so hard to dominate a man” you stand up and take a shot glass filled with tequila and down it all. “Wish me luck” you hug them goodbye and walk out the bar feeling like you were invincible. Obviously at the time you didn’t know it was the drinks talking.

‘calm down, i’ll be there in a few.’ you reply as you start your walk, luckily you only loved about 5 minutes away from the apartment. Playing music loud out of your phone, you loved this feeling and you had almost forgotten what it was like to have fun. But like clockwork there’s another message from Kai within seconds

‘just get home you brat’ you read, he wasn’t as mad at you thought he’d be. Brat was like a cute nickname he gave you sometimes, And finally you’re downstairs without even noticing. You take a deep breath as you open the door to your apartment, you see your boyfriend sitting on the couch watching TV. You always knew he was hot but seeing him after the talk with your friends at the bar made you see how bad you wanted to own him. Putting down you bag and walking towards him you straddle him on the couch and push him back.

“I take you by how you look, you drank a lot?” you put your hand on his chin and roll your eyes

“yeah? what about it?” you say as you kiss him roughly, moving your fingers through his hair. If there was one thing you knew about yourself getting drunk is that you get confident and horny. You start grinding against his cock, you smile into the kiss as you felt him get hard in his jeans. You didn’t even feel his hand make his way to your neck slightly choking you.

“And what makes you think it’s okay to talk to me like that-“

“shut up and let me fuck you for once” you cut him off as you slip your dress off through your arms, revealing your lacy red bra to him. You could see the anger displayed on his face but honestly you didn’t care, it only turned you on more. He starts to sit up but you push him back again, you knew he could break you in half if he wanted to so the fact that he was holding back from taking control meant you could do more. You reach down and undo his pants fast before he could even react. or do you thought

“Maybe you let the alcohol get to your head a little you much you fucking brat. You don’t fuck me, I fuck you” he grabs you by your waist lifting you up slightly as he slid your panties to the side. “Dont worry little lamb, i’ll show you who fucks who” he whispered into your ear and ran his fingers down your lips. In that moment you melted instantly, you took his cock out his boxers as you saw his eyes tell you to.

“Aw you’re backing down so fast? even more pathetic than i thought” he said before you could even gather words to say he jerked his hips up finally putting his cock inside your wet pussy causing a moan to leave your lips. One of his hands make his way to your back and take your bra off in a quick motion. After a few jerks up into you he stops

“didnt you want to fuck me? go on, try” your pussy was left throbbing, you knew you could never make yourself feel as good as he did but there you went being his obedient little slut and started riding him. Your thighs shook as you slid up and down his hard cock, you could barley keep the same rhythm.

“I can’t do it kai..” you let out a desperate moan, feeling pathetic.

“Oh you poor girl, it doesn’t feel as good does it?” he placed both his hands on your face caressing you softly before he slapped you across your left cheek, and holding onto your chin after. “look at me and beg me to fuck you, admit you were wrong. You could NEVER dominate me, deep down you know you love being my personal little toy.”

“you’re right, i cant and will never be able to do it like you. You own me and i fucking love it” you bite your lip slowly and place your hands on his shoulders

“Yeah that’s right you fucking slut” His hips jerked up to yours once again fucking you restlessly, your moans filling the room as you leaned your head down on his neck, moaning into his ear. “you love getting fucked till you can’t take it.. you.. love getting ruined by your God” he whispered between thrusts, driving you crazy.

“Oh my god yes kai, i fucking love it, i love you” you whimpered out as your legs began shaking again and your core tightening, your pussy throbbing around his cock. “fuck please let me cum please kai” his hands reached down to your ass, gripping you tight, holding you up so he could fuck you even deeper than you thought was possible.

“yeah you love it, i love you more my little slut but you can’t cum just yet” his free hand runs down to your clit as he rubs small circles around it just perfectly to overstimulate you. Your breathing gets heavy as you feel his cock throb inside you. “this perfect little cunt is all mine, you cum once i tell you do okay?” he whispers and kisses down your neck, his thrust getting harder and moans leaving his lips and into your ears.

“Fucking cum for me now” you felt your body give out as those words left his mouth, leaning completely on him as his arms go around you holding you close as he filled you up with his cum. “This cunt was made to take my fucking loads, oh fuck you feel so perfect when you cum around my cock” you feel his cum dripping out with your juices as he stayed inside you

“kai.. oh fuck you have no idea how much i love being yours. i love it when you mark my pussy with your cum” you whisper as he holds you in his arms, still not pulling out.

“I had to remind you who’s in charge, if i have to slut you out to show you that then i’ll do it a million times till it gets burned into your pretty little head.” he lifted your head up from the crook of his neck and kissed you roughly “And as cute as it was to see you try to even dominate me, don’t ever try that shit again. don’t test me.” his hand wrapped around your neck as he awaited your response “you got it?”

“yes divine ruler i promise” you said as his placed around kiss on your lips and lifted you off his cock with a groan going into your ear. you tried to stand up but with the alcohol in your system and your legs not working properly as your boyfriend had just fucked you like no other.

“come on baby i got you” he carry’s you in his strong arms, you let out a smile as he takes you to the bathroom. “let’s get you washed up, and get us ready for bed” you felt your heart melt, everyone knew kai as a mean stone cold person but with you he was different, you loved these loving moments you got with him. As he got you in the bath you tried to think of what you’d tell your friends tomorrow but quickly get distracted as he gets into the tub with you. his beauty always hit you as if it was your first time seeing him. “you’re so fucking beautiful you know that baby?” he says catching you off guard as you didn’t notice him looking at you the way you were at him.

“youre a different kind of beauty kai. one i could never be” this relationship was all you both could ever want it to be, you could see it in his eyes and he could see it in yours.

once again ty so much for this request, if anyone else wants to send more in i appreciate it so much! i hope this was good. - rain♥️

#evan peters #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #evan peters smut #ahs smut #tate langdon #kit walker #james march #kaiandersonsmut #smut #ahs cult #kai anderson x reader #rough smut #kai anderson x you #tate langdon x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #kai anderson x y/n #kaianderson

[melvisik]

Ok, we all know the Metatron needed Aziraphale and Crowley separated. It's a scene that’s launched a thousand metas and speculations like the Coffee Theory and Aziraphale Lied. So now, here's a slew of what are undoubtedly reiterations: There’s the distinct impression that Mr. ‘To-speak-to-me-is-to-speak-to-the-Almighty’ Metatron has gotten a little too big for his britches. Various reasons could account for this - maybe he thinks it's impossible for him to do wrong because he’s literally on the side of the angels. Or he’s been doing this so long hearing radio silence, he’s gotten into the mindset that the Almighty has somehow chosen to disappear, like that sense of all-importance when your boss has been gone for an infinitely long time and you’re left calling the shots. There’s also a tiny probability that Metatron has ‘vaulting ambition’… In any case, the Metatron is not shy about pushing the agenda, using anything from bribery to authoritarianism to accomplish it. He’s downright dismissive of Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael and condescending towards Muriel, people he knows he’s already got well under his thumb. With Aziraphale however, he changes tactics- bringing him coffee, the illusion of a hefty promotion, and throwing in Crowley’s reinstatement as the clincher. There’s been so many beautiful posts and analyses illustrating Metatron’s deviousness, describing his actions as exceedingly exploitive. There’s a high probability that he manipulates Aziraphale not out of the belief he'll be an asset, but the fact that Aziraphale and Crowley together is a liability. The music over that dark side-eye carries a foreboding implication:

The Metatron does not care for Crowley.

Many proposals have been offered as to why this is, such as the theory that it was the Metatron who cast Crowley from Heaven for asking too many questions. Or perhaps the Metatron doesn’t necessarily see Crowley as a singular threat, but his influence on Aziraphale is another matter? Or it might be their influence on each other that his heckles raised. We've all seen it - where Crowley was ready to bolt when his mistake was caught and Armageddon seemed inevitable, Aziraphale remained steadfast in his determination to stop the War. But when Aziraphale gets it into his head that following a cause blindly is the best thing to do, Crowley snaps him out of it. They accomplish their goals together. Looking back over it, the predominant thing Aziraphale and Crowley did to help stop Armageddon was give Adam the pep talk he needed to defeat Satan. Before then, the Metatron believed he had just another good little angel in Aziraphale, a featherbrained minion who did as he was told. But then Aziraphale was gradually tempted by a demon, not necessarily into doing wrong, but into disobedience. Perhaps that is what Crowley represents to the Metatron, and the Metatron needs to be rid of it. The mix up was an honest mistake, Arthur Young being at the right/wrong place at the right/wrong time. But, of course, who was the other party involved in that mistake? Who first got it into his head that Armageddon should be stopped? Who held time to give our heroes a moment of reprieve for that pep talk? What if all the angels suddenly decided they didn’t want to obey anymore, like Aziraphale did? What if they follow his example? What if they don’t want to fight? The Metatron's got to nip that rotten apple in the bud…

Heavens, we can't have that now, can we? "The point is not to avoid the war, the point is to win it." Well, that old chestnut didn't exactly work on Aziraphale, did it? The Metatron can’t order Aziraphale about anymore as if Aziraphale were a diligent foot-soldier. Both Aziraphale and Crowley have indeed gone native, adopting the most human thing of all: free will. Now, from a rudimentary understanding, neither angels nor demons can technically force a being with free will into doing anything. But they can persuade them one way or the other. Metatron knows this, and by god, he is good at it. Dozens of posts explain just exactly how he does this reaching right into Aziraphale's heart and fears. And in true angelic fashion, never does he even bother to acknowledge that Aziraphale " ...[doesn't] want to go to Heaven," or advise Aziraphale to consider what Crowley would want when presented with the opportunity to restore his ‘divinity.’ It's almost a parallel with Sitis - does she want to give birth seven more times? It doesn’t matter. “God” wants Job to be rewarded for loyalty, and Sitis was a conduit for that reward.

Another parallel between the story of Job and Aziraphale is an upstanding individual who staunchly wants to follow the Almighty's path, but he has a companion who’s more on the independent-thinking side - when something they care about is threatened, they acknowledge Heaven’s cruel treatment. The distinction here, however, is Job had the chance to speak to the Almighty themselves, not just the ‘mouthpiece,' and he had a decent pair of guardians looking out for him. Crowley and Aziraphale did the right thing by him and his family in keeping the children safe, while the other angels (and most definitely the Metatron) were content to let them die. It’s like neither angels nor demons (barring two… well, four now) have any concept of emotional connection. But the Metatron does understand connection, and for him it's a magnificent tool. He deliberately uses it against that once good little foot-soldier who’s gone AWOL. Not once does he try and convince Aziraphale that he’s strayed, but he maneuvers him into thinking that he and Crowley going back to Heaven is his own choice. Aziraphale likes doing the righteous thing, actually having an impressive work ethic when it's something he believes in, and what could be better than working as top boss in the Head Office of the Good Place? Aziraphale might see himself not only being the source of 'doing good,' but the one who can do the best thing there is and make changes for the better in Heaven itself. As discussed many times, the Heaven Aziraphale thinks he could create is the epitome of goodness, and, most of all, it can be a safe space for Crowley and him to be together. Aziraphale already assumes that this is what Crowley would want, and that Crowley’s retains ‘unhappiness’ as a Fallen due to no longer being an angel. The Metatron knows otherwise; not one person in the fandom believes he didn’t already know the outcome- that Crowley would say no. Again, there are so many brilliant posts highlighting why the Metatron had no intention of Crowley becoming an angel again. There’s the question if he even can. In fact, can the Metatron or any angel decide if an angel will Fall or a demon…er, Rise? That might present an alternative reason as to why Gabriel was demoted instead slated to Fall, because Metatron technically doesn’t have that kind of authority. In any case, it’s a ‘bluff’ that Aziraphale falls for hook, line, and sinker, and this time not even Crowley is able to convince him to stay. Now Aziraphale is driven by a cause he believes in, and perhaps he assumes that once he can prove to Crowley that he can change things in Heaven for the better, Crowley just might change his mind. By the same token, Crowley also might be holding onto that little shred of hope that Aziraphale will eventually come to his senses. It isn’t the first time the Head Offices have had them separated after all, and for all we know it’s not like it’s suddenly forbidden for them to talk to each other (though it probably won't be encouraged either). The Metatron, however, perhaps intends for the very opposite – to have Heaven change Aziraphale, which can only be possible without Crowley. Not that Aziraphale matters to the Metatron in the Great Scheme of Things (beyond his stubbornness being a force of nature), but at least he won't be fighting against the so-called Great Plan.

Then there’s the theories on the Metatron's motivations for this - for example, he could be concerned with how powerful Aziraphale and Crowley are together. And whether or not this popular theory proves to be true (though it carries a ton of weight), he can’t risk an interfering tag team preventing Armageddon again anyway; the Second Coming is approaching, and the Metatron is trying to be ahead of the curve this time. Gabe and Beez? Probably aren’t his top concern since they just want to run away from it all, not exactly the most active threat to the Great Plan. In fact, maybe the Metatron took into consideration the small chance that Aziraphale might just take Crowley up on the suggestion of going off together (prompted by the Archangel job offer in the first place), and the problem would be solved regardless.   It's also likely that the Metaron expects Aziraphale can be pressured or swayed back on board. With Aziraphale implementing that kind of determination on the side of Heaven again, maybe this time Crowley will retaliate or even abandon Earth altogether out of anger or heartbreak. Either way, the Great Plan will go forward. It's a win-win in the Metatron's mind. Game. Set. Match.

Edited for clarification.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #crowley x arizaphale #good omens 2 #neil gaiman #good omens spoilers #go2 #go 2 #go 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #david tennant #michael sheen #Metatron #derek jacobi

[thebellearchives]

𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : staring at Solomon you realise how lucky you are to be by his side and how much more time you’d like to spend with him

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, second part to blessed although you don’t need to read it to understand this one

‧₊˚ a / n : i was having a hopeless romantic moment and remembered that sol shot i wrote for @nnnneeev (‘: blessed was centered around solomon’s thoughts so i thought it would be nice to write mc’s thoughts this time! enjoy!

You look up from the book you’re holding. Across the table, Solomon squints a little as he studies the amount of liquid in the vial before pouring it in a small cauldron. The sight of him makes you instantly forget all of the words printed in the old book he lent you. You forget your surroundings, the question you were about to ask, the experiment you had been helping him with. Your eyes glide all over him, his long fingers reach for a flower and pick out three petals. His silver eyes flicker towards the book on his right side, double checking he’s using the right amount, and his pearly hair almost hides those beautiful irises from you.

Every little thing about him captures your attention, the way his long white lashes frame his eyes as he goes back to the cauldron, the ways he slightly licks his lower lip unconsciously. If it weren’t for those little movements you’d think he’s a figment of your imagination, but it’s the way his pupils dilate slightly when he uses a little bit of fire to burn the petals that makes you think that yes, he’s real. He’s alive, he breathes the same air as you and my god, it feels like a dream. He looks like a dream.

It’s not like you’d usually forget all that you’ve been through in the devildom, but when you have the chance to admire him you do. You don’t remember how you ended up helping him with this new experiment, how you ended up being his apprentice. One day you were living your life up in the human world and the next you were staring at the immortal sorcerer who had showed you more than you would’ve ever believed real. It’s a privilege, really, to have in front of you someone as knowledgeable and passionate as him. You could hardly believe he was who he was, or the position you had found yourself in.

You hadn’t lived as much as he had, that was for sure, but it was moments like this that made it all worth it. And maybe, just maybe, he thought the same way? Maybe he was finally content with the life his immortality had brought him to? It had been a long time since he said something negative about it, you had noticed.

He calls your name then, and you jolt a little, blinking repeatedly as he snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Are you okay?” he chuckles, his bright smile has you swooning in your head “are you having trouble with the book?”

“No” you shake your head and smile back “sorry, i just kinda zoned out”

“Yeah? What were you thinking about?” he raises his brows curiously, a little teasing smile curves the corners of his lips.

You remain silent for a second, trying to decide if you want to be honest or just play it off. Until you remember some words he told you weeks ago, and you smile a little too.

“Just that you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

You know you caught him off guard when his hands stop mid-air. His eyes widen a bit, and you notice the way his cheeks slowly start turning red little by little. He clears his throat, flustered, resuming the potion process.

“I’m… honoured you think that way, angel”

A warm feeling sits on your chest at his tender tone, and the blush in his cheeks makes you feel a little proud. You know he’s not as good at receiving compliments as he thinks he is, and you finally understand why he finds it so amusing to fluster you too. You knew it then: you’d never regret eternity if you could spend it by his side.

#; fluffy belle #obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #solomon x you #obey me solomon x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #gn!reader #gn!mc