#At the moment it was a needed bit of manic writing...

[inkstainsxxonxxparchment]

Entry 1.

Sometimes as a writer there are manic moments where things just...make themselves known. This is one of them...so a journal entry from an iteration of Helsing resurrected and stuck in a castle with Dracula. I write things in fits in early morning hours and it's based loosely on an RP with my incredible partner @thatdoodlebug. Might do subsequent ones if my writing demons inflict more...we'll see...

The candlelight is flickering as I sit here. To be honest, I do not know if this will clear either my head or the conscience screaming at me but I could not just let my mind hold so much that it feels as if I am going to go stark raving mad or come down with a headache from which I may never recover.  Let no one but me see these words and know of my weaknesses herein. I cannot express nor do I think I can hide the darkness that festers in the darkest and deepest recesses of my soul. And I truly wonder if I am, myself, beyond forgiveness.  There is no easy way to admit or to even write this without wanting to throw myself from the topmost window of this cursed castle that I find myself in once again. The why is not important only the truth which shames me even now.  I want him. Desire him, even. The fiendish host in this castle. The devil that stalks at night. The known pestilence of this accursed country. Count Dracula. I cannot keep from tensing even writing this as if any mention of him will bring him to this room for another conversation that I want to avoid. We are stuck here in this castle, in this place and neither of us can escape but I do not need him to know these truths.  That I see him and wonder what it might be like to succumb to baser desires. He is interested only in my blood. Fleshly pleasures are nothing he’d want. But I do. And that’s so much worse that I am having a crisis over such a thing and with a vampire no less. Where have my scruples gone? Have I had any to truly speak of? I do not know but what I do know is that I must cleanse myself of these desires. And if this journal that I will never let another soul see is the only way then that is how it shall be. Mayhaps at the end of all of it, getting it out like poison from a wound will stop the dreams, the wants, the shame that fills me. And then I can be free of all of it. And in that moment I will lay these blasphemies to rest in the flames of a fire where they belong.  Someone look after me and my soul in this accursed place because I know that no one else is least of all the creeping lord of the manor who has all but assured me that he will finish what we started if it is the last thing he does. And perhaps he will. At the moment, I just want to be able to converse and even argue without getting distracted by his mouth or his sculpted cheeks or…  …you see  my predicament do you not? When all my focus is on his features and not the situation. And I wonder what he might look like splayed on silken sheets; black or red would frame his pale skin perfectly and…  No, no! I cannot have these sorts of thoughts. What sort of man am I to be feeling as I do?!  I wish I could lay the blame at his door and I could convince myself of it I am sure but it would not be the truth in the end. He is merely the most appealing to that part of me; the desires that burn in the dark of night would find a figure of focus in one as deviant as he. Sometimes I wonder if he wasn’t molded from my deepest desires. And that is a troubling thought but one that I cannot fully take responsibility for if he has been a blight for longer than my own life. But it does make me wonder… And it is that curiosity that is no doubt going to be my downfall…but no one but  me and these lines will ever know the truth of it…and that may be the only mercy allotted at this time.  I think I hear him…so for now I will go and try to make small talk and ignore all else afflicting me like the worst sort of fever. Hopefully, he takes it as me still being uncomfortable in his presence… If he only knew…

[orcelito]

me struggling thru the generally happier chapter bc of Circumstances

i just cant wait to finally let loose. dig my claws in like i havent gotten the chance to yet in itnl. i wanna it

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[iris-qt]

𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

🪻 ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪻 ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

🪻 ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

🪻 ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ…ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ!

🪻 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ɪꜱ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴛᴏɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟᴍ…ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴇꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜱʜʏ, ʙᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ʙᴏʏ

Perhaps it was your awkward glances. Or maybe the way you’d do something silly like accidentally write the wrong year for today’s date then nervously survey the area as if anyone would notice. If anyone were to notice they’d have to be looking very closely…practically observing you. And that is precisely the gift Theodore Nott had been given as he was sat one bench above you in the DADA classroom his gaze directly hitting your paper and the side of your stressed and contorted face.

Yes this test was difficult but Theodore has studied incessantly for it. You see, Theodore Nott never studies but he had a plan. A plan that he chickened out on last minute.

The night prior he had been sitting in the library waiting for your arrival. He knows you arrive around 8pm right after dinner and quidditch practice. You were about to sit when Theodore Nott appeared in your peripheral with a slight deranged half smile on his face. His face rarely showed emotion but there was something manic in it at the moment per your mental Theo facial expression log.

“Hi Theo, you okay?” you lightly laugh as you see him stumble a bit.

Theodore mentally thanked himself for evading his friends’ questions as to where he heads off to around this time because if they saw the usually stoic Nott stumbling over his feet in front of this girl he’d never hear the end of it.

“Yes…yes I was just wondering if you needed some studying company?”

You smile warmly at him his presence itself warming you up from the cold you had just endure in the November night air while at Quidditch practice.

“I’ll definitely need someone to wake me up in case I fall asleep reading about the theoretical applications of non-verbal spell casting…you’re hired Nott.”

Theo smirks as he sits himself down a bit too close to you. He realizes in a panic and jerks back almost tilting over in his haste if you hadn’t steadied his chair.

“Theo, maybe you should cut down on those cigarettes,” you smirk as a light rouge paints his carved face.

Theo feels like digging a hole in the library ground and burying himself in it away from your hypnotic gaze but, at the same time, he cannot help but bask in it.

Initially his plan was working as he hoped it would. You admitted the things you didn’t know and Theo helped you brush up on it and quizzed you on certain terms. You both had even found some time to laugh and joke about things such as the drawer filled collection of ballerina hair gel Theo had found Draco hoarding in the “forbidden drawer”. They were both becoming comfortable and Theo lost his edge as he melted into your presence. Things went downhill after that as perhaps Theo became a bit too comfortable. As he was watching you read a portion of your textbook…your lips moving in slow motion and your eyebrows scrunched in the most adorable manner…he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath out:

“You’re so cute..”

You perked up as you couldn’t believe your ears. While your brain was immersed in the world of DADA your senses were in high alert within the presence of the boy you adored in silence.

“What did you just say?”

Theo at this point went into full lockdown mode as he slightly jumped exclaiming “I said you look like a boot!!” he blurted out as if that would salvage him in her eyes…her gorgeous, bright eyes.

You looked quite puzzled as you didn’t know exactly what that meant. Perhaps it was the way you had styled your hair? Or done your makeup? His sentence made zero sense and you weren’t quite sure how to feel.

Theo, however, had lost his marbles while he seemed expressionless on the outside his brain was short-circuiting.

“Uh…you know what I think I need to leave to um…use the loo? Yes I wonder what they put in that pumpkin juice because let me just tell you, y/n, it was NOT good…you think the elves are after me?,” he laughs nervously as he quickly slams his book shut attracting the attention of every student in the library as the sound echoes off the shelves.

“Merlin, where’d I get that strength!” he strains out with that same deranged, manic look returning to his face except this time in more volume. Before you could utter a word Theo scrambles out of the library. It takes you a few seconds to piece together what just happened but you eventually stand up leaving your things behind to find Theo. But once you reach the entrance of the library he was long gone…

You had spent a while pondering that occurrence and what he said to you. That night you had laid awake in bed. You were sure he had said you were cute, right? I mean obviously. Theodore had always been jumpy since you had officially met him that one day in 5th year in Potions as you two were partners. He was quiet yet endearing and you had fallen instantly. The only problem was your adoration for him had always felt like a dead end. As shy as he seemed Theo got around and to be fair you’d never felt like you had a chance…were you blind? No of course not. You were realistic…right?

And so we return to the day of the test and Theo who had finished 20 minutes early due to his vast knowledge he has filled his privileged brain with simply for, well, you. You were his everything. You had stolen the very air he breathed from the moment you slid in next to him in Potions. You held his breath captive and he simply couldn’t act human next to you. You loosened him up more than any of his expensive Italian cigarettes could. He was addicted.

After class Theo had begun his walk to his next class when he heard his favorite voice calling his name. God if he could only record your voice in one of those muggle devices. Mental note to buy one of those next time he secretly visited muggle London. He slowly spun around gripping his messenger bag for dear life for he could feel himself becoming light headed already.

“I think I had an aneurysm taking that test,” you laugh indulging in Theo’s dazed expression as it fuels your confidence. “I just wanted to tell you that you look cute..” you purposefully mumble the last part so that Theo could barely catch your words.

Theo’s heart soared and dropped and did somersaults all at the same time when he heard your words. “Wh-what?”

“I said you look like a grapefruit!” you yell falling into a fit of laughter as Theo gazes at you looking dumbstruck.

“I think this is the part I run away,” you quip raising your eyebrow at him playfully

“No I think this is the part I shake myself out of it and just ask the girl of my dreams on a date,” Theo breathes out attempting to recover from his actions the day before

You put your hand above your eyes as if shielding them from the sun as you stare into the distance. “Where is she? Can I meet her?” you bite back your laughter, gazing up at Theo’s watercolor eyes alive with the most tender of emotions.

Theo laughs shaking his head hesitantly removing your hand from your face and clasping it in his as if it were a rare jewel he has been searching for for decades and had finally found it. As if you were his life’s work finally accomplished.

“Look no further, y/n, she’s standing right here.”

[my-mind-is-incognito]

Wanna Duet? (Hugh Jackman x Reader)

summary: you're an interviewer sitting down with 2 of the hottest celebrities, both fresh off their latest movie. during the interview, one of them feels the need to shake up the script a bit

warnings: None that I can think of, other than intense yearning for an unattainable man (tbh isn't that why we read and write these sort of things anyway?)

author's note: Um, hi. It's been a couple of years since I've contributed to this site and this particular blog, other than reblogging other people's much more notable work. But the new deadpool movie, as well as Hugh Jackman, has literally got me hostage by the ovaries and I just needed to put this random fantasy into words and put it out there into the world. Please be gentle. I haven't written anything in years and it is so weird to me now.

When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there

In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

I wanna take you there

The lyrics to that familiar song softly tumbled from your lips as you studied the notecards in your hand while your shoulders softly rocked to the beat. You wanted to make sure the questions were etched in your brain; as a journalist tasked with interviewing celebrities, you needed to maintain your A-game when it came to these video shoots with the Hollywood elite. You couldn’t afford to stumble over your words or, even worse, have an awkward silence creep into the conversation. 

A knock at the door brought you out of your reverie, and Maggie, the producer, poked her head in. “They just arrived,” she informed you. “Ten minutes.”

You flashed her a thumbs up and got out of your seat to loosen your stiff muscles and fight the enormous grin spreading across your face. Today’s scheduled shoot was one you were particularly looking forward to: a simple sit down interview with two of the hottest stars, fresh off the premiere of one of the most anticipated movies of 2024. Somewhere on the premises, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds were waiting to speak to you, and your Marvel-loving heart was hammering in your chest in anticipation. The butterflies were certainly in hyperactive manic mode today. 

Maggie studied you with a laugh. “Excited, are we?”

“Aren’t you? We’re about to meet Deadpool and Wolverine!” You took a few deep breaths, channeling your professional side. But soon, the facade fell and you were grinning like a jittery idiot. ”How are they? Are they as ridiculously gorgeous in person?”

Maggie grinned. “Yes, plus super nice. Definitely making the top 10 nicest guests list. Hurry up and get out there.” She then left and shut the door behind her.

Biting back the urge to squeal, you took a few composing breaths and willed your heart to stop racing like a schoolgirl in love. Picking up your phone, you started scrolling your phone for a song. Singing was always a typical warm-up exercise for you; it helped you loosen up and provided an outlet for your nervous energy. Showtunes were usually your go-to songs, and you had a particular soundtrack stuck in your head for the past few weeks. 

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for,” you sang softly, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. “Been searching in the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor.”  Another hip wiggle on beat as you spun on your heel and held out a dramatic fist in the air. “And buried in your bones, there’s an ache that you can’t ignore, taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind…

Don’t fight it’s coming for you, runnin’ at ya

It’s only this moment, don’t care what comes after

Your fever dream, can’t you see it gettin’ closer?

just surrender cuz you feel the feeling takin’ over

It’s fire, it’s freedom, it’s flooding open

It’s a preacher in the pulpit and your blind devotion

There’s something breaking at the brick of every wall it’s holding

All that you know

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Where it’s covered in all the colored lights

Where the runaways are running the night

Impossible comes tre, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!

We light it up, we won’t come down

And the sun can’t stop us now

Impossible comes true, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!”

You blew out one more calming breath and grinned with confidence before striding out the door. Time to get to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So I’m sitting there, my brain melting in my skull from all these fucking hot wings, and the first sentence out of my mouth is ‘I CHEAT AT WORDLE!’”

You and Hugh burst out into laughter as Ryan recounted his and Hugh’s recent experience on Hot Ones. As expected, the interview was going without a hitch. Both men were excellent subjects, genuinely enjoying the process and providing laughs amongst the crew in between the Q+A. Their bestie banter and overall chemistry was so contagious that it brought everyone at ease. And also as expected, both men gave you the urge to subtly fan yourself with your notecards. While both had the leading man looks, Ryan had a dry wit and a delivery that was deadpan and entirely on point, never failing to get a laugh from everyone in the room. Meanwhile, Hugh had a megawatt smile and an Aussie timber in his voice that had you shivering in your chair, and his laughter was as warm and pure as sunshine itself.

“So, Hugh, you’ve mentioned how you were still doing Music Man when you were cast to return as Wolverine. Did the mental and physical preparation for this role clash with your preparations for your Music Man performances?”

Hugh chuckled. “It’s funny you mentioned that, because I had actually lost a bit of weight while doing Music Man. I mean, it’s eight shows a week and each show is a cardio workout like nothing else! So I had to start increasing my calories and, you know, pumping iron in between shows and it got to the point where I actually split my pants onstage during a show!”

You gasped while Ryan just shook his head and laughed. “Yes, the legendary Jackman ass returned, as jacked as ever!” Ryan snarked, which had Hugh guffawing. “Oh, easy there, buddy. No need to break a hip on top of that.”

You futilely hid your laughs behind your notecards, genuinely enjoying this experience. “Well, guys, this has been an absolute pleasure. As a Marvel fan myself, this movie has been long awaited and completely worth it. Any parting words you’d like to leave the audience before we sign off?”

”Actually,” Ryan suddenly interjected, shooting an offhanded smirk at Hugh, “I had a question for you.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Wait, really? For me?” you asked, confused. 

”Yeah, betcha didn’t see this coming, but yes, the tables have in fact been turned. The interviewee is now the interviewer.” Ryan crossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap, smiling mischievously. “See, I happened to be skittering around backstage, and whilst—“

”Whilst?”

”Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking, Hugh Bear. It’s very rude. Yes, whilst skittering back there, I happened to pick up on some backstage karaoke from a certain interviewer.”

Your eyes widened and you hid your gaping mouth behind your hand. “Oh God.”

“Do you deny it?”

“You heard that?!”

Ryan pointed an accusatory finger at you. “Don’t your DARE hide that angelic voice from us, ma’am!”

Hugh switched his focus between you and Ryan. “Wait, did I miss something? What’s happening?”

”Dude, get this. I heard her singing Greatest Showman in the back and she sounds amazing!” Ryan nudged Hugh before holding out a hand to you reassuringly while you continued to gape. 

“Is that right?” Hugh inquired, interest piqued.

You laughed nervously, shielding your face in your hands. In the back of your mind, you wondered if your makeup was good enough to hide the flush spreading across your face. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” 

“Please don’t confuse my enthusiasm for mockery!” Ryan was quick to say, holding out a reassuring hand. “Honestly, I had chills hearing you. Your voice is gorgeous! And clearly you have excellent music tastes due to your song choices. Seriously, I loved it!” Ryan gushed. “My question is, where did you learn to sing? Like, I’m literally jealous because out of the three of us sitting here, I have no musical talent whatsoever, and my singing usually results in children crying. But yours just sounds so good!”

”I wanna hear her sing now,” Hugh remarked cheerfully. “High praise from Ryan is definitely a good voucher.”

“Oooh, that would be so great, Hugh. You could audition her, because her choreo needs a little bit of work. Kinda limited, but I’m sure your rusty hips still got enough wiggle in them to teach her something.”

Both men laughed and leaned forward, their attention on you, and you couldn’t help but cower behind your papers and burst into another fit of panicked giggles. “I have no idea what is happening right now,” you remarked shyly.

Ryan got out of his seat and stood beside you. “Audition jitters, I get them all the time. Here, I’ll coach you through it!” He cleared his throat and adopted a more professional tone, gesturing between you and Hugh. “Alright, so you are at your callback audition. The casting director—obviously, that’s me—liked your stuff and now I wanna do a little screen test with our leading man—that’ll be Hugh.” 

At this, Hugh leaned forward and shook your hand warmly. “Hey there, I’m Hugh Jackman. I’ll be doing this scene with ya.”

You shot a quick glance at Maggie, who silently urged you to play along. So you chuckled and firmly shook Hugh’s hand. “Pleasure to be working with you, sir.” He replied with a warm smile that made your stomach somersault.

Ryan clapped his hands. “Alright! We are looking for some chemistry between our two leads. Let’s see, what’s a good duet song?” He eyed you expectedly. “I won’t ask Hugh, because the man is a neverending jukebox of showtunes. Now’s your chance to put a quarter in him and pick a song.”

You fidgeted in your seat, pausing to think before replying, “Okay, if we are going to do this, I just want to get this off my chest. Hugh, I am a HUGE fan, not just of your work as Wolverine, but your musical roles as well.” In response, he patted his heart and mouthed ‘thank you’ while Ryan rolled his eyes and made the yak-yak motion with his hand.

You continued. “So, if we could, and this is something I’ve always wanted to do…could we sing ‘A Million Dreams’ from Greatest Showman together?”

His eyes lit up and he nodded. “Yeah! I’d love that!” 

You practically bounced in your seat, shaking out your hands in pure excitement while a huge grin spread across your face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening!”

Hugh got out of his chair and gestured for you to do the same, which you did quickly. “Gotta make it like a real audition,” he informed you with a wink that got you giggling.

Ryan scooted his own chair back and sat back in it, much like a director overseeing a scene. “Okay, are we all good? Pay no attention to the multiple cameras looking at you or the lights beaming down at you, mmkay? It’s most likely nothing new for you. And…action!”

Hugh made a big show of clearing his throat a few times. “Sorry, I’m not warmed up,” he said.

“No one cares, Hugh.”

“And there isn’t any music.”

“Still not caring, Hugh.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

With the rest of the crew laughing, Hugh finally took your hand in his and, gazing into your eyes, began to sing:

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

Oh, a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

You were mesmerized by his singing. Listening to him on recording did absolutely no justice for him. Never in a million years (no pun intended) did you think this could be happening to you, that Hugh Jackman could be singing one of your favorite songs directly to you. You forced yourself to focus on your breathing and remember your cue. And when it came, you were more than ready to belt out:

However big, however small

Let me be part of it all

Share your dreams with me

Ryan was flashing you a thumbs up while the rest of the crew were cheering you on. Hugh was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself.

You may be right, you may be wrong

But say that you’ll bring me along

To the world you see

Hugh nodded encouragingly, joining in:

To the world I close my eyes to see

I close my eyes to see

He got down on one knee, clutching his chest dramatically as he still held your hand.

‘Cause every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

You grinned in reply and posed cutely in response.

A million dreams are keeping me awake

A million dreams, a million dreams!

As he shot back up, he spun you around, and the two of you both dramatically sang back to back, harmonizing on the final verse.

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

A million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

As you held that last note, you felt Hugh wrap his arms around your shoulders. Knowing your role, you smiled and leaned against him.

For the world we’re gonna make

The end of the song was met with thunderous applause from everyone on set, with Ryan being particularly enthusiastic in his clapping. “You got the part!” he exclaimed.

You laughed breathlessly as you and Hugh separated. You clutched your face, grounding yourself from the incredible high you were flying on, all while that silly smile on your face still shone brightly. 

Hugh clapped you on the shoulder. “Very well done!” he remarked. “I’ll be sure to keep you on call as my backup leading lady.”

“Oh my god, stop,” you beamed, still a bit breathless. “Karaoke is one thing, but I dunno about leading lady stuff.”

He smiled and gently kissed your hand. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he replied with a wink.

Maggie caught your eye from behind the camera, signaling you to wrap it up. Remembering your job, you quickly looked at the camera and said, “Uh, Deadpool and Wolverine is out in theaters now! Many thanks to Hugh and Ryan for joining us today!”

“Cut!” Maggie announced.

And thus ended probably THE most exhilarating interview of your entire career!

[joonieskinks]

She's it For Me (f)

Simon (Ghost) Riley x reader | fluff | around 900 words. short, cute.

AN: I know this isn't BTS, so you can feel free to ignore if that ain't your thang. It was just a little piece that finally got me back into writing after a busy couple months here. Enjoy some Simon Ghost Riley if he's your cup of tea too lol <3

Simon Riley threw his back against the wall for cover, hands manically preparing his gun to unload the next set of rounds. This was supposed to be an easy going mission, a simple fetch and return of some intel. No one was truly prepared for the ambush that came and unexpectedly landed right in the 141’s lap. Especially not Simon. 

But you certainly were. 

And that certainly was a surprise for the masked Lieutenant when you came whipping up to the wall he was against, blood splattered on your face, your arms brushing.

He knew you had a background in the field, some stealth operations… At one point you were a sniper for a couple missions here and there when a substitute for a man was needed - like today -, but you transitioned into the medic role pretty naturally. It was always your gift, tending to people and caring for their wellbeing. Not that you were getting any younger either, medic was a safe, secure position in the military and you enjoyed it. It was tamer than being out with the boys in action of course, but it had its close calls and moments. It just stuck, earned you the nickname “Stitch” and you made your way into the squad’s hearts. Took some warming up though, especially Simon. Of course him. 

You thought he hated you for the longest time, but Soap convinced you otherwise and you eventually learned that he’s just like that. And with almost everyone, but you appreciate who he is more now. The man you’ve come to know and love, much to his obliviousness. Even when you’re practically straddling him in his hospital bed trying to close a bullet wound to his shoulder, holding your breath at the proximity of you two. You’re shaking, you’re sweating, you’re looking into his eyes, his bare face for the first time, at his lips, he’s gripping his hands around your thighs and squeezing when the pain stings too much- Yeah, you think he still doesn’t get it then. 

But you can see he certainly does now looking at you in the heat of battle. Your hair’s pulled back into a ponytail, which flows into a braid. You’re in your tactical gear, a little bit of someone’s blood splattered across your cheek. You look up at him, watching him stare at you and your eyebrow quirks up. 

“You good, Simon?” He loves when you use his real name, gets him every damn time. He thanks God that he has his mask on or else you’d see the red blush overpowering his cheeks.

“Y-Yeah. Are you?” You smile at him, and all he can think about is how hot you look. Simon has always been attracted to you. He would jump at any excuse to touch you, to ogle you if he can, to be with you - especially when you were fixing up his wound. The image of you above him, legs spread over his abdomen, that’s something he will never forget.

It’s just now that he realizes nope, no one else can have you because you’re his girl. He thinks he’s felt this way for a long time, but seeing you like this when you’re normally the one doing all the healing instead of shooting - Well, he thinks this side of you has sent him over the edge into territorial mode. And you can sure as hell read him like a book right now, his body language and eyes practically begging you to let him touch you. 

“Simon, I think we should talk after this”, you touch the side of his mask slightly, looking up into his eyes. He’s not looking away and moves to bring his fingers under your chin, keeping your gaze on him. 

“I think we should do something other than talking too, love”. You let out a laugh at the implication. You can only bite your lip and nod, your hand dropping to his chest and eyes to where his mouth would be. He knew what you wanted, and he let his head bow down until your foreheads met. Simon tucked some of your loose hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek, your jaw and down to the back of your neck. He moves to bring his mask up just enough to expose his lips-

“God!” You screamed at the surprise, a bullet cracking against the wall just behind the two of you. Simon hadn’t even realized he had brought you against his chest, his arms wrapped around your body and bringing you two as close as you could with all your armour on. 

“We’ll continue this later, okay?” He said sweetly, before kissing your temple and moving around the corner, gun up and aimed. 

You smiled and gently touched the spot where his mask had brushed your skin, the kissing noise he had ever so slightly made echoing in your ears. You felt like a 10 year old at the playground, smiling after a boy again. But honestly, it filled your heart up with hope and even more love for the Brit. 

Maybe you should join them in the field more often if it means Simon Riley will swoon at the sight of you. 

// :)

[icedbeverageenjoyer]

🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺

🖤📺Mr. Puzzles' Fluff Alphabet!! 📺🖤

Hey guys!!! The moment I saw snakes-writing-corner's fluff alphabet I couldn't focus on any of my other stuff until I've made one on my own! It's surprisingly easier than the oneshots I'm used to-- but on with the fluff!!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is incredibly affectionate and always wants to pamper you with kisses and compliments! Though he only shows it when the cameras stop rolling and he's sure you two are alone.

His love language is words of affirmation, since there is no better way to express his love than saying it directly! You would think he'd eventually run out of things to compliment, but his vocabulary is vast and colourful, making you blush every time. He is also multilingual, so sometimes he'll sweettalk you in a different language only to fluster you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?) 

Since you are his partner (and thus, his only friend), you're already his best friend! But if you weren't dating he'd probably be just as chaotic. He will call you in the middle of the night and ask you for input on his scripts, oftentimes his voice doesn't get picked up clearly and you just hear garbled static with the occasional manic laughter.

Sometimes he'll just skip the phone entirely, break into your house, and put on a movie so you two could watch. If the sound of a door being kicked to the ground or the smell of perfectly cooked popcorn doesn't wake you up, him manhandling you and throwing you at the couch (not on, at) is sure to do the trick!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He is not used to people touching him or vice versa. The only times in the puzzlevision arc where he touched someone were when he was threatening Mario or fighting the crew, so he only makes physical contact when nessesary.

The closest thing to cuddling he would do is sit next to you and press his screen against your temple. It's not exactly a kiss, but more like him resting his head on you after a long day.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?) 

If you were to live in his studio together he would give you your own room and personalize it to your needs! He doesn't need to clean much since he almost never leaves his office unless it is to either pester the Smg4 crew or hang out with you.

If you two live at your place he'd be a little bit more organized and take on all the cooking. He has been the host for a few MasterChef-like shows, so he knows how to make a nice three course meal when you both eventually get tired of takeout. His specialty is breakfast, mainly pancakes, and he takes great pride in it!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

He would never allow himself to break up with you, and if you were to break up with him, he simply won't let you. Every time you'd try to explain that you're leaving him he'd either talk over you or just cover his antenna and pretend he's not listening, all the while still doing romantic gestures for you as if nothing happened. He is naturally stubborn and refuses to take any form of rejection.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) 

Almost immediately. He would throw a big, sappy wedding and show up in either the cleanest, most stylish sleek suit on the market or the biggest, most beautiful poofy dress ever made.

He'd record the whole thing in five different angles to get every detail on film, but he won't release it to the public. This special day will be for his eyes only.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Incredibly gentle! He doesn't touch you often, but when he does, his fingers are featherlight, and the cozy warmth of his old screen pressed against your face is always comforting.

He could get a little harsh sometimes and say things he really wasn't supposed to, but he always comes back and apologizes when things go too far.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

He is not used to them at all. Usually if anyone else were to hug him he'd kick them off immediately, but he's more patient when it comes to you.

He feels safe enough around you to let you get closer, but he'll be frozen stiff the entire time, not entirely comfortable with the pressure on his skin just yet. Still, every time you back away he'd insist he doesn't mind, and he means it, he appreciates every form your love comes in. And if you're ever upset, he'll wrap his lanky arms around you and just keep them there until you're feeling better.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 

In the early stages of your relationship he wouldn't actually see you as a love interest, but pretend to be interested so you'll fall for him and be there in case you were ever useful.

Soon, however, he found himself actually catching feeling for you. And after some inner turmoil, he finally confesses for real! After that, he would say 'i love you' in almost every conversation. At first he copied what he saw on television, he'd recreate every dramatic gesture and cheezy date, but it would always leave him frustrated for whatever reason.

It wasn't until you pointed out that he was acting instead of actually having fun that he started to slip out of his show host persona. Now his use of 'I love you' is much more sparse, but every time he says it, you know he means it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) 

Extremely. He is agressively passive-aggressive and if he sees anyone even looking at you in a way he doesn't like he'd immediately be onto them. He'd start off polite at first, basically telling them 'get out or I will throw you out' without saying it, but if they still don't get the hint he will grab them by the scruff of the neck and drag them out.

He would come back to you with a muffin from the snack cart and lead you away to show you his progress on filming the upcoming movie. You're not listening though, neither are you eating, the faint smell of gunpowder coming off of him immediately stumping your appetite.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are him pressing his screen against your face. He doesn't have lips, but his gentle electronic warmth is enough to linger on your skin. He loves kissing your face and hands, having them securely in his hold as he peppers you with kisses. He also likes it when you kiss back, especially around the wires on his wrists and neck, as it is one of the few places where he can still feel touch.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 

He's not really a kids guy. On one hand most of his shows are aimed towoards a younger audience, and he wants to introduce kiddos to the wonders of TV! On the other...he can't handle the loud crying and sticky fingers.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

At the morning you will wake up to the smell of freshly made breakfast before you feel him pulling the covers off of you and dragging you to the kitchen. He'd talk about his plans for the day while you're still waking up and grazing on your toast. 

He would then head to the studio, but not before kissing you and saying goodbye like a working husband going out for a long day at the office.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) 

Due to his upgrades and mostly electronic nature he doesn't need to sleep. Usually when you go to bed he stays up in his office, pouring his heart out on a script he'd likely end up tossing. Sometimes when he's lonely he'd quietly sneak in your room and lay down next to you, his screen facing you on a blank, staticy channel.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) 

He doesn't mind sharing his 'tragic backstory' with others, seeing it as just another selling point of his persona, but you seem to be the only one to take it seriously. The irreversible effects of long-term isolation had warped him into a charecature of what he loved most.

You try to make him see just how horrible his situation is so he can start to heal and develop a real personality, but it seams near impossible to get through to him. You can't fix something that dead and gone.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

Patience is not a virtue Puzzles acknowledges. The second something goes off scrip he will freak out and immediately focus all of his resources on fixing it. He craves control and if something doesn't go his way he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. When he is sulking in his office even the smallest little thing can set him off. 

Luckily, he seemed to have mellowed out after his defeat. When he gets worked up, instead of exploding and taking it out on the closest thing to him (he still misses his favorite remote), he simply let's out a long, tired sigh and goes back to work. Progress, you'd like to believe!

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) 

He has a very advanced database that he's already explained to you in detail, but you still can't grasp how it works exactly. What you could somehow get was that ever since his face surgeryupgrade, he has been able to record and play back everything he's seen in vivid detail.

He has special folders of where he stores information and one of them is entirely dedicated to you. Every single interaction or passing glimpse is recorded, and sometimes when you're away for a while he likes to play them back and just listen to you talk.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) 

Probably when he realized you were more important to him than everyone else. It was before you guys started dating. He was in the office repairing his hand after a loose prop fell on him, but he couldn't lock the mechanism in place with just one arm.

It wasn't until you walked in and offered to help that he finally let you touch him, albeit only his non-feeling, motionless palm. When he was done he muttered a quiet 'thanks' and began readjusting the fiberglass plates.<

"No problem, that's what friends are for, after all."

That was when it really sunk in. You guys really were acting just like friends. And it wasn't a staged act or anything, it was all just natural interactions. He had to rationalize it in his brain for quite a bit after that. Were you really friends, or was that just a passing remark? No, you actually meant it. Would he consider you for a friend to begin with...yes.

And so it was official. The day he gained his first friend.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?) 

He has never felt the need to hire bodyguards, since his pointer finger alone is considered a highly lethal weapon, not only that, but he has complete control over the studio. So if anyone ever tried to break in, he'll just snap his fingers and have a heavy piano prop crush them.

That being said, he is your personal guard dog and will absolutely snap someone out of existence if he feels you are being threatened. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) 

Puzzles is a tryhard in every way the word could be interpreted. When he figured out there's more to a relationship than surface level romantic cliches, he began to put more thought into what he gifts or what dates he takes you on, wanting them to be just perfect for you! 

Just like the shows he directs, most of them are hit or miss, but he puts his soul into every single thing he does for you, and you'll always treasure that!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His smoking and temper. He's a chain smoker, having one every odd day on good weeks, and blowing through a pack on particularly rough ones. 

For his temper, he usually has a specific set of rules before blowing up. First - try nicely. If that doesn't work, try again, but a bit more sternly. If that doesn't work, try again, but this time make it a clear, threatening warning. And if that doesn't work either, just brainwash them into complying.

You have gone through most of those stages at least a few times, but not the last one. At least, not that you remember. Maybe he figured taking control wasn't worth the trouble, or he was so frustrated that he didn't want to deal with you anymore, but you did notice his patience has been improving, especially when it came to you. Maybe all those therapy sessions you dragged him kicking and screaming to were working!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Looking as nice as possible is a must, especially if it is to impress you! He obsessively fixes his puffy arm sleeves to fold just right, and if there's something wrong with his current outfit like a stain he hasn't noticed or a crease that won't go away he will just replace the entire outfit with a new, completely identical one. </p>

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. No matter at what stage of the healing journey he's in, you will always be a big part of his world. If you go, he loses his partner, his best friend, his co-director, and everyone he's ever loved. He'd be left alone, as he always was, with his TV. . .And for the first time in forever, he'd grow to hate it.

X = Xtra (Random HC) 

While it was his lifelong dream to work in the creative field of television, Mr. Puzzles is not a creative person. He's more of a businessman than a director, creating several successful tech companies for the sole purpose of funding the studio, despite the low ratings. 

Low ratings which are caused by his complete inability to be original, pulling plot points from other established classics and writing them in with his own, stiff, awkward style of storytelling.

He speaks every language ever shown on TV, is fully able to perform invasive surgery without any risks, knows the copyright laws so well, he might as well be a lawyer, had a hand in engineering and programing his body, and has definitely done some less than legal things to get where he is today in the industry. And yet the thing that stumps him is actually being creative.

Y = You (How would they talk about you?)

Your relationship with him is one of the very few things he wishes to keep in his 'private life', so he doesn't talk about you often, mostly just quickly mentioning you when he explains his absence. "Ah, so sorry for depriving you all of my presence, my lovely partner wanted to watch 'Food fight' for the first time and I simply HAD to intervene!"

". . .who invited y-"

"ANYWAYS back to the show!-"

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) 

He has a powered down mode when he recharges. Before going in that mode he'll go to your room and lay down army style on your bed, but by the time you come home you'll see him  sprawled out on your bed, one foot on the pillow, the other dangling from the edge, with his screen displaying the puzzlevision logo bouncing off the four walls of his monitor.

Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!!! 💕💗💞

[starlightdreaming]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 4!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content warning: more blood! *Niffty’s manic laugh* i guess maybe some comfort this time (not from Lucifer lol) also more angst but a smidge bits of it, also LONGESTT CHAPTER YET and small implications of Season 1: Ep. 2 of Hazbin Hotel. (not proofread)

Synopsis: after waking up in hell, you try and find help of any kind.

Further note: I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER SMM U HAVE NO IDEA (sorry it took a while) ENJOY READING MORE THAN I ENJOYED WRITING I!!/! - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 5

this chapters song is:

(optional but recommended to improve reading experience!!:!)

｡･:*:･ﾟLululuna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

“Lucifer, do you want to play with the stars with me?” You ask him, him turning to you and taking your hands into his, him looking at you with loving and caring eyes, you looking deeply into his as well, “I’d love to!” He says, dragging you to the oak tree you had agreed upon to be your hangout spot from now on.

You both rolled into the grass together, told stories at night and used magic to display your dreams of creations, everything was perfect, he was perfect, everything felt perfect.

“I never want to see you again,” He snapped, “And I fucking mean it.” He says as he looked at you with pure hatred in his eyes, oh those eyes, once full of love now full of hatred. Your heart began to beat harder as it ached, ‘this whole mess was your fault wasn’t it?’ you thought as your breath hitched, staring at those eyes he gave you, oh how you never wanted to see them again but here you were. You tried to breathe again but you just couldn’t, those eyes were staring deeply into your soul, you just couldn’t find a way to breathe as you began to hyperventilate, your body felt frozen in terror as you stared back into those careless, dull, hatred fueled eyes, breathe, breathe, breathe!

You sit up quickly, coughing out golden blood before gasping for air desperately, coughing out again before regaining your composure, groaning from the metallic taste in your mouth, you looked down at your hand to see the lavender blue star Emily gave you, seeing that was your only comfort now, it was stained in gold blood as well as you winced in sharp pain behind your back, you look at your back to see a lot of damage was done to your wings, golden blood covered all your feathers as you can see the clear cut Sera did, she attacked your two middle wings as they now seemed split, it made your skin crawl from how horrible they looked, you then looked up to the sky, your stars were barely raining anymore stardust, trying to heal your injured state, they began to fade, if it weren’t for the sentient stars you made during the extermination, you don’t think you would have survived the fall.

You looked at your stars with a tired and weak smile before they could crumble away into dust, thankful that your creations saved your life, you then looked at your surroundings, seeing cities in the distance, followed with screams and cars crashing, you sat for a moment trying to endure the pain that was coursing through your body, you held a wing to ease the pain but all you felt was a wet liquid that now covered your hands, more blood. You needed to find help or something but who in Hell would want to help? Maybe you could try and find a place to stay or hide so you could focus on healing yourself, you didn’t have any attributes to regeneration, so you needed to try and find someone or something to stop the bleedings.

You recovered a bit of mana from resting but it wasn’t enough for you to completely focus on healing since you weren’t very good at it, you decided to try and finally get up but your body was so sore you stumbled a few times before you could manage to even stand, you slouched to your side, limping as you tried to walk out of wherever you even were.

You decided to try and seek help in the city, hoping there might be a blessed heart willing to assist you but just a precaution, you made a little bit of stardust and with Emily’s star she had given you, you made it sentient with the little bit of mana you had left, thankful for her gift and her warm comforting smiles.

The little star chimed to life, floating around you, it was your only sort of defense it wasn’t much but it can for sure pack a punch you wanted it to, you hugged yourself as you limped toward the city, a trail of golden blood dripping behind you as your wings dragged behind you. The lavender blue star floating next to you calmly.

Upon entering the city, you expected monsters and sinners to be in chaos but… no one was here. “Hello?” You called softly, walking into the city, the emptiness making you feel uneasy, the star chimed next to you for comfort, floating around you as it kept watch of your surroundings, “Is anyone here?” You called out again more loudly, “please, can anyone help me?” you begged, not receiving a single answer in the abandoned city.

You held yourself more tightly as you walked, leaving a trail of gold as you looked around, high and low, left and right, you’d hear a sudden noise but it the source or cause would be long gone before you could turn around, I guess it only makes sense seeing as you were an angel and it was extermination day to them, the lonely and uncomfortable silence made you feel like an outcast, something you were used to in a way but it still hurt nonetheless, tears formed from your eyes but you tried to not let them escape from how lonely you felt in your situation and once again, you feel completely helpless as you walked down the empty streets, the silence was completely loud.

You wiped your tears as you passed by stores, broken glass and blood, it really showed a difference between Heaven and Hell, it made you wish you were back in your bed for all eternity, it was better than the pain your were enduring currently. You passed by a store full of televisions, you looked at it- it being the only thing that was making noise in the silent city, you watched the screens as it showed a thin waisted lady in red, her voice loud and clear, “Greetings, my name is Katy Killjoy, here to discuss to you about last weeks extermination, after deep analysis and investigating, we can officially confirm it was canceled thanks to an none other than an Angel itself!” She says before it showed a video of you making it rain stardust in stars in Hell’s skies, dragging every exterminator back into Heaven, your eyes widened as you didn’t expect to be shown to all of Hell.

“And thanks to that, we now have more information about how our deadline is cut in half, down to six months! do you know what that means Tom?” She says as she turned to face him, giving him the chance to finally speak, “yes it-“ “it means we are completely fucked!” she shouts through the screen, your mouth agape from shock, Adam and Sera- despite trying to stop them, they decided to continue this meaningless chaos? the thought of Sera ignoring your words, your voice, it made your blood boil unexplainably, especially on how she tried to kill you behind Heavens back.

You were so frustrated and in so much pain because of her, it made you want to cry and lash out at her angrily but trying to kill her back, the thought of killing her made a smile crawl to your face but you shook that thought out immediately, it was not the answer. If you tried to use violence like she did, you were no different than her and that’s worse than the thought of her death. You snapped out of thought to look at the television again, it was another video of you, of how you fell from the sky, you stared in shock again, they really have their eyes on the skies don’t they? It was you falling practically to your death! but that made you realize, oh- they evacuated the city because you arrived.

That alone, made you realize how lonely you are now, no one was going to help you, familiar feeling eh? history just doesn’t seem to stop repeating itself with you. Your head began to ache as your stomach grumbled, all that stamina you had used was getting to you for sure now but there was nothing you could do, you didn’t have food, shelter or any help, there was nothing here in this place of damnation for you. You were pathetically helpless, at rockbottom, completely.

You wiped the tears that escaped, your lavender blue star pressing against your cheek for comfort, it chimed to you, trying to tell you something, you gave it it’s attention, floating toward the window full of televisions, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where all sinners are welcomed and redeemed, if you want to escape the extermination and get up into Heaven, please head to the building on the top of the hill in the pride ring.” A White haired woman spoke, with other figures who stood there and a glitched out man who was facing away from the screen which was quite concerning- but that wasn’t important, what was important was that they were willing to help and once again, that small sliver of hope reignited in you as you smiled to yourself weakly, you just had to go find that hotel, if they didn’t accept you then… maybe you could just live in a box? that thought made you shudder, not the box but the fact you would be out of luck.

You tried to find the hotel, quickly limping down the streets as you tried to find that said hotel, “Can you help me find it?” You ask your star as it chimed, swiftly floating up in the air, looking around, it wasn’t long before it went back down to you and started guiding you as followed, gold blood still following behind you, you tried your best to keep it together, try to make it to the hotel, it wasn’t much long as you panted heavily up the hill, once upon making it, you collapsed in exhaustion and pain, you sat at the door for a moment to recollect yourself.

It took awhile but the sentient star waited with you patiently and that was enough for you to get back up on your feet, you took a deep breath before knocking, stepping back from the door, hugging yourself in anticipation, shaking a little from exhaustion.

The door opened and you saw a tall blonde female, she looked down and gasped in surprise, “Welcome!- oh- oh my gosh, are you alright?” she says quickly, cutting her introduction off after seeing your terrible state, “Is… this the Hazbin hotel?” you ask politely and kinda desperately, “Yes, yes this is! do you need uh, do you need to come in for a moment? theres a trail of blood coming from you.” She pointed out with concern, “please.” You say weakly and nervously to the stranger in front of you, feeling completely light headed from the blood loss, you felt like you were going to faint any second.

“Oh goodness, just sit here for me okay? I’ll go get something real quick-“ she stammers before running back inside after making you sit and lean on to the door, you waited as you heard the same voice shout “Vaggie!” and “Emergency!” You rested your eyes as you leaned your head against the door, you began to hear static, and it got only louder the longer you had your eyes shut but as soon you opened your eyes the static disappeared, ‘that was weird’ you thought as the tall lady came back and immediately tended to your wounds with another person behind her, you backed away when the blonde tried to touch you, “Oh don’t worry, i’m just trying to help.” She says as she waited for your permission this time to tend to you, her smile was oddly calming and it let you give in as you slowly turned your back, allowing her to touch your wings, the purple female also assisting her, you winced in pain after some places they touched, a “sorry” escaping one of their mouths as they kept going, you all were silent the whole time before the blonde moved to sit in front of you, leaving the other lady to focus on your wings.

“My name is Charlie.” She smiled at you, reaching her hand out for you to shake, you looked up to her, her red eyes staring back at you, “Y/n.” You say as you took her hand to shake, “Nice to meet you, Y/n! Now if I may ask, why were you so injured?” She asked, you looking away, “Oh uhhh, I fell..?” You say not tell her the full truth, she tilted her head confused, “fell? fell from where?” she said confused, “Uhhmm, fromm.. Heaven?” You laughed coyly, as she gasped, “You’re fallen?” She says quietly, “I guess,” pausing now acknowledging that you were actually fallen now, “yeah, I guess so.” you finished, feeling a little ashamed.

“Vaggie, are you almost done?” Charlie asks as she looks over your side to see that she wrapped your last wing up, a tug was felt and you winced a bit, “Yup, finished.” She says after she tied the last knot, Charlie bend down to help Vaggie up before they both helped you up, “Thank you.. for helping me.” You say with a tired smile, your star bouncing on your head, “Oh who’s this little guy?” Charlie says pointing to the star that chimed, “Oh this one of my creations or like a child of mine, same thing.” You say as you put the star in your hand, “I could only make this one sentient because im so tired.” You say, your eyes obviously showed that to them, black circles and all, “Well we can give you a place to stay in the Hotel!” Charlie smiles as she walks in the building, you following after Vaggie but as soon as you stepped into the building, your exhaustion you endured collapsed all at once, making your face plant into the ground with a ‘plomp’

The stared at you in surprise, “Oh, she was that tired.” Charlie responds, walking up to you, “are you alright?” she asks as you just muffled a reply, “foof.” “Uh, what was that?” Charlie asks, turning you to the side, “food.” you say, falling back into place, “Oh, okay just one sec.” She says before getting up to running off, leaving Vaggie to watch over you, she crossed her arms as she stared at you, “So uhh, who’s dis?” A new voice spoke, “Fallen angel, probably same one from the extermination on the news.” Vaggie replied as someone spat out their drink of something, you didn’t bother to get up to look up who was talking, too tired to care, “the hell you mean the angel from da news?” the voice shouted as you heard something rapidly approaching your body but your tiny star pushed them back, launching whatever was going after you, “That thing just launched Niff across the parlor! why are you allowing angels into this place?” The voice shouts again, “Angel, look at her, she’s defenseless, well, except that thing.” she pointed to your star.

Your star stuck to your back, trying to move you but it ended up just dragging you across the floor as everyone silently stared, “Okay i’m back!” Charlie says with a plate of food, walking to you and giving it to you after your star dropped you to the floor again.

You raised your head, resting your arms as you ate on the floor, not caring who’s watching, she also gave you water and that made you feel all the more better, with something finally in your system you managed to sit up, looking up at your surroundings, seeing everyone stare at you in silence, “uhh, hi.” you say awkwardly, with a small wave, as one of then waved back at you.

“Are you feeling alright now?” Charlie asked as you nodded, “Yeah, I just really need to rest, if you would let me please?” You ask as she gave you a hand to help you up, you thanked her as you tried to pat down your tattered dress, it was completely stained with blood from sinners during the extermination and your own as well, “Maybe let’s get you cleaned up?” Charlie asks as she took your hand to help you up the stairs, Vaggie following, “We can introduce you to everyone else once you’ve recovered.” She offers as she guides you down a hall, taking you to a room that was themed with red and black, “you can rest here,” she says as she walks into the room, you following suit along with your star.

You sat on the bed before falling back into it, your sore body finally feeling that euphoric comfort of a bed for who knows how long, your small lavender blue star rested on your head as you stretched a little, feeling your muscles ache, it hurt so bad it felt so good, “Do you need spare clothing or anything?” Charlie asks, Vaggie standing at the front of the door to the room, “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” You say shyly, sitting up again, you weren’t used to such hospitality, “thank you.” You say genuinely, extremely grateful that you found this place in this upside down world, “It’s no problem, you just get some rest alright? Vaggie can you go get something from my dresser?” She says, Vaggie nodding and leaving the room.

“So, can you tell me what happened? about why you’re here perhaps?” She questions, trying to start a conversation in the meantime, waiting for Vaggie to return, “Oh.. that..” you say looking down, away from her gaze, “oh! you don’t have to tell me anything if you want to,” she says, seeing how your expression has changed, “no, its just- it’s kind of a lot? I’ll just cut it short.” You smile at her, waving off her sudden intrusion of a question, “long story short, I asked for for a job and my, err, ‘manager’ gave me one,” you say scratching your cheek, the thought of Sera made you itch, “it was the extermination and I was so shocked on how Heaven was allowing the people to slaughter, so I used up so much of my power to drag every exorcist back to Heaven, leaving a bit of healing, hoping some sinners would recover,” You say as you as you rub your shoulder, still feeling guilty about the lives you witnessed being lost from the angels attack, “I’m really sorry about that by the way,” you apologized on behalf of the angels, “I tried to talk to my leader and it just got.. messy.” you sigh, Vaggie walking back to the room with clothes in hand, Charlie held your hand into her own, making you look up her, her comforting and sympathetic smile made you feel at ease from your riled up stress and tension, “hey, its alright,” she says, trying to soothe your nerves, “i’m just surprised an angel actually went out of their way to stop the extermination, it’s a complete first for anyone in hell to witness,” She smiles again, “i’m really glad you did, it shows that maybe not all angels are as bad as they seem.” she finishes, Vaggie walking up to you both giving, putting the clothes next to you, on the bed.

Charlie stood up, taking Vaggie’s hand into hers, “We’ll leave you alone for now, feel free to join us when you’re ready.” she waves as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

You got up from the bed after she left the room, changing out of your tattered dress and robes, the clothes they gave you were kind of big on you, the shirt was maybe too big, it was like a short night gown on you but you weren’t complaining since it was comfortable, the pants didn’t even fit so you tossed them to the side along with your tattered dress, wanting to deal with it later, you jumped into the bed, sighing in relief again, you laid on your stomach as you hugged the the fluffy pillow, the coolness of the sheets making you feel relaxed, best feeling ever.

Your star chimed as it floated off your head again, it was telling you it was going to keep watch as you slept, that was enough for you as you quickly drifted off to sleep, hugging the pillow as comfort.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

“look at that one, it looks like a duck!” Lucifer says under the oak tree, pointing to the clouds that drifted by, “Yeah, it does!” You say in awe, “that’s cause I made it be.” he giggles, showing you his pure golden light in his hands, you admired it as you giggled as well.

He laid in the grass as he continued to stare at the sky, his smile was so pure and full of life, “I’m so glad you came into my life, Luna.” He says before looking at you with adoration in his eyes, you stared back at him with a sparkle in your eyes, sitting up next to him, “everyone in my life thinks i’m a problem and avoids me cause of that,” he vents, looking back up at the blue sky, “and ever since you came along, everything just feels so… right.” he smiles, as you continued to stare at him with doe eyes, “I don’t think I could ask for anyone better, you are the first person to believe in me and my dreams for so long and I don’t think I want to lose you,” he says, sitting up and looking back at you, taking your hands into his own, “ever.”

You smiled at him comfortingly, “I don’t want to lose you either, Lulu.” you say as you look back into his eyes, you both stared into each other’s eyes, the silence between you was calm and comforting, “hey I know!” he says, brightening more from an idea, “lets make a promise,” he says, leaning closer to your face, “let’s promise each other that no matter what happens, we will stay together, we will help each other out in the time of need.” he says, pulling out hand in front of you, his pinky finger out, waiting for you to intertwine your finger with his.

You look down at his hand, back to him, you smiled more, “okay, I pinky promise.” you say as you brought your pinky out to hold into his, you both stared at each other with admiration for one another before he quickly pecked your forehead, leaving a warm kiss, your eyes widening in surprise at the sudden gesture, “I love you, my Luna.” he says, you felt your face heat up as he gave you a closed eyed smile, it became silent for a moment again before you spoke, “what’s a love?” you ask, breaking the silence as he looked at you bewildered, going back to smiling at you gently, “maybe one day, you’ll understand.”

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Your eyes fluttered open, as you groaned from a nights rest, you laid there for a moment before sitting up, groaning from the soreness in your body, you rubbed your eyes as you looked around, beginning to remember where you were. Upon waking up, your lavender blue star chimed as you awoke, happy to see you awake, you put your hands together for your star to rest in your hands, “oh, hey there,” you smiled tiredly, as it floated down into your hand, your used a bit of your mana to make cosmic dust, feeding the little star as it began to glow brightly again, after feeding it, it went to rest on your hair, seeing as your aren’t completely defenseless anymore.

You say in the bed looking around again before turning to your dress, it wasn’t filthy or dirty anymore, it looked clean and new, curious, you shifted out of the bed and went to collect it, they must have cleaned this for you while you were resting, you smiled, thankful for that, seeing as walking around in a shirt and undergarments in public was rather… explicit and embarrassing.

You turned around in the, realizing there was another door in your room, you went to open it curiously, behind the door was a sink and a tub, a personal bathroom, you smiled about that, you can take a bath without any worries now. You went into the bathroom, locking the door, deciding to take the chance to clean the blood and grime that stained your body. You sat on the hem of the tub, your clothes and bandages discarded, you were now scrubbing yourself clean, trying to avoid your wings soaking into the water, after cleaning your body, you focused on your wings, trying your best to not make them sting in pain as much as they already did in the contact with water, you washed them carefully and delicately.

After your relaxing bath, you changed your set of clothes, careful to not hurt your wings that looked like an absolute mess, the feathers were everywhere but you didn’t really bother with them, you’d groom your wings when they were healed up enough, with that thought out of the way, you went to leave the room, walking past a dresser with a mirror, you halted for a moment, stepping back and looking at the glass, your reflection showing, your hair was absolutely frizzled, your eyes were covered with black circles, like you just put black eyeliner around your eyes, you looked like an absolute mess and thing is, you were, emotionally and physically.

You saw a brush on the dresser, you decided to try and brush your hair, trying to look a little more presentable, a small chair sat underneath the dresser, pulling it put to sit down, focusing on your tangles.

You sat the brush down, looking at your now somewhat more clean state, there was nothing to do about the bags under your eyes, so you would just have to let that go, you got up from the chair, pushing it back under the dresser and walking to the door, exiting the room.

You explored the vast empty halls, taking in the details the hotel had, heading down the hall to the lobby, recalling that Charlie said you could join them anytime when you were ready, when you turned the corner, you saw some of the demons gathered in the corner of the lobby, you stood there quietly observing the people who were doing their own things, after scanning around the room, you saw Charlie talking to Vaggie in the parlor, on a sofa, it wasn’t long before Charlie spotted you as well and waved, “Over here, Y/n!” she calls to you, getting up to walk toward you to the stairs, you smiled nervously as everyone’s attention turned to you as you walked down the said stairs.

“How are you feeling?” she asks after you took your last step down, “I’m feeling much better, thank you,” You replied with sincerity, “and thank you for your hospitality.” You say as you bowed a little in respect, “just to make sure,” a male voice spoke as you turned away from Charlie’s to follow the voice, “you ain’t here to kill us right?” a tall feminine male asks, approaching you. You were taken back by his question but it made sense for them to worry, seeing as angels were sent to slaughter the poor souls, “what? no, i’d never-“ you tried to explain, being cut off quickly, “seeing on the news, she was the one who stopped the extermination, I don’t think those are her ideals, Angel.” Vaggie deadpanned to him, defending you.

Charlie laughed awkwardly, “Before we go into details any questions or details, how about a few introductions?” She asks, seeing how the atmosphere quickly turned, she guided you to the parlor, calling everyone to gather around, “Okay, so we have a new uhh,” she pauses trying to think, “guest at the hotel,” She says pointing her hand toward you, you waving shyly, “This is y/n, she arrived here yesterday as we all know and saw but welcome her nonetheless.” she smiles, only you getting stares and glances, “And these are our staff and residents,” she says, showing you the other three that were there, “this is Husk! our bartender,” she pointed to a cat with wings, who only stared at the distance, unfazed, “this is Angel, who is our single resident aside from you,” she says, pointing to the tall male who only scrolled through his phone before smiling and waving at you, “this is Niffty.” she says, pointing to a short woman with one eye who was staring into your soul, she ran up to you quickly, “are you an actual angel? why do you have so many wings? do you casually just wear eyeliner like that?” she says, pointing out your darkened eye bags, intruding your space, you only smiled nervously at her, she was asking to many questions before you could answer them, “and lastly, this is Alastor,” she says as you look at a man covered in red she pointed at, you were surprised about the male since you hadn’t seen him at all until now, he looked at you with an intimidating and intense gaze, smiling at you, making you feel uncomfortable, “he is our facility host.” She says, clasping her hands together with a smile.

Alastor walked up to you with a cane and his hands behind his back before bending down slightly to greet you properly, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.” He says, stretching his hand out for you to shake, his hands had red sharp like claws making you hesitatingly take it with a nervous smile, “pleasure..” you say, shaking his hand lightly, you got more nervous than before when you began to hear radio static coming from him, the same static you heard when you first arrived here.

“With that out of the way, I was wondering- since you’re an angel and all- what do you think about sinners and redemption?” Charlie asked as Alastor backed away, trailing off to do his own thing as Charlie began to speak to you again, “what do you mean?” you asked curiously, requesting she’d go into more detail, “Well as you see, I began this project a few days ago,” she says, sitting next to you, summoning a pile of paper before taking one in her hand to show you hand-made drawings.

“What I want is to save my people and I thought maybe if they were given a second chance they could be redeemed and go to Heaven,” she says as she points to the drawing but your mind trailed off as soon as she said, ‘my people’ “wait- wait-“ you tried to cut her off, “your people?” you asked, “uhh, yeah?” she answered, confused about your reaction, you then stared at her, noticing her facial features, red cheeks, white skin and blonde hair… Your heart began to twinge a little from the thoughts that began to bubble your mind, “What’s your name..?” You ask, hesitatingly, afraid to find your suspicions might be correct. “Charlie… Morningstar.” she answers, putting down the drawing to respond, your eyes widened as you leaned back from her for a moment before leaning toward her, “You’re Lucifer’s daughter?!” you shouted completely shocked and somewhat… hurt? You felt a pain that couldn’t be explained in your stomach.

“Yeah, my parents are Lilith and Lucifer Morningstar,” she states, answering the truth you tried to avoid for so long, you were just lost in thought as she began to ramble about then both, “and that is why they call me the princess of hell- oh, are you alright?” Charlie asks genuinely, seeing the hurt expression on your face, you snapped out of your thoughts as you shook your head, putting up a facade, “huh? yeah- yeah, I was just surprised, sorry.” you tried to exclaim, “I was just not told about any of this is all, y’know? since being in Heaven and all?” you tried to excuse, not really convincing yourself, Alastor gave a side eye to you, interested on how you were baffled from the mention of Charlie and her parents, “Where are,” you trailed off, hesitating to finish your next question, “your parents?” you asked, nervously.

Charlie looked away from you, thinking momentarily before speaking, “My mother has been gone for quite a while,” she says as she looks back at you with a tinge of sadness in her eyes, “she’s only been gone for like.. seven years now? but i believe she’s off on some sort of business trip,” She says as she tried to smile and wave it off like it wasn’t a big deal, “and my father… we don’t talk much.” she says as she hugs her arm, rubbing it slightly and awkwardly at the topic of her parents but to you, knowing that they don’t have much contact, it all just put your nerves at ease, you don’t think you could handle randomly seeing either of those two… ever.

You sighed, regaining composure, “sorry if I intruded on your personal life,” you apologize, looking at Charlie, “I uhm,” you paused, thinking if you should tell her anything about you, “you see, I used to be best friends with Lucifer,” you smiled, “and I am just happy to know that he’s alright.” You say with a half lie, you weren’t happy about him and Lilith, you never were and you never wanted to let him go like you did, like you had to.

Charlie smiled from surprise, “wait, are you Luna?” she asks, the name being said in so long, you felt rather uncomfortable with it, “I don’t really go by that name anymore but yes, I used to be..” You admit, trying to avoid saying the name yourself as it became more of a haunting of the past. She jumped in her seat on the sofa with a radiated smile, “my father told me so many stories about you when I was younger!” she says as she began to shake in happiness, “it’s so nice to meet you! I didn’t even know it was you!” she continues as she shook your hand suddenly, surprising you with her sudden enthusiasm, “he told me how you’re the daughter of the universe, the way you make stars and constellations align,” she began to ramble, “he even told me about the stars you make are always and are more beautiful than any other angel would ever create.” She smiles as she leaned in toward you with admiration.

You sat there with mixed feelings again, Lucifer said all this about you? the compliments she stated out made your heart flutter and you didn’t know why, surely he’d hate you by now after everything you did? the thoughts began to stress your mind and you just didn’t want to deal with them, you look down at the desk and remembered Charlies hotel project, so you decided it was best to change the subject, “I’m glad he seems to see me that way,” you smiled, “but how about you tell me about your project? I think we trailed off.” You stated, pointing to her drawings, she gasped as she picked up her paper drawing again, “that’s right! as I was saying before, I was thinking of maybe we could try and redeem sinners and try to bring them to Heaven! that way we can stop overpopulation in Hell,” she continued as you listened, taking a liking to her idea, “and if we find a solution to the overpopulation,” she says, bringing up another paper for you to see, “we can end all these exterminations and everyone will be smiling and happy!” she finishes as you smiled to her ideals, “So what do you think?” she asks as she puts down the drawing and looked at you eagerly awaiting your answer, “I actually think this is a great idea!” you say as you sit up in your seat eagerly, loving the idea of second chances, Charlie smiled more at your response as she squeed in excitement, having an angel finally agree on her passion project, “I’m so happy you believe in my cause!” she shouted in happiness, Vaggie smiling that someone else agreed who was the same as her.

“I was so upset when I found out extermination was allowed, it’s completely terrible as a whole.” you say as you leaned back into the sofa in distaste for the thought of ‘divine judgment’ amongst Charlie’s people, “So do I! None of them deserved what was given to them.” she says as she frowns, “I agree,” You say empathetically, “If you would let me, I’d like to stay and help with your cause.” You offered, Charlie smiling once again, “Really?” She asked with pure joy, “Yeah! I believe this could work!” You say with full confidence.

This made Alastor raise a brow at you and Charlie as he subtly listened in your whole conversation, he turned away with a ‘hmm’ as he thought to himself, he then shadowed up behind the sofa you and Charlie sat, nudging Vaggie away a little, “So we have a new staff member now?” Alastor smiled, Vaggie rolling her eyes at Alastor and walking around the sofa to sit next to Charlie, you blinked at him in surprised from his sudden join in on the conversation, “Yes we do!” Charlie says as she sat up, to gain everyone’s attention to announce you were now part of the crew, “everyone, everyone, I’d like to announce that we have a new staff member on our team!” She says as she points to you, they weren’t very enthusiastic as you had expected but not really expected them to but it really didn’t bother you since you preferred to avoid attention. Not to mention that Alastor had left the lobby before Charlie even began.

“We can discuss what you can do later,” Charlie says to you, before heading toward the middle of the lobby to pace around, “right now, what we need to do is discuss how we can try and bring sinners in,“ she began as Husk walked off to the green creepy area at the back of the lobby, drinking whatever green glass he held, “extermination is coming in six months instead of a year, it’s no big deal, just a little set back,” she says as a cat appears and follows her before jumping over to the sofa to sit next to you, you stared at it in surprise as it tilted it’s head at you, blinking its one eye and all you could process in your mind is- oh my stars its so cute.

You stared at the cat as it walked further to you, you didn’t want to move to touch it, afraid it might run off, she sat right next to you, you hesitated to pet it but it leaned into your touch and you never felt so much serotonin fill your body all at once, you pet her head gently as the kitty purred and you were squealing on the inside as you continued to pet her. You picked up the black cat, carrying her in your arms as you walked toward Charlie and Vaggie, “don’t you think if the next extermination deadline is sooner than expected, wouldn’t sinners be desperate?” you asked, while petting the cat in your arms, “yeah,” Vaggie thought, “maybe desperate enough to try and do anything to escape the extermination.” Vaggie spoke with a smile appearing on her face making Charlie gasp, getting the idea she was leading on, “this is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!” she shouted, raising her arms in the air, you smiling as you thought the same as well, only to frown when the kitty jumped out your arms, feeling the world shatter again inside your soul.

“Cute idea and all,” Angel says, tapping through his phone, “but you really going to go out in all of this?” He asks, showing a video of demons screaming through the city with fire everywhere, “well, it’s not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep-“ she says before being cut off from a loud explosion, making you jolt in surprise, hiding behind Charlie and Vaggie.

Everyone ran outside to see what the ruckus was about, you following last, you weren’t sure what to expect being new in Hell and all but when you saw outside was a massive war machine and Alastor at the top of one of the hotels balcony, talking with the attacker who damaged one of the hotels walls.

Well, needless to say, your ‘first day’ in Hell was going to be quite the ride to your new step in your new fallen life but you couldn’t complain, it was much more freeing than it ever was in Heaven.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

TAGGLISSSTT YIPEEE:

@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1 @darling-may-i @pink-apples001 @sparkleyfishies @mollzaj @glowymxxn @hyperkaiperrose

thank you for reading!!:!/!

AMERICA YA :D

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Death, Grief, Slight Age Gap, Life after loss, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Brother's Friend, Manic Behavior, Depression, Panic Attacks.

Word Count:

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

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pt1 Part Two

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You sat alone in your dimly lit room, the silence almost palpable. Your parents were away for the night. As they had been the last few nights.

You didn't blame them at all. It was hard being in, let alone living in a house that carried so much weight now. It was only a matter of time before your parents would move away. Taking you along with them, as you were still young. Just barely 21 yourself.

The only light came from the desk lamp, casting a soft glow over the envelope in your hands. It was marked with the words "Read when you're lonely," and the familiarity of your brother's handwriting stirred up a mix of emotions. You carefully peeled open the envelope, feeling the weight of the moment.

This was the first letter you were opening. It only seemed right, since you were feeling lonely.

Extremely.

As you unfolded the letter, a rush of memories flooded your mind—the way Hajun used to write letters when he had first left home, the warmth you felt when opening them, and the excitement of the thought of another one coming soon. The endless support he gave you in those letters.

A testament to the strength your relationship. You took a deep breath, your eyes scanning the neatly written words on the page:

I'm sorry I’m no longer there to give you a hug when you need one or to share in the laughter and tears of everyday life. I wish more than anything to be there with you, to tell you that everything will be alright and to remind you that you’re never truly alone.

I know this time is incredibly hard, and I can only imagine the weight you’re carrying. It was selfish of me to inflict this on you, but I hope you understand. You've always been understanding. And I hope you can be understanding now.

But I need you to remember that even though I’m not physically with you, you still have remnants of me everywhere. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or lonely, reach out to those who care about you, even if it’s difficult. I hope they can help begin to fill that void.

There’s someone I want you to contact if you ever find yourself feeling lost or isolated. His name is Christopher. He’s one of my closest friends, and he knows what it means to be there for someone who’s hurting. It's been a while since I've talked to him, but I trust him completely, and I believe he’ll offer you the support you need.

If anything, he'll do it out of pity. But he'll be a person in times of loneliness that you can look too.

Sometimes, a change in environment can help bring a fresh perspective and new beginnings. Knowing you, you'll want a change of pace. Something to get away from me. Consider moving to Korea. It’s a big step, but it could be an opportunity for you to heal and find new joys. And there are people there that I believe can help you begin to heal. I know it’s not an easy decision, but I want you to be open to the possibility of finding happiness, even if it means making a major change.

I hope these words bring you some comfort and help you find the strength to face each day. Know that my love is always with you, even if I’m not, Gremlin.

Hajun

You sat there for a moment, letting your eyes burn slightly. You looked at you clock and saw the time.

3:07 a.m.

You wondered if Chris was busy at the moment. You found yourself opening up Instagram.

You hadn't opened it up since Hajun left.

Left. It was easier to think of it like that.

You didn't want to scroll through the countless amount of edits you knew had been made. Juju had always been the favorite of the group. Rightly so, because even though you were prejudiced it was easy to see just how amazing your brother was. And it made sense that others would see that as well.

You didn't watch through any of the edits fully. But it was the first thing that popped up on your screen. With some corny ass pop song playing in the background that made you grit your teeth.

They acted as if they knew him.

We'll miss our Junebug.

You swallowed the bike that had risen in your throat.

Our?

They didn't know him. They couldn't have been going through the pain you were going through.

The anger you felt made you want to become a key board warrior. To respond to every comment and call them out on the utter bullshit.

The comments saying that "no one understands how hurt I was when I found out" or "it hurts as his number one fan" or "no one knows pain like this".

The comments with immense parasocial vibes made you sick to your stomach, and you clutched your phone as you scrolled through countless girls and guys who commented on how heartbroken they were of their husband being gone.

You had gone through that phase, it was normal even, something common in the fandoms. But at times like this it left a sour taste in your mouth. And you couldn't sit one moment to and try to empathize with them; even if you knew that sometimes people you looked up to, admired even- felt closer than those you could reach out and touch; those whose embraces were tangible.

You felt like reporting each and everyone, screaming at them.

They never knew him.

At least not like you did, not like your mom did. Your dad. His friends.

And to those who had "stumbled" across your account after doing enough research on your brother it was nearly a full on doxxing; and then spread your information- had sent you a plethora of messages that you didn't open up. You'd let them sit in your requests until the day that you went to meet your brother once more.

You went to the search bar and typed in the reason you had come to the social site to begin with.

Christopher Bang

You clicked on a page that had the blue verification.

@gnabnahc.

You scrolled through a few of his posts, not realizing a smallest smile had molded to your face.

His way of posting was similar to your brother's. Very boyfriend coded. Something you had always teased him about in the comments of your "fan" account.

"Y/N you know you're atrocious for leaving that comment." "219k people liked so I think you're wrong." "Yeah, cause they thought it was funny that you tagged Mom and Dad." "What else was I supposed to do? Allow my brother to solicit such images? I'm tired of hearing people simp over you. You're not even that great-"

Except he really was.

Your thumb stilled over a clear image of him, his birthday post froma a few days before you first called him.

26.

Your breath caught slightly as you stared at the unfamiliar face on your screen. You had never met him - his name now only being mentioned in the wake of your brother’s death, a friend of Hajun’s you had never gotten around to knowing in his life. Yet here you were, unable to tear your eyes away from his smile.

It was strange, the way his smile seemed to reach out to you, even though he was a stranger. His lips were curved in a way that felt so effortless, as if joy came naturally to him, even in a world that had assumingly taken from him. As it tended to do for everyone.

The crinkles at the corners of his eyes hinted at a warmth that felt oddly familiar, and foreign simultaneously. You didn’t know him: you had no reason to feel anything for him- especially in the mental state you were currently residing in -but there was something about that smile that tugged at something deep inside you - a place you had been trying to keep sealed off since Hajun died.

You frowned, your thumb hovering once more as if you might scroll away, but you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself studying the details - the way his dimples deepened when he smiled, the slight tilt of his head as if he was caught in the middle of laughing at something. A laugh you could almost hear clearly. Light, and airy, carrying the essence of an eternal giggle rather than a deep bellowing guffaw.

His smile reminded you of the way Juju smiled.

Except the difference between Hajun's smile and Chris's was that the warmth in Chris's smile didn’t just comfort you, or make you feel as if you were seen- it sparked something restless and new, like the first hint of spring after a long winter, coaxing your frozen heart to thaw slightly, even when you were sure you weren't ready to feel the warmth of the sun again.

You didn’t want to feel this a draw to someone you’d never met personally, especially not now, when grief still clung to you like a second skin. But the longer you looked, the harder it was to deny the pull. It wasn’t attraction, not exactly - it was more like an inexplicable need to hold onto something, anything, that didn’t hurt.

And somehow, without knowing how or why, Chritopher's smile had become that something.

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"Hyung! Your phone is ringing!" Jeongin's voice rang across the home to the eldest member, as he stuffed chips into his mouth while lounging on his bed.

"Innie-ah, I thought I told you to stop eating on my bed. You always leave crumbs." As he walked over to his dresser where his phone laid, Jeongin made a theatrical crunch as if proving a point to his leader.

"Ah! You're calling me messy! Our dorm is the cleanest how could you say that?" He mumbled, rolling over and opening up his secret account to scroll through edits.

Chris sighed and grabbed his phone, the call missed. When he tapped the screen, your name had popped up and immediately his heart flew to his throat.

He called you back immediately, waiting impatiently for you to pick up.

"Hello? Sorry did I wake you?"

"Ah, ah, no I promise you didn't wake me. It's only early evening over here- but wouldn't that mean it is early morning for you?

"I couldn't sleep. I'm home alone and even though I want to be alone...together. I don't want to be alone...alone."

Chris nodded. "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm sure that's really hard." Jeongin's ears perked up, his body flying into a seated position as he crawled closer to his Hyung who was now seated on the edge of the mattress. "But I'm here for you, you know?"

Jeongin tried his best to listen in, even trying to disguise his nosiness as seeking for affection, but Chris shook his head and pushed him off lightly with a light noogie to his head. Jeongin pouted and opened up a pack of gummy worms, chewing slower and more deliberately to try and listen in.

"Korea?" Chan asked, his voice raising slightly in surprise. "I mean that's a huge step but..." He nodded and Jeongin sighed, throwing himself back on the bed.

"I'm sure it will be hard. But you'll have support here. But with all the visas and stuff you'll have to have a valid reason to move...yeah...hm...I mean it could take a little bit unless you found a job...yeah..." He absentmindedly drew little doodles on his knee.

Jeongin's eyebrows scrunched. Who was the girl his leader was speaking so softly to? He could hear the slightest sound of your voice and Jeongin hmphed as he moved around again. Was his hyung dating someone?

The conversation you had with Chris went on for a while, until you decided that maybe it was time you at least try to rest your eyes.

"Good. You need to get sleep. We can talk about this when you have a clearer mind. Sleep well, Y/N."

"Goodnight." You said, hanging up. You put your phone on your desk and trekked towards your bed but looked at the small notebook that laid on it. Just one of many notebooks left.

There were hundreds and hundreds of lyrics Hajun had scribbled onto the cream-colored paper. You were grateful your parents had taken the time to raise you as a polyglot rather than just Hajun.

You seamlessly switched from English to Korean to Japanese and the occasional surprise inducing Spanish lyrics Hajun had written.

Language had always been an interest to you.

The minute Hajun had shown interest in becoming an entertainer by the age of seven, your parents had enrolled him in all types of music and dance related extracurriculars, and made you tag along as well in hopes that maybe you too would want to become a part of the entertainment industry, but rather than that you had fallen in love with tagging along to Hajun's language classes.

You credited your parents to the Korean and English knowledge you had, your mom and dad speaking the two languages throughout your childhood after reading somewhere that it was easier for children to learn languages due to brain plasticity. And due to the glories of the education system, you had taken Spanish throughout your high school years and taken quite a liking to the widely spoken language, even if you only knew it intermediately.

Hajun had been the one to teach you Japanese alongside one of his band members who was a native speaker. It was an excuse for you to chat with him regularly, and you missed that excuse when you had become a better speaker than your brother himself.

You flipped through his lyrics and wished you could have heard his voice sing these words or rap them. Or have these words overlay on a soothing melody.

Your fingers glided over imaginary piano keys, and you hummed softly. Not that you knew how to play the piano; you just enjoyed clashing a few keys together in a discordant way ever so often. But you had always been a choir kid, thanks to your parents pressuring their expectations on you. Hoping that one day you might choose to be on the same path as Hajun.

How sick and twisted may irony be.

The pages in front of you felt heavy with the weight of his unspoken words, dreams that were cut short too soon. You could almost hear his voice in your mind, the cadence of his lyrics dancing between panning between your ears. But it was just that - almost. The more you read, the more you were consumed by the silence, a silence and emptiness that gnawed at you.

A sudden pang of grief shot through your chest, sharp and undeniable. How could this be all that was left of him? Words on a page, a life that had been poured into lyrics, melodies, and dreams that would never be fulfilled. As if everything he did was for nothing? The thought twisted inside you, tightening your throat, suffocating in its cruelty.

But then, something else began to simmer beneath the surface of your grief - something that made your breath catch, and not in a way you were prepared for. You shook your head, trying to dismiss it, to focus on the memories, on the reality that becoming an idol was what drove him to his demise. How could you even think -no, it was irrational, absurd even.

Yet the thought was persistent, sneaking into the corners of your mind when you least expected it. What if you…what if you became the voice that could bring his words to life? What if you took the path he couldn’t complete, not to replace him but to…honor him? Was that it? Or was it something more?

You remembered Chris’s words from before, the casual mention of visas and logistics if you ever moved to Korea. It was a passing comment, a practical consideration that seemed so far-fetched- and now...now it was like a splinter under your skin.

The idea lingered, manic and wild. It felt almost like a betrayal to consider it, as if you were trying to follow in the footsteps that had led him to the edge of a cliff. But at the same time, there was a strange, allure to the consideration; one that made you wonder if you could find him again, not in the grave where he rested, but in the songs that never got to be sung.

The conflict in your mind was almost unbearable, a cacophony of fear, grief, and a desperate yearning for something you couldn’t quite define.

Was it closure? Was it madness? Or was it simply a need to feel closer to him, to understand why the path he chose became too much to bear?

You wanted to dismiss it as a fleeting thought, a product of your grief-stricken mind, but the more you tried to push it away, the more it burrowed itself into your consciousness. Becoming an idol -how crazy was that? It was the very thing that had taken him from you. And yet, the more you thought about it, the more it made a twisted kind of sense.

You weren’t like him, and maybe that’s why you could do it. Maybe, where he fell, you could stand. Maybe you could be strong enough to carry his dreams forward, to finish the songs he started. Or maybe it was just the grief talking, leading you down a path that made no sense, but felt like the only way to hold onto him, to not let him disappear completely.

The snap, when it came, was not sudden but gradual, like a rope fraying one fiber at a time until it finally broke. It wasn’t rational, it wasn’t even something you could explain, but the thought was there now, alive and insistent. You couldn’t tell if it was the worst idea you’d ever had or the only one that made sense in the wake of his absence.

The idea of giving life to Hajun’s lyrics -of turning his words into a melody that could fill the silence he left behind- was the only thing that seemed to soothe the ache in your heart. Even just imagining his songs being sung was like a balm, easing the pain with every note that played in your mind.

Becoming an idol…The very notion was wild, crazy, even, but in the midst of your grief, it felt like the only way to hear his voice again. To be with him. To find a way back to him, to find a way forward that wasn’t just drowning in the hundred of emotions he left behind.

You could feel it building, an irrational yet unstoppable force, a need that defied logic. It wasn’t about fame, or fortune, or even following in his footsteps. It was about something deeper, something primal. It was about reclaiming a part of him, of yourself, that felt lost in the shadows of his death.

The idea grew roots, tangled and dark, winding through your thoughts until it was impossible to separate it from your grief. You imagined yourself on stage, under the harsh lights, the crowd’s roar in your ears- was it your voice they wanted to hear, or his? The lines blurred, your identity slipping between the cracks as the thought took hold.

You had the voice. You had the potential to learn to dance. Your image would almost be a given - the amount of attention a company would get for signing on the younger sister of an incredibly loved and deceased idol would have media swarming and an immense amount of free promotion. It would be a conglomerates dream. But could you do it?

Could you really step into that world, knowing what it did to him?

The grief whispered that maybe you had no choice. Maybe this was your path now, carved out by the loss that had ripped your life apart. Maybe by becoming an idol, you could bring him back in some way, keep his memory alive.

It was reckless, it was irrational, it was everything you had never been. And yet…it was the only thing that made sense.

You could almost hear him scoffing at you from above, calling you out for your foolishness, and that made you smile- just a little. If he were here, he’d tell you how ridiculous you were being, probably flick your forehead scolding you about how this was the last thing you should do. But he wasn’t here. And that was the point, wasn’t it? To be where he couldn’t be, to say what he couldn’t say, to live the life he never got to finish.

The snap was complete now, your mind fracturing into a thousand pieces, each one demanding something different. Rationality warred with logic with desperation, but in the end, only one voice remained. The one that told you to go, to become, to do the very thing that had destroyed him.

Because maybe, just maybe, in that destruction, you could find the pieces of him that were still left. Maybe those pieces could fill what he had carved out from you.

And maybe - just maybe - in the echoes of your own voice, you could finally find peace.

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

988 - USA Suicide Prevention Hotline | 24 Hours 111 - Helpline UK | 24 hours 1393 - Suicide Hotline Korea | 24 hours

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@0325tiny @resi4skz @soaplickerrr

@leezanetheofficial @stressymessyana @istglevi-gotmesimping

@hannamoon143 @kayleefriedchicken

[marigold-hills]

June 8: bubbles | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 500

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

cw: use of drugs (magical equivalent of weed)

James and Sirius are laying about James’ bed, hands and legs in disarray, giggling. Above them float iridescent bubbles, the light of the dying day refracting through and emitting distorted rainbows onto the walls.

Each time a bubble bursts it fills the room with sweet-smelling smoke, and the two get another hit and fall into another bout of laughter.

“Pads, Padfoot, Paddy-Pie. You don’t get it. Those eyes,” James sighs so wistfully Sirius worries he’ll inhale too much and float away. It’s a funny thought so Sirius laughs more.

“You’re a masochist, Jamesy-lamb. What were you told? Keep out of my eyesight or I’ll rip out your kidneys?”

“So sweet,” James almost moans through another giggle. “So lovely. I hope you’ll get this one day, Pads. It feels… well it feels a bit like this, actually,” he waves a vague hand around the scented air of the room, “only even better.”

“No thanks, I don’t fancy an impromptu nephrectomy.”

“Nah. That’s not for you. You need someone nice, who’ll take care of you.”

Sirius wraps a hand around the gilded oyster around his neck and thinks of the colour of the eye within it. Thinks of a hand underneath his shirt.

Weird thought, he decides.

“Moony still at the library?”

“That funny swot. He needs more sleep, he does, have you seen the bags under his eyes?”

“Thanks, Prongs,” comes the Moony voice, one of a kind, from behind them, full of laughter. “You truly know how to compliment a guy.”

“Moons!” Sirius rolls forward, an excited dog greeting its favourite person. “My moonage daydream, I have stollen chocolate cake for you from dinner.”

Remus puts a hand on Sirius’ hair, sits on the bed by him. “You have? Always so thoughtful for me.”

“Thoughtful, my arse,” James interjects the moment, “if he were thoughtful, he’d have stolen you actual dinner. Moony, you look about five minutes away from keeling over.”

The hand petting through Sirius’ hair takes out some of the sting from the words, but James is right, isn’t he?

“And you two are high as hippogryphs the night before an exam. That horse isn’t looking very tall, Prongs.”

Remus looks down at where Sirius worked his head into his lap (when did that happen?), eyes soft and lovely. He looks so pretty like this, even with the dark circles under his eyes.

“May I have my cake, mo réalta?”

Sirius tries to stand up to get it, but the hand in his hair keeps him from moving.

“Don’t. Just tell me where it is, please.”

Remus gets his cake and sits back down on the bed, with a gentle hand manoeuvres Sirius’ head back onto his thigh. Rips off a piece of cake with his fingers and feeds it to Sirius. Another bubble bursts somewhere above them, the air becoming almond-sweet.

Suddenly, Sirius is hungry. “This is the best cake I’ve ever tasted.”

James, uncharacteristically quiet, bursts out in almost manic laughter. “That’s the bubbles talking, Padfoot.”

NOTES:

part 8! Of 30 :)

Early morning chapter courtesy of my lack of sleep :)

I kept thinking of bubbles left over in a shower or a bath when deciding what to write for this, but figured that’s too early in the story yet :)

hope everyone has an excellent weekend ❤️

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[tiredfox64]

I absolutely LOVE your “You Have Freedom” fic!! We need more Havik appreciation—

Can you write about Havik w an S/O that changes her hair almost every other week?? Kinda like Ramona Flowers from Scott Pilgrim.

You’re that bestest ever💖🔊‼️

Chaos Chameleon

Yip notes: Ugh I need to redye my raccoon tails again. I think I need to buy a better dye cause the black part is the only lasting color 😭

Pairing: Havik x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Don’t clutch your pearls due to dyed hair it’s 2024

It’s a mystery how you could afford so much hair dye and take good care of it to keep the color popping.

You are not the kind of girl who picks natural hair colors like black, brown, blonde, or ginger. No, you go for the colors that shock old people and make children want to be you. From the bright neon colors that are fit for a rave to the soft pastel colors that would have been perfect for a Tumblr post when pastel goth was popular. Why stick to one hair color when the universe has an abundance of colors for you to try out? It’s never too late to have fun with the body you were blessed with.

As much as you loved dying your hair and seeing how the color popped off in the sun, there was someone else who loved the sight of it as well. That someone would be Havik.

He knew you had a bit of a chaotic side when he first saw you with your hair split into two colors. You looked like sweet cotton candy with one side of your hair being a blush pink and the other side being a baby blue. Add in the fact that you had black strips in the front part of your hair to make raccoon tails, you caught his attention quickly. He was already showing you off to Darrius before he introduced himself to you.

“Darrius, have you ever seen an Earthrealmer this exotic? I had no clue they could be so colorful.”

“Well, if you like her so much why don’t you go introduce yourself?” Darrius said in a somewhat annoyed tone, finding Havik’s fascination with some hair to be a weird distraction.

However, Havik took his words seriously and jumped at the opportunity. You could kinda thank Darrius for meeting your boyfriend. If it weren’t for his sarcasm you wouldn’t have seen a large man with a mangled face and strange clothes running towards you. Sure, it was horrific at first but once he complimented your hair you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Gosh, Havik didn’t know there were so many different colors. And yet you manage to own a lot of them in bottles and containers.

He got used to the smell of hair dye and how it differed between colors and brands. There were a lot of Arctic Fox bottles scattered around while there were containers of Manic Panic stacked on shelves. All of them were opened and used at least once. They had to be considering you dye your hair often. You dye it almost every other week.

It was a shock to Havik. One week it’s like cotton candy on your head and the next week it’s lemons and limes. When he asked you why you changed it so quickly you replied,

“I’ve had it for two weeks, it’s time for a change.”

Sometimes it’s just one color, sometimes it’s split, multicolor, two-tone, ombre, the list never ends. He likes it when you hide one color under another, it’s like a surprise. One moment he thinks it’s just a silvery white but the second he runs his fingers through it, BAM, a plum purple color right under it. Get ready for your hair to get messy and possibly knotted because he will not stop playing with it.

You always clarify the specific color name too. Cause it could never be just blue. It’s always something specific when all he can identify is that it’s blue and sometimes it’s dark. He can sometimes identify aquamarine he just needs to think about the ocean.

If only you told Havik every time you dyed your hair. He’s irresponsible with time, he doesn’t realize when weeks have passed by unless he is waiting for something to happen. The second time you dyed your hair he had no idea it was you at first. That lemon and lime hair now turned into a fiery red that could only be compared to a ripe watermelon. When you went up to hug him he pushed you off of him.

“Get your hands off of me, woman!” He yelled.

“It’s me you idiot!” You yelled back.

“What!”

He stared at you for a few seconds, blinking rapidly before realizing it was you. No strange woman was trying to force themselves upon him.

“Oh…it’s nice.” He tried to fix his wrongs by giving a compliment. The head pat doesn’t fix it either.

Nonetheless, he still loves what you do to your hair. It’s crazy, it’s colorful, it’s a burst of your personality. He’s never witnessed a girl like you. You are a rare, colorful gem who can match his chaotic energy. So…why doesn’t he dye his hair?

Eventually, you would suggest doing his hair. It is quite long so there is lots of potential there. You even have a dark red that would match well with his attire. If that man can wear bones as clothes, it’s safe to say he could allow some dye in his hair. So you pleaded and begged, whined and nagged. Then finally he said,

“Give me a good color. Don’t you dare make it neon or that ugly pastel mess.”

“Aww, but you would look so cute with light pink hair.” You teased.

“…I love you, but I won’t hesitate to rip my head off and crush it just to prevent you from putting that stupid color on me.”

“Oh, you’re such a drama king. Come on, I’m gonna make you my masterpiece.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were like a painter who couldn’t risk anything. Your masterpiece had to be perfect. One wrong move and you might have to switch up your idea.

IF ONLY HAVIK WOULD SIT STILL!

You didn’t do his whole head of hair like you usually did with yourself. Gotta take baby steps with this kind of stuff. You colored some strands of his hair with the front being special. You were going to do a raccoon tail since that was his favorite thing. He specifically pointed it out when you first met him. Plus, he has black hair so there is no need to use any dye for the black parts. Just use that dark red and go for it.

Havik never knew the process took so long. It would have been much longer if you decided to bleach the strands. That would have been a whole new struggle. You wanted to keep the color dark so it worked out. Still meant he had to sit still for a while and get sprayed with water to remove the excessive dye. Did you need to spray him directly in the face? No, but it was funny.

You were about to show Havik the end result but you hesitated.

“Wait,” you paused for a while, “I want to do the other side too.”

“Ugh! We have been at it all day!” Not really but it’s been two hours.

“I promise it will be worth it! I’m having fun with this, don’t kill my vibe!” You pushed him back in his chair before putting more dye in the bowl. Round two here we go.

Yeah, you wanted to dye the shaved side as well. You were gonna do a raccoon tail look for it. Havik had to sit there for another hour-long process, feeling your nails dig into his head to prevent him from moving and having the cold dye touch his scalp. Guess this shows how much Havik loves you. He’s willing to sit here and take it.

Time to splash him with water again. Don’t put the hair dryer on high you’re gonna remind him of when his face first melted off. BOOM! He is finished. You brought him over to your mirror so he could get a good look at himself. And…well…he loved it. It was different and unique. The raccoon tail was what caught his eye the most. He ran his fingers through his hair to see the red and black strands mixed together before separating. You knew he truly liked it once he picked you up and squeezed you tightly to his body. He nuzzled his face against yours to show his appreciation which you gladly accepted.

Just then Darrius walked in and immediately noticed something different about Havik. Havik was about to tell Darrius about what you did but he was interrupted by a question.

“Who is that woman? Where is your girlfriend?”

“THAT IS MY GIRLFRIEND! IT IS THE SAME GIRLFRIEND EVERY WEEK. I CAN NOT KEEP EXPLAINING TO YOU THAT SHE DYES HER HAIR!”

Darrius really needs to take his glasses off when he’s inside.

Yap notes: Can you tell which gear I like to put on him? I enjoyed doing this it helped my brain a little since the writer's block has been kicking my butt. Oh well, time to eat more Wing Stop. Adiós!

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Can you please write more soft cock zevlor? 👉👈 maybe with a male reader?? If thas not much to ask..... (Also thanks for ypur service to the society)

IT WOULD BE MY ABSOLUTE PLEASURE

Zevlor/cismasc!Reader

!NSFW!

-When you have sparring sessions with Zevlor, you always feel a spark between the two of you. Intense, lingering eye contact. Playful smiles. And when it's done, the hand on your back congratulating you for a job well done tends to linger far too long.

-But this session is different. It's more visceral, more teasing. Every word that Zevlor says spikes your adrenaline and coils heat in your stomach.

-"Come on, harder!" as you swing at him, "I can take it, so give it to me." Your cock is getting stiff as you continue swinging, the both of you starting to pant with strain, "Harder, that's it--harder, just like that!"

-Perhaps a bit too roughly, you knock the sword from his hand and are immediately on him. The flirting has finally reached it's boiling point, and you can't hold back and play naive any more.

-You grind your throbbing cock against his groin, the both of you breathing hard into each other's mouths.

-"Is this hard enough for you?" You ask, dropping your own sword to grab Zevlor's hips and pull him tightly against you, making sure he feels just how much he's worked you up.

-Zevlor seems like he's been expecting this all along, kissing you rough. It's hurried and desperate, like Zevlor's been holding back just as much as you have.

-You can feel that Zevlor isn't hard yet and try to rut into him to get him there, but instead, he steps back from you. You think he's about to cut this all off and say that it's a mistake, but instead he turns and places his hands on a tree, his tail thwipping against the ground excitedly

-If that doesn't make the invitation clear enough, Zevlor unfastening his pants and shucking them down is about as clear as things could get. You're behind him in an instant, grabbing handfuls of his taut ass and kissing the side of his neck

-But when you reach around to stroke his cock, a calloused but gentle hand grabs your wrist. "Don't worry about that," Zevlor breathes, "Just take me."

-It's clear that he's uncomfortable about his dick for some reason, so you don't push it. Instead, you kiss his neck again, letting your hands slip under his shirt to caress at the hard ridges of his ribs

-"Lube?" You ask, grinding your clothed cock against his ass

-"I've, ahh--" Zevlor arches his back as you nip at his neck, "I've already taken care of it," His tail wraps around your waist, pulling you closer, "So fuck me already."

-Your mind reels as you fumble your pants open. What does he mean that he took care of it?

-You only have to wonder for a moment, because as soon as you slide your cock between his ass cheeks you feel that his hole is already soft and slick with lubricant. You groan into his ear and ask him if he fingered himself before this

-"A good soldier is always prepared." You can't see his face, but you can hear the smile in his voice

-Knowing that he was expecting to be fucked by you is driving you wild. You pant out apologies as you inch into the impossible heat of him, your muscles twitching with the need to slam in but resisting as best as you can

-"I can take it," Zevlor groans, reaching a hand behind him to grab your hip, "So give it to me."

-Hearing him parrot back the words from your sparring earlier makes you laugh, and then buck your hips. "Like this?" Your cock pries him open, making both of you moan and pant

"J...just like that-" You can see the muscles of Zevlor's back flex as you begin pumping into him, "Fuck, just like that..."

-It's amazing. Zevlor's hole is impossibly hot and tight around you, and the sounds he grunts out with each thrust makes your head swim. There's no way you're gonna last long like this

-You know that you're going to cum in the next few pumps--the heat in your core is building to a manic degree, and your thrusts are getting faster and sloppier

-Instinctively, you reach around Zevlor and grab his cock to stroke him, hoping to bring him to completion too

-"N- wait, ahh--" Zevlor's body tightens and his hands grab yours, but they don't pull you away.

-His cock is still soft. You slow your hips before stopping altogether, feeling like a monster for being so greedy and inconsiderate

-"Don't..." Zevlor moves back against you, slowly fucking himself on your cock, "Don't stop...feels good, promise..."

-You wouldn't believe him if it weren't for the sheer amount of precum oozing from his tip. The sticky-slick fluid steadily leaks into your hand as Zevlor finds a quicker pace and arches his back, groaning and shivering as he finds his prostate with the head of your cock

-Understanding dawns on you. It explains why he didn't want you to touch him earlier. But with that realization comes a fierce adoration. To you, signs of age aren't anything to be ashamed of. It's something worthy of admiration--a testament to all you've been through. You've always loved the signs of Zevlor's age-- the thickness of his horns, the creases around his eyes, the faded scars along his chest. This is certainly no exception.

-You pull Zevlor tight to your chest, grinding into his prostate as quick and hard as you can, peering over his shoulder to hungrily watch his soft cock swing with your thrusts. Thick strands of precum dangle and fall messily from him, all the while Zevlor's moans grow higher and tighter-- he's getting close

-Your muscles burn as you fuck him with everything you have, your eyes fighting to not roll closed as you threaten to fall into your orgasm

-And then you see it-- The clear slickness of Zevlor's precum turns white and it drools thickly from his tip as he whines deep and gravelly in his throat. The sight and sound alone would've been enough to push you over the edge, if you weren't already there

-You ride out your orgasm, burying yourself deep in Zevlor's ass as you fill him with hot pumps of your cum. You could have stayed there behind him for an eternity, just relishing in the feeling of his strong back and tight ass, but kissing him is far more important in that moment

-You turn him around and lock him into a kiss, grinding your cocks together-- yours twitching and slowly softening, and his still steadily leaking

-"Fuck," You breathe into his mouth between a kiss, "I love you..."

-You feel Zevlor's muscles tighten at that, but after a moment he melts into your arms, a happy hum rumbling in his chest

[toons-and-doom]

If twisteds could talk, their voices could be distorted/gurgled as the ichor could literally be also choking them. If not then I guess they just make animalistic noises lol. Or.. they could be repeating they know right before they got.. twisted.

besides Vee, her voice could be glitchy as fuck or making random glitchy noises, she’s a robot anyways.

Astro, possibly would tell a toon he just fucking tore apart “sweet dreams” once they died, hoping that their in peace now, but carrying more guilt.

Dandy is the only one who has full control of himself, but his voice could still be either the same, or slightly distorted as well..

Dandy you couldn’t have fucked up that bad all by yourself bro..

(Holy shit while I was writing this, imagine that the Eternal Happiness skins have their own twisted variants, you know they’re close when you hear distorted laughing. And you should probably run when you see a rainbow puddle.)

Oh god now I’m becoming a professional yapper..💔💔

It’s okay I’m a yapper too

Oh god I’m thinking about potential voice lines

So for poppy it’s mostly gurgling / zombie esque noises. Occasionally she mumbles something about how the ichor hurts, or how she has to complete the machines.

Boxten gets a bit more voice lines, occasionally he’ll quietly call out stuff like ‘ guys ‘ or ‘where did you go? ‘. There’s of course some gurgling- maybe even he sings a little- to the tune of a disoriented music box, in an attempt to calm himself.

Now Shrimpo makes more animalistic noises, more so growling and a bit of gurgling. Occasionally he utters something like ‘ I HATE the dark ‘ or ‘ I HATE the cold ‘ or maybe even ‘ I hate THESE STUPID TOONS MAKING SO MUCH NOISE ‘

I don’t imagine Tisha speaking much, maybe she hums softly or remarks on how dirty this place is.

Toodles straight up makes animal and gurgling noises. Maybe she will have a throwaway like for when it’s a blackout that she doesn’t like the dark.

Brightney is pretty similar to poppy in that she makes more so gurgly zombie esque noises. Occasionally she may reference the other toons and her need to find them because the dark can be dangerous. Maybe she’ll reference specific toons and remark toodles is afraid of the dark or that Rodger has been more jumpy lately so the dark won’t do him good.

I’d imagine razzle and dazzle humming as well when they’re idle, since they can’t really move. Both when disturbed I think they speak at the same time, saying contradictory things like ‘ DIE ‘ and ‘ RUN ‘

Tbh I can’t imagine Rodger talking. If he did he’s oddly snappy, like ‘ DONT TOUCH THAT. ‘ or like ‘ YOU CANT HANDLE IT ‘

Teagan is also a zombie noise person, maybe she remarks about the tapes and how she needs them. She needs them or dandy is going to kill them all. . .

Goob just sobs. Hes scared, he’ll call out to the toons and says he doesn’t want to be alone. He wants a hug- he call if anyone wants a hug in a weak voice. And most devastatingly, if there is a scraps in the party, he’ll call out to her.

Meanwhile scraps is more manic, laughing manically while chasing toons, maybe even taunting them. If she’s looking, perhaps she has a moment of clarity and calls for goob in a more concerned voice (she has additional voice lines about how she’s worried about him if there is a goob in the party)

Flutter doesn’t say anything < / 3

I’d imagine dandy is a lot more pissed off so his voice lines sound like he’s gonna snap on yo ass. Obligatory where are my tapes line.

FOR REAL ASTRO DOES TELL HIS VICTIMS SWEET DREAMS BUT THERES A DEFEATED SIGN AFTERWARDS

SHELLY SHOUTS TO GET PEOPLES ATTENTION BECAUSE SHES CONSTANTLY IGNORED

AND VEE DOES GLITCH

~~~~

Oh god prescribed joy and ichor would be a match made in hell but it’s very silly!! :D!!!

[inthewychelm]

Steddie Week: Day one - Mystery @steddie-week

wordcount:1047

The bell above the door dinged, but Eddie thinks it might as well be useless considering how the two employees behind the counter didn’t even acknowledge it. 

“Alright! Fine!” Robin huffed, pulling away from Steve's hand where he’s clearly been messing up her hair. “You can keep your secrets, dingus!”

Steve smirked at her, probably satisfied in getting her to drop something. Eddie laughed at their little display, he thinks they’re lucky that Family Video appears to be having a slow day. Not that ever stops them from having a heated debate during rush hour; Eddie had been very tempted to commandeer the breakroom microwave for some popcorn, instead he just stole some raisinets.

Despite not hearing the doorbell, they did hear him laugh. Both heads snapped in his direction, Eddie was slightly terrified by the response. Robin had a manic expression of glee, which Eddie knew was not for him but at the expense of Steve’s own expression of horror. But as much as he pitied Steve in this moment, Eddie was curious.

“Hello, kind fellows. What’s this I hear of secrets?” Eddie tripped over to the counter, landing with his elbows propped up on the surface. In the hopes of brushing it off as somewhat intentional, he places his head in hands staring wide-eyed up at them. 

“Eddie!” Steve shouted, voice tinged with something he can’t quite pick out. “Hi- we got that new…horror flick you wanted?” 

Eddie’s brow ticked up as Steve’s voice ended in question. He’s trying to figure out how to address Steve’s update-slash-question, when Robin interrupts. 

“Steve won’t tell me any of the details,” Robin pouted. “But I’m pretty sure that he’s planning a date.”

Date? A date?! Eddie knows Steve is a catch and someone is bound to catch his eye. But Eddie-- Not that Eddie had seriously considered he would ever have a chance with Steve. Sure, he had hoped that his romantic efforts might be swayed in Eddie’s direction and it had certainly felt like there was something building between them. So, it struck him to the core hearing that Steve might have a date planned. 

“No, nope!” Steve began dramatically flailing his arms, reminiscent of Robin’s awkwardness. 

Robin ducked out of his reach when he attempted to cover her face. “Found him daydreaming while writing out ideas on one of the store’s order forms.” 

Eddie couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped at Robin’s spirit fingers despite the wobbly smile he was forcing. He hummed in interest, conflicted between wanting this direction of conversation to end and digging up more information on his competition.

“And what are these brilliant plans Stevie concocted?” Eddie crooned at a flushed Steve, who was looking upwards like he might be praying for the ground to open up and swallow him. Or maybe not that specifically, this was still Hawkins afterall so who knew how long it would be until that happened again. 

“Nothin-” Steve muttered.

“No clue! All I saw was ‘picnic at S.R.’, which I assume means Skull Rock, and ‘mixtape with three question marks’. There was definitely more but dingus here crumbled it up before I could read any of it.” Robin interrupted then punched Steve lightly at the end of her revelation. “And he refuses to tell me who this mystery girl is.”

“A mixtape? Oh, he must be serious about this mystery date.” Steve flushed further at Eddie’s teasing. He said nothing to deny it, which crushed Eddie’s heart further. 

Eddie heard the bell ring again behind him. Steve immediately jumped for the chance at a real distraction as he greeted the customer. 

“Hi! Welcome to Family Video,” Steve had a bit of a frenzied tone in his voice that Eddie doubted the stranger picked up on. “Robin here will help you if you need any assistance.”

Steve’s luck must have been turning in his favor as the customer insisted Robin direct her to a specific aisle. The two appeared to have a silent argument before Robin got stuck recommending movies to a seemingly very picky customer. 

Steve slumped forward dramatically, leaning into Eddie’s space. Eddie allowed himself a small respite to admire the way Steve’s lashes touched his cheeks and how he appeared to relax in Eddie’s orbit. 

“So, I’m curious about this mystery date that you’re tryin’ to keep under wraps.” Eddie would blame his sadist nature for asking Steve about his affections. “I’m almost offended you’ve not mentioned this before, here I thought we were forging an unbreakable bond.”

“Don’t need to tell you if you already know.” Steve mumbled as he rolled his eyes. Already know? Eddie’s eyes bug out for a second as he ponders when Steve mentioned this mystery girl. Because he would’ve remembered the all consuming jealousy he struggled to keep inside, much like this exact moment. 

“Must be pretty special. But y’know you can always pick my brain for ideas if you wanted.” Eddie tried not to choke on the words as they came out. 

“Yeah, they’re real special.” Steve whispered as he held eye contact. Eddie breathed sharply when Steve’s arm settled against his own. Maybe he was wrong…or right? “Just feel like…if we get one night, that things will finally…y’know.”

“Well, can’t go wrong with a mix. It speaks to the heart, no matter the genre.” He was testing the waters, Steve seemed to be focused on his words. Eddie felt like he was damning his heart to be broken. “And as cool as Skull Rock is, I’d probably plan something a little more…romantic.”

“Gotcha.” Steve was grinning again. “So more like candle lit dinner, maybe pot roast then dessert?”

“That’s more like it, Stevie.” Eddie clapped in support. He was starting to get the urge to run. Part of him was bursting with hope, because it sounded like Steve making plans with him rather than asking for advice. He was struggling figuring out what to believe, so he decided to give into his desire to flee. “Anyway, gotta get back. See’ya later!”

Steve’s own farwell trailed after him, though he only caught him saying Eds which his mind replayed the whole drive back to the trailer. When he finally dropped onto the couch, all he could think about was how excited Steve looked about his plans. 

[gurugirl]

https://www.tumblr.com/gurugirl/717253767497695232/loving-with-all-these-ideas-in-from-the-asks-l-im?source=share

imagine the surprise on jessica or another coworker's face if they saw them out or her coming to see him at the office and he is being all over her, i know he would go manic if anyone gave even the lightest judgemental look to her but he also would bring it up to her after when they are alone "such a little slut uh, acting all shy and cute around everyone but still fucked a married man without thinking twice and got all those gifts, my little whore..."

okay just gonna write this real quick...

**This is a little blurb to go with The Arrangement**

Took 30 minutes to write this 😬 Apologies for the lack of editing and proofreading. I should be doing other things but felt inspired? lol! Hope you enjoy :)

1905 words

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, DDlg, degradation, slight exhibitionism

Y/n didn’t have a class that day so she spent part of her morning lounging in her silk pajamas, sipping on cold brew coffee, and working ahead on an assignment due on Friday. But she had the idea that she’d go and visit Harry at the office. Plus it’d be fun to see everyone again.

After taking a shower and picking out a cute outfit from their walk-in closet she called a taxi to take her downtown. She sent a quick text once she was on her way.

Headed to the office. See you soon xxx

She figured she’d meet him for lunch. Maybe he could get out of the building for a bit.

Harry was in a meeting when she texted him but he saw her note and smiled to himself. He didn’t need to worry about anything. He and his wife were done. Sean sold him his part of the company and shares so he wasn’t around. And if anyone even so much as dared look at Y/n with any kind of contempt he’d set the record straight. There were already whispers of his new relationship with Y/n. What Sean had done with his wife. The divorce Harry was in the middle of.

When she stepped into the front of the office the office receptionist jumped from her seat and greeted Y/n with a warm smile, “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Nothing to drink for me. I can wait out front until Harry’s done with his meeting,” she said as she gestured toward the sitting area.

“Nonsense. I’ll bring you to Mr. Styles’ office to wait there. It’s a nicer view anyway. I’m sure he’d prefer you there.”

Following the receptionist toward Harry’s office Y/n was stopped by Jessica, “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped out of the meeting just as Jessica and Y/n were speaking.

“Oh! Hi! I’m just here to say hi to everyone. Wanted to see Harry real quick. How have you been?”

Y/n really wanted to get the attention off of herself. She realized most people knew that she and Harry were a bit of a thing at this point. But she still felt shy about being so open with it.

“I’m well. So you’re here to see Harry, huh? How’s that going?”

Y/n looked down at her expensive shoes and then shrugged before looking back at Jessica, “It’s good. Yeah.” She smiled shyly.

Harry walked up behind them at that and grabbed Y/n’s hand and gently pulled at her, “Hi darling. Come with me to my office?” He looked at Y/n as he spoke before turning to speak to Jessica, “You don’t mind if I pull her away for a bit do you?”

“Not at all. Nice to see you, Y/n.”

The moment Harry had his office door closed and locked he grabbed his little girl by her hip and pulled her into him, “What are you doing here?” He put his hands into her hair gently running his finger through it.

“Just wanted to see you. Thought maybe I could get you out of the office for a little lunch,” she smiled sweetly.

“Oh, it’s food you want? Interesting…” he continued with his fingers in her hair, “Thought you came here to show off. Let everyone know who you belong to now.”

“Harry…” she spoke softly, “that’s not why I’m here. I just-“

“Looking so cute and innocent in front of everyone. Showing off all the gifts I’ve bought you,” he nudged at her ear with his thumb over the Cartier diamond earrings he’d bought her, “It’s because you want everyone to know you’re Daddy’s little slut. Isn’t that right?”

“I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” she grasped his hand and moved it up to her lips so she could kiss his fingers, “I just missed you a little today. Thought it would be fun to see you,” she spoke between kisses as she kept her eyes on him.

“Just wanted to see me… Well, here I am. And I’ve already eaten lunch. It’s 2 pm, little girl. I have a feeling you came here for a different kind of fun.”

She smirked and then lowered her gaze to his lips as she dropped his hand and put her arms over his shoulders, “Just missed you, Daddy.”

Harry grinned and gave in to kiss her lips finally. She tasted sweet and smelled delicious. And her cute new dress fit her perfectly. Harry held her out in his arms and looked down over her outfit, “I do have good taste, don’t I?”

Y/n nodded and giggled as she looked down over her dress. She hadn’t worn this one yet. It was a little short and her heels were a little high. She’d also purposely put on a skimpy thong in hopes of him pushing it to the side and touching her or fucking her even.

“You really have everyone fooled, you naughty girl. They think you’re so sweet and shy but really, you had an arrangement with a filthy rich married man who gave you his credit card and then you stole him from his wife and now look at you,” he put his hand around her throat and pushed her back toward the couch in his office, “Shacked up with me, taking all my money, getting fucked every night, and pampered to your heart's content. You’re not innocent.”

Her blood rushed to her extremities and her head began to feel light and floaty like she usually did around him. Her pussy clenched and she moaned at his words and how he squeezed her neck softly.

“Sit down.” He gestured to the couch behind her as he let go of her neck.

She complied, holding the bottom hem of her dress as she put her bottom onto the soft cushion.

Harry sat next to her and leaned back into the couch, “Undo my pants.” He said but when she hesitated he continued, “Come on. I haven’t got all day. I’m a busy man, Y/n.”

She turned her body toward him and began to undo his pants. Harry brought a hand to her chin and grasped it to move her face to look up at him, “Haven’t got time for pleasantries. I’ve got a meeting in,” he lifted his wrist and looked at his expensive watch, “25 minutes.”

Y/n nodded as she unzipped his pants and sat back to wait for his next instructions, “Bend over the arm of the couch, put your pussy on the corner there so you can rub your clit while I fuck you.”

Quickly she got up and draped her body over the arm of the couch, placing herself at the edge where she could get enough friction from the couch. But truly, she didn’t care if she came or not. She was only there to please him. To let him come and get off.

Harry lifted her dress up as he pulled himself out of his briefs and tsk’d at her, “Desperately wet already. Just as I suspected. You’re going to make a mess of my couch, aren’t you?”

Y/n turned her head to look at Harry as he hooked a finger into the flimsy material and pulled it to the side so he could look at her pussy, “I’m always wet for you, Daddy,” she spoke quietly with rounded eyes.

Harry grinned and nodded, “I know you are baby.”

Harry braced himself with one arm on the back of the couch as he pushed himself into her. They both gasped at the delicious feeling of being connected. Two bodies as one. Moving together, breathing one another in, deeply attached and intrinsically joined.

When he’d dipped in as far as his balls would allow Y/n let out a groan that was too loud so Harry used his free hand to cover her mouth as he continued to rail into her, “Shhh… thought you wanted to keep up the appearance of being innocent. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what kind of whore you are, getting fucked on the couch in my office right next to the break room. Anyone in there could have heard you. Is that what you want?” Harry panted his words as he worked himself into her, the couch began to lightly bang into the wall at his thrusts, “You want people to hear how good I give it to you? How hard I make you come?”

Y/n’s eyes were rolled into the back of her head. She was happy to be a hole for him to come in but his cock always felt so good inside of her. And the cloth of the arm of the couch pressed into her pelvis and clit just right. She was glad his hand was over her mouth because he was driving into her deeply and each time he bottomed out she grunted into his hand unintentionally.

Harry spoke quietly into her ear as he continued fucking her, his balls whacking into her flesh, the obscene sound of wet pussy being fucked and skin colliding in repeated cadence in time with the couch hitting the wall, “I bet they all have their ears pressed to the door right now. They can all hear you little pussy getting fucked hard. That’s what you wanted, Y/n? Wanted to show off how good your cunt gets pounded?”

Her gurgles were muffled and Harry’s palm was wet with her saliva. He could tell she was drooling. He could see how red her face was and that she had goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes were fluttering. She was about to come. Which was good because so was he and he had to get going. His guests would be meeting with him in his office and he knew there would be a bit of cleanup involved.

“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock again? Didn’t you just come on his cock this morning, baby? Fffuck, my little girl is so needy. Needs Daddy’s come inside of her, doesn’t she? Poor thing. Wants to get knocked up and keep me forever doesn’t she?”

Y/n moaned and her walls clenched Harry’s cock as her orgasm took over. Her limbs stiffened and she grasped onto the material of the couch. Yes. She wanted all of that. If she could keep him forever, make him give her babies, and then he’d have to keep her.

Harry hissed at how tight her pussy gripped him but he continued his thrusts until he began spurting into her, punching into her deeply so his come could coat her and fill her insides.

Y/n opened her eyes when Harry released his hand from over her mouth and put her panties back into place. He helped her up and kept her in his arms, kissing her temple, “Okay to walk out of here like you are? Or do need a minute?”

She gulped and wiped under her eyes with one hand as she clutched onto Harry’s arm with her other, “I just need to wipe my face and calm myself a little.”

“Whatever you need. I have a mirror behind the cabinet door if you need it.”

Y/n straightened herself out and waved her hands over her face to cool down a bit as Harry wiped up the couch and then got his laptop ready for the meeting.

“Okay. I’m good now,” she smiled as she picked up her purse from the coffee table.

Harry kissed her forehead, “See you tonight at home at 7.”

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[rreskk]

Hello mother of Trevor smut!

Do you write for Michael? And if so... I am in dire need of Micheal fucking reader in front of Trevor (reader is dating Trevor) and reader moans Michaels name so Uncle T gets mad.

Thank you!! -Anon

A good old angsty- drama AND smutty fanfic??? Yes!

Summary: His best-friend made you feel way better... And he hated it.

TW: -Smut -Drug use

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Michael Townley (slight /Trevor Philips as well)

Word count: 2226

Back in the North Yankton days, it wasn’t uncommon for the boys to share girls for good sex. You’ve seen it yourself when chilling in their motel rooms. While you and Trevor would share smokes and watch crappy movies through this static TV, Michael (or Brad) would have this prostitute in the background, fucking her pussy stupid. They’d take turns as well.

It was hard to get used to considering you’ve never seen people so open and shameless about their sex addictions. Even Trevor’s sex-drive was a complete shock to you after every night of sex, he’d wake up horny still. You were constantly bouncing on his dick whenever he wasn’t hiding from authorities or doing God knows what with Mikey and Brad.

However, this one night had changed everything.

Trevor had brought you along to this fairly cheap, shitty motel room. It was in the middle of nowhere. Literally.

“Bro, I’m telling you,” Brad was in a middle of an argument with Trevor, “I’m looking at this fucking map and there’s no booze store or strip-joint nearby.”

You were holding both yours and Trevor’s rucksacks as they continued to bicker heatedly. It was a normal thing.

Michael had sat down beside you with a tired expression. He ogled you for a moment before smiling. Your relationship with Mikey was sweet and close. He always looked out for you in such ways that made you feel… Important. Although you loved Trevor, he didn’t have that “boyfriend material” to him. Unlike Michael. He was pure “husband material” from the way he’d help clean all your clothes, protect you from Trevor’s occasional tantrums, drive you places, steal you period products (etc…)

“You’re a fuckin’ prick!” You heard your boyfriend cry as he’d storm over and snatch his bag from your arms. He hurried through it, pulling out a stash of cocaine and stomping to the small bathroom.

Sometimes… Just sometimes you looked at Michael and wished he was your boyfriend instead.

And sometimes… You think he knows that.

“Great, he’s in a bad mood – “ The bathroom door slammed shut, “… Again.” Mikey muttered.

“He’s a fucking asshole!” Brad attempted to correct Michael’s vocabulary.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, [y/n]. You deserve better.”

You sighed. Michael was right.

“I’d get myself a proper man, if I were you.” Remarked Brad who kept his concentration on the small map provided by the motel.

 “He is nicer when we are alone.” You tried to comfort yourself.

“Really?”

“Yeah. We cuddle, watch movies together… And, uh… We do other things as well – “

“Have sex, yeah. We know,” Mikey exhaled, “Trevor tells us everything.”

“He does?” You felt your heart ache a little bit. Your nights alone together, you thought it was romantic and sentimental. Now you’re realising that he sees as nothing but a stress relief.

“Yes. Is date nights really just blowjobs and handjobs?” He’d ask.

Being honest was painful. When you nodded, it was basically telling Mikey and Brad that Trevor ain’t worth shit.

“I don’t suppose you know if he actually… Loves me, right?”

Michael was hesitant but kept his composure.

“He does love you. He just struggles with expressing it,” He’d tried to explain, “He does think of you a lot, trust me. He knows he ain’t the model boyfriend, but he can’t help it.”

“Right.”

“He’s a bit loco, [y/n].” Brad whistled.

“Listen, [y/n]… I know it’s hard being around him. I mean, I’ve known the dickhead for years and he’s always been pretty manic.” Michael was sitting close to you at this point.

“Well, yeah, he’s literally snorting coke right no – “

“Brad, shut up!” Mikey groaned, his hand hesitantly touching your thigh as he returned his attention to you.

“He’s emotionally unstable.” You’d whisper.

“Very…”

Silence overcame you both. Your eyes drifted to his hand-placements, finding yourself happy when he fondled your legs and sit as close as he could. When making eye-contact, you both smiled warmly.

“I still can’t believe that lucky bastard managed to charm you.” He’d whisper before leaning close, sight fixating on your lips.

You had the temptation for a while, now it was within your reach. The risk… He was only in the other room filling himself with every drug imaginable. You hoped if he was to see this, he’d be too high to see or function.

Bradley noticed the increased tension of you both and sucked in his lips. He decided – last minute – to turn his back and “pretend” he wasn’t aware of what was going on (a cowardice action to avoid confrontation since… He didn’t want to be the target of any fury).

Then he heard shifting on the other bed and cringed. Trevor’s totally going to kill Michael.

You were lying under him as he leaned closer before your lips touched. Your hands touched his shaved head, clasping his jacket, feeling his jaw when you both grew very indulged throughout the kiss.

Michael would continuously peer over his shoulder before you both began stripping clothes. He was anxious as well, you could tell. You didn’t want this to disturb his performance so you guided his lips against your neck and begged him to carry on. He was quick to react and made love to every inch of your exposed skin until you were a hopeless mess. 

“You don’t want him to hear…” Mikey murmured in your ear, his hands removing your shirt and bra.

“Guys, c’mon… If you’re gonna fuck, I ain’t gonna stay around!” You heard Bradley murmur as he stumbled out of the motel room.

“Good riddance.” Michael’s voice rumbled against your neck, his tongue leaving trails of his saliva, reaching your collarbone and lower.

No matter how good it felt, each moan shook with guilt. He was only in the other room, you boyfriend, well… Unconfirmed boyfriend (thanks to his possessiveness), and now you were getting freaky with his best friend.

“Oh, fuck – “ You’d struggle when he kissed down your stomach.

Then a deep ruckus occurred in the bathroom, the sound of things being dropped and whatnot. It was followed by a deep, slurred voice (after the digestion of cocaine).

“Baaaabbeeee!” Trevor called from behind the closed door, “Where’s my fuckin’… Lighter? It ain’t in my fuckin’ bag!”

Mikey froze and gazed up at you. He mouthed something but you were too busy panicking.

“[y/n]? Answer me, baby! I want to have my weed!”

“I- I think… I think it’s, uh…”

“Argh, I found it! It was in my fuckin’ hand.” Shouted Trevor as Michael breathed out in relief and continued kissing your tummy pouch and hips.

His lips reached your pantie lines and your hand itched, grabbing the back of his head for support. He’d grunt in response before pulling down your panties and looking up, waiting for your signal.

“What if he…” Your words trailed off when you stared into his blue eyes. It instantly melts you.

“[y/n], it’ll be okay.”

And with that, you nodded and lifted up your hips for him to confiscate your panties. Michael smiled warmly. He threw it aside and hovered over your naked body. He skipped the usual foreplay you were used to with Trevor. It was weird not having him suck your boobs, leave huge marks on your neck, make out until your lips were swollen.

It was refreshing… Yet when he pulled your legs up to line himself with your wet cunt, it was just hard to miss that extra loving.

“Ah, yes!” Your thoughts about Trevor were washed away when Michael pushed into your pussy. He caressed your thighs when thrusting in and out, holding your legs over his shoulders.

“There we go…” His words were comforting and soft, the opposite of him.

“Oh, God… It’s so good, Mikey! – “

You both were unaware of the bathroom door opening. Facing the bed, Trevor’s high-state quickly crashed down. He held the blunt in his mouth and stared at Michael, who was making you moan louder than he’s ever heard.

The betrayal, jealousy. He was ENRAGED.

“Fuck, fuck!” Your whimpers combined with Mikey’s grunts sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Trevor.

The shock he felt made it hard to speak. He just stood there, weak. He let the blunt drop from his mouth as he watched his best friend fuck his girl. Trevor ogled the way your body shook when being fucked. He watched you stare up at Michael with nothing but pure lust and admiration. The jealousy quickened after your moans only increased in pitch.

“Mikey!”

Deciding to make his awareness known, Trevor stepped closer to the bed and make eye-contact with you. You gasped and held your breasts, as if that helped the situation.

“Uh, yeah… Oh, fuck – what? Huh?” Michael noticed your shocked expression before he peered over his shoulder and saw the murderous glare from his best buddy, “Shit, Trevor, bro! – “

“The fuckin’ fuck! Are you fuckin’ my girl, Mikey? What… [y/n]? What the fuck is this!” He’d outrageously shout, eyes burning with Hell.  

“Trevor,” You breathed as Mikey continued to thrust despite being caught, “Please, Trevo – Ah! Michael! Yes!” Then he found your G-spot, ruining your chance of an explanation by pathetically moaning his best friends name.

“Sorry, Trevor.” He’d pant through the cycle of hitting your G-spot until you were both on the edge of a good orgasm.

Even though he was completely furious and psychotic, whenever Trevor watched you moan, it was arousing. He held his tongue. He developed a boner, raging like his anger. He wanted to yell, he wanted to punch Mikey, but most of all, he wanted in. He tried to ignore this fantasy by screaming insults at you both.

“YOU ARE BOTH JUDAS!”

Yet it toned down after he couldn’t contain himself. Michael, using his thumb, rubbed your clit as he thrusted deeper and deeper into your pussy. He worked hard to see you so beautifully shaken.

“Mikey! Ah! Yes!” You’d moan unconsciously.

Trevor leaned against the wall, pulling out his erection and rubbing it raw. His glare remained fixated on you. He jacked off to you being fucked stupid dumb. He pleasured himself dry, wishing he was in Michael’s place. The jealousy. He was in anguish knowing that you were receiving the best sex of your life.

“I fuckin’ hate you both.” Trevor growled from the wall, his hand beating his cock until it was bruised and swollen.

“I’M GONNA CUM, MIKEY!”

“I fuckin’… hate you…” Your boyfriends voice turned into harsh whispers as he was intensely motivated on jacking off.

“[y/n]… [y/n]…” Michael breathed and jerked his hips into your, crying out your name. His penis shivered and soon enough, you gasped as you climaxed, cum caking his dick that was begging for disclosure.

“AH! YES!”

He fucked you through the orgasm before pulling out and touching his tip, encouraging his semen to squirt and paint your tummy. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled. The climax, for Michael, looked much needed since he stumbled onto his knees and placed a hand on your breast, struggling to breathe.

“Mmm.” Trevor huffed when witnessing the hot-mess. He clawed his cock, even though it was burning with brutality. He whispered your name and when he made eye-contact with your guilty face, his mood grew more hostile and his masturbation got increasingly heavy.

Michael quickly stood up and tucked away his length, deciding that he had tortured his buddy enough. He gave you knowing glance, a signal to maybe… Get dressed and leave the room to give him some space.

“I thought we were done with sharing her. She’s my girl, now.” Trevor grunted at Mikey, his hand suffocating his cock.

“She needed some real love.”

“Fuck you, Mikey. Fuck you. FUCK YOU!”

“Sharing is caring…” Was the last thing he could say before a lamp was thrown his way.

You took that sign and dressed yourself, following Michael’s lead out towards the door before he called your name.

“[y/n]… Don’t fuckin’ leave. We ain’t finished here.”

“Trevor, I’m sorry, I really am – “

“Save it. Just stay here. I ain’t gonna let that cunt touch your pussy again, you hear me?” He hissed.

“I am sorry though.”

“Oh, yeah. You looked it.”

“Trevor – “

“I don’t do forgiveness. You can’t even earn that shit from me. But I’ll get my way.” Words barely made it out clear as he was close to his orgasm as well, masturbating with pure stamina due to the high drugs in his system.

You sighed, shame making you feel sick.

“C’mere…” He’d order.

You hesitantly walked over before he came all into his hands, moaning your name in the process. He made you watch as his dick squirted semen against his shaky palms.

“Yeess…” His groans were low-key, almost sounding angry itself.

Then he wiped all that cum onto your face with a sick grin. He rubbed every inch until you were covered.

“There we go… I feel a tiny bit better…”

It was so warm and sticky. You held back the urge to shiver considering it was overstimulating. Trevor then caressed your bottom lip before he walked past you, his shoulder brushing against yours. He walked out of the motel room in silence and left you to think about what you have done, and what is about to happen next.