#actually it's angel made from neon you know

[inanearlierr]

Killjoys made from neon

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area 9

masterpost

“Good morning!”

Jason winced and moved the phone a little further from his face. “Is this Doctor Fenton?” 

“It's one of them! What can I do ya for?” Jack Fenton boomed, just as bombastic as his newsletter made him seem. Jason knew, deep in his heart, that Jack Fenton was indeed the one who had selected green neon bold for his headings and borders. 

Angels wept. Jason scrubbed his palm over his eye. This man had no poetry in his soul. “I, uh, had some questions about a ghost. I've read some of your articles and your most recent published paper on the topic.”

“We love ghosts!” Fenton bellowed. “Ask away!”

“Do you know a ghost called Phantom?” Jason tried.

“...Sure do,” Jack Fenton said. “Whatcha need?” 

Jason cleared his throat. “It's somewhat complicated,” he said evasively, because he didn't need these people to know he was the Red Hood. Fuck. He should have either gotten his helmet stored away or not given his real name. Phantom knew his face and that his name was Jason. Any information that got around via Phantom might tie his face to his alter ego. If Phantom said he got married to Jason, the Red Hood, that could lead to the end of the Bat family vigilantism.

“...He cause you trouble, sport?”

Jason let out a slight laugh. “You could say that, though it wasn't really his fault,” he admitted. He cast a paranoid eye out the window to be sure no siblings were creeping on him. “No, it's really more that…” Fuck, he should have planned this better. “Is there any information you can give me about how a human could contact him?” 

Not that Jason didn't have a phone number for the guy. But it made him very uncomfortable to have any basic knowledge or way to track Phantom down if he decided to leave Jason to whatever was going on. 

“I could probably do that,” Jack Fenton said slowly, now sounding like an entirely different human being. “Say, you wouldn't be Jeremy, would you?”

Jason blinked. “...How did you know?” He went with. Phantom had contact with a human guy named Jeremy? That might be his in.

“Oh, well then, you've definitely got to come over,” Dr. Fenton wheedled. It somehow came across as shifty. “You'll be wanting a whole primer on how the Ghost Zone works, won't ya?” 

“That would be immensely helpful,” Jason agreed. “But I'd hate to take up your valuable time.”

“Nonsense!” Fenton bellowed. Jason nearly lost his grip on his phone in surprise. “Come over Jeremy, I'm dying to meetcha!” 

So, there was a plan. Jason packed for a day trip and dialed up his travel agent. 

“Fuck off,” said Tim. “I'm busy. Christ.” 

“I need an airplane ticket and a rental bike to Illinois,” Jason continued. He tossed his mostly full bag on the sofa and went digging for the socks he knew he had washed the other night. “I'm going to go see some nerds about my impromptu adventure the other day.”

Tim groaned. That was the first Jason had given any hint at all about what had happened to him when he'd been ‘sacrificed.’ “What nerds?” He asked wearily. 

Jason grinned into his sock drawer. Gottem. “Why, do you all know each other?” He asked blithely. 

“Do you always antagonize people you want favors from?” Tim whined. A keyboard clacked rapidly in the background. “Jason, I swear to God, you massive bitch. Cut the crap and communicate, or I'm hanging up.” 

Jason frowned at his socks and grabbed a random pair. “You don't gotta be like that,” he said sulkily. He slammed the socks into his bag with a very unsatisfying silence. “So, the ritual doohickey sent me to the infinite underworld, I met a guy there actually and we are magically connected because he's who that dumb ritual matched me up to. He doesn't want to be stuck with a human so we are on the same page about breaking this. We started looking for answers and he took me back to Earth since it's not good for humans to be in the green dimension for too long.” 

There was silence from the other end of the line for a few seconds. “You're fucking lying,” Tim said. 

“Only by leaving things out.” A bit stung, Jason pulled a hand through his hair and accidentally ruined his good hair day. 

“What are you leaving out?” Tim rejoined swiftly.

Jason laughed at him. “You think you're getting that kinda information in exchange for plane tickets?” He asked incredulously. 

“You are the most annoying person who has ever tried to kill me.”

Ouch. That genuinely stung.

“Fuck off.” Jason slammed the drawers shut. 

“I could guess aliens or supernatural off of what you just said.” Tim ignored Jason’s very good point. “Based off of your trip to the Gotham U campus and-”

“Are you still stalking me?” Jason cut him off, incredulous. He scoffed. “Little buddy, you already got my pixie boots, Red Robin costume, and my Dad. What else do you wanna take from me?”

“I think that you were there to assess Daniel Fenton,” Tim ignored him.

Jason was silent for a moment. There was probably no point in pretending that Tim was wrong. “You already knew about the Fenton’s connection to the supernatural.” He was suddenly tired.

“His older sister is an intern at Arkham, she stepped out of line to get a chance to talk to Jeremy Waters.” Tim didn’t seem to notice that the mood had changed. He was caught up on whatever twenty level plan was whirring away internally.

Jason looked at the wall for a moment, not bothering to think about why that name was familiar. “...and that is…?”

“The guy who kidnapped you, keep up,” Tim snarked. “Her supervisor guessed what she was hinting at, shut her down, put a note about it in the private server so there was a paper trail if she turns out to be a collaborator.”

““Private” is a strong word to describe that server.” Jason rubbed at his jawline and hefted his bag out to the bathroom to gather his shaving kit. 

“Mmhm,” Tim said blandly. “I bugged her phone. The signal is absurdly bad, unexplainably bad. She doesn’t send a lot of messages, but she had a very suspicious call with Daniel Fenton where, among other things, she hinted she had inside knowledge regarding some kind of local mystery, possibly criminal activity. Her brother accused her of supporting crime.”

Jason groaned. “I’m going to interview their parents.” He checked that the razor blades were stowed away correctly before snapping shut the travel case. Then he noticed that his bathroom mirror could use a wipedown. He left his bag for a moment to dig for the cleaner.

“Probably for the best,” Tim said, definitely misunderstanding his purpose. “They seem…” He trailed off when he couldn’t find an appropriate adjective.

“You should read a book,” Jason said, because he saw an opportunity to be an asshole. “Anyway, I wanna get out to the area tonight and see them in the morning. What’s my flight?” He spritzed the glass and watched his reflection blur. It was oddly comforting to not have to stare at his green eyes.

‘That ghost zone was the same green as the Lazarus Pits,’ Jason thought dully. He didn’t really want to think about it. But he had a pretty good idea why he hadn’t had the reaction to the place that Danny expected a human to have.

“Kon could take you,” Tim said sweetly, which was basically a death threat. It was enough to jar him back to the real world. Kon was still not feeling chill about the Titans Tower scuffle. It probably wasn’t good for him to be so petty, but Jason was not going to be the one to tell baby Superdork that.

Jason winced. “I was thinking more like United.”

Tim snickered. 

[worldume]

TWO DEMONS AND AN ANGEL….

˖┊ spotlight: yamato endo & chika takiishi.

˖┊ synopsis: (name) is endo and chika's favorite coloring book! they love to bully their sweet little lamb into doing things she’s not comfortable with. why? because they can & its fun!

˖┊ content: dark content, power imbalance relationship, bullying, themes of humiliation, implied polygamy, toxic relationship, coerced piercing, christina piercing, needles, alcohol transfer from mouth to mouth, afab reader, she/her pronouns, canonverse but endo and chika own a sleazy tattoo shop, tattoo artist endo, piercer chika for lore purposes, all characters are adults/aged up, endo and chika are awful!

˖┊ word count: 2k.

“you scared?”

“n—no but—” (name) stammered under his gaze, her voice cracking as she struggled to find her words. she averted her gaze from him, finding a sudden interest at chika moving about through the room as he gathered a few things around their shop. it was tucked away in a narrow sketchy alley in japan that looked like the kind of place only those in the know would visit— covered in graffiti and old posters with a flickering neon sign. the place had the vibe of a dive bar.

there was a small furrow in her brows and her lips tugged slightly in a glossy pout. no fair.. no fair!

looking at endo was so.. difficult for a couple reasons. number one: he was so fucking attractive. the kind of attractive that made her shy away from his gaze because she started to feel self conscious about everything little thing. did he like her hair? her makeup? the outfit she wore today? but more importantly, he could be just so mean if someone caught him on a bad day— he was finicky with his moods. and sometimes he didn’t want anyone looking him directly in the eye.

she’s witnessed first hand how brutally yamato beats people into a shell of themselves— weak people who he believes test who’s a poser and who’s not. endo is a pretty laid back guys for the most part, but, he has very little respect and tolerance for those who are weak. he thinks they’re boring, a drag and a complete waste of his fucking time. weak people get under his skin. weak people disgust him. weak people don’t deserve to call themselves human. and he couldn’t stand when weak people paraded around as though they weren’t.

but (name) was weak. so it makes her wonder why he keeps her around— why the both of them keep her around.. they’re not laughing at her behind her back right? she helps around.. sure she wasn’t the strongest person physically but she has uses.. or at least that’s what she tells herself.

you see, (name) is a pushover. a people pleaser. and a pathetic excuse for a spine. which is precisely why endo initially took such an interest to the girl— the irony, right? endo was just.. so tickled by it he giggled like a little kid who was told their first joke. he’s never seen anyone quite as pitiful as her. but he supposes women were an exception, right? endo almost found it.. cute? (name)’s looks were really the cherry on top of it all— a pretty little bow to wrap his present. just how could someone as pretty as her be such a.. disappointment. endo almost found it to be a waste of a perfectly good vessel, but.. he found that he gained some sort of sick gratification from bullying (name).

it was fun for him. and something to help pass the time when there’s nothing interesting going on. it was sad really— some of the things they made her do were nothing more than mere humiliation tactics that served no real purpose other than to see her actually do everything she’s told. no questions asked. like controlling when she use the bathroom, a “dress code” that usually consisted of micro mini skirts and the requirement of no panties, making her call herself awful things when she fails (bitch, slut and whore are some of noroshi’s favorites), her mouth being used as an ashtray— the list can go on.

‘how did such a sweet girl like (name) get caught up in this crowd?’ is what all the sweet townspeople of makochi ask amongst themselves when they see her on an off chance visiting her mom. but no one would be able to guess that she devoted herself to these men by choice. (name) felt as though she were indebted to endo and chika. that she owed the both of them all of herself because they saved her.

there had been a night where she had found herself walking alone after a night out with her friends, she was a little bit more than tipsy and stumbled across an alley she shouldn’t have. (name) remembers it well— stopping to pull out her phone for her gps. (name) hadn’t have been familiar with the area so she hadn’t been quite sure where she was. there was a voice behind her and all she knows is that she was being grabbed— she remembers screaming for help and thinking that it was her end. but that’s when they came to help her.

she remembers endo’s eyes that night when he got on one knee to match her level— her eyes drifting to chika who stood behind him. (name) couldn’t have been more thankful, they were her saviors..

that was then but now (name) felt as though she were walking on a pit of eggshells and thin ice— something seemingly so simple as holding the eye contact he was so insistent on made her feel uneasy sometimes which was so unfortunate because he has such pretty eyes. as much as she admired him, endo often used eye contact as a tool for intimidation— borderline a threat specifically for her alone. probably because he knew the only real thing he had to do was give her a look and she would submit— cowering like a scared little lamb so scared of getting gobbled right up by the big, bad wolf.

endo followed her gaze, tilting his head as his eyes bored into her own. he could admit that she was more than a looker— that sad, kicked puppy look really does something for him.

“but? but but but? but what.” it was a nasty sneer that left from endo’s lips as he mocked her. his lip curling in a way that screamed he was becoming more and more agitated by her hesitation— her lack of immediate compliance. this wasn’t their obedient little love— she was starting to piss him off.

“nothing— i just..” she trailed off. “will it hurt..? what if i cry?” she asked, looking up at him with the sweetest look. (name) were so naive it hurt. god— he could skull fuck her right now and he knew she’d absolutely love every single moment of it.

“sweetpea, you said you’d do anything for us. you didn’t lie to me did you?” he asked, brows furrowed as though he were actually hurt at the implication he just pulled from his book of manipulation.

“no..! of course not..!” she shook her head quickly.

“then a little pain shouldn’t be an issue, right? all the fights and trouble we get in for you isn’t even comparable.” there is was— he always did this. make her feel like she didn’t appreciate all that they’ve done for her which was her biggest fear.

“yeah, you’re right.. o–okay.. okay.” she let out a shaky breath as she nodded, a small smile growing on her lips as she felt endo’s hand pat her head.

“takiishi~ our little love’s all done bein’ a crybaby. c’mon.” he said.

chika sits down onto the roller stool, scooting over smoothly while the wheels squeaked over the cracked floor tiles so that he’s nestled in between her legs now. he spreads her lips apart, his eyes low as he watches how she clenches around nothing. hm. was she scared or was this arousal? it wouldn’t be the first time chika’s suspected she gets off on that kind of thing..

“wait— please!” panic rose in her chest, her cheeks heating up as she captured chika’s eyes. her pussy was completely bare before him, her thighs raided with tattoos that were more like brands as they stated slogans like ‘property of noroshi,’ ‘endo was here :),’ chika’s initials, and other dehumanizing phrases tattooed on her. to anyone else these could be perceived as insulting and degrading but for (name), she wore each proudly. of course the first time endo talked her into she had her reservations but she really just couldn’t say no, could she?

“will it hurt?” chika hadn’t responded, only opting in for a stare before endo spoke up once again.

“how about this? we’ll give you somethin’ that’ll take the edge off, alright?” he clasped his hands together before spinning on his heel to walk over to a counter where he snagged a bottle of vodka. “some old fashioned anesthesia.” endo smiled as he turned back around, walking back over to her where she laid.

she eyed the bottle with a look of hesitation on her face— it’s contents half full as the clear liquid sloshed around in the thick glass container. “yamato.. i don’t like to drink..”

“what?” he raised his brow as he twisted off the cap. “you know, you really shouldn’t mumble, sweetheart. i can’t hear a damn word you say.” but endo knew good and well that heard her as clear as day.

“n—nothing.. ‘m sorry. let’s do it..”

“no shot glasses or anything fancy like that but— i like doing it like this.” his hand finds its way to the crown of her head to tilt her head at an angle. he takes a swig of the vodka, holding it in his mouth for a moment before leaning in close to her and pressing his lips to her own. endo transfers the liquid in a slow controlled flow, the alcohol passing from one mouth to the other.

“mmf..!” the taste is awful and (name) told herself she’d never be able to get used to it but the warmth she was starting to feel a few seconds later seemed to help with her anxiety just a bit.

endo crouched down a bit to her level on piercing bed, an obnoxious smile on his lips as he watches on.

chika’s gloved hands aligned the needle, hovering just above the skin as the sharp tip gleamed under the light. his moment is skillfully controlled, fingers firm but gentle— the cold metal of the needle presses lightly against the flesh, the sensation a mix of cool steel and the warmth of skin contact. just before the needle penetrates, there’s a brief pause..

(name) let out a shriek as she felt the needle pierce through her flesh— the initial sensation was sharp, a pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. her toes curled and her hand flew to endo’s dark locks, involuntarily pulling his head back as her body started to writhe and lift at the pain. but it had been over as soon as it happened— chika’s fingers were nimble and worked quickly as he threaded the dainty jewelry through. the pain shifted into a dull ache and a sense of relief washed over her when chika spoke: “it’s finished.”

“fuck yeah— let’s see it.” endo said as he reached for the hand mirror sitting on the tray stand beside chika. (name) couldn’t help the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, a sniffle or two escaping from her lips.

there was slight throb where the jewelry laid as she sat up to look down at the mirror. the gem was her favorite color— she had to admit that it looked pretty good.

“she’s gonna be outta commission for a while, baby.” endo cooed at her. “you like?”

“yeah.. it’s cute.” she giggled breathlessly. “i did.. i did good, right?” (name) asked, her eyes screaming for approval.

“so good— let’s take a picture and show the guys, yeah?”

© all content belongs to worldume 2024. do not, translate, modify or repost to any other platforms.

[angelcent]

𝟑:𝟎𝟏𝐀𝐌

summary. toji comes home late at night from a job. he reflects on his love for you.

tags. established relationship, modern au, hitman!toji, fluff, introspection, toji is in love and can’t believe it, oral sex (f.recieving), suggestive. wc.2k+

note. based on my fic series, but can be read as a standalone. the reader and toji are unofficially engaged. inspired by rainy nights & gymnopedie. re-posted <3

toji regrets passing on the umbrellas strategically placed outside of the 24 hour Family Mart in the pouring rain. the fabric of his worn black jacket practically seeped into into his shoulders, weighing him down. there'd be a storm tonight, no doubt.

his phone died before getting on the last bullet train to tokyo so he hadn’t expected the sudden onslaught of rain. the weather greeted toji like a whirlwind when he stepped out the train—sharp and unforgiving against his sore muscles. 

still, he was too preoccupied with getting home, barely giving the umbrella stand a second glance as he made his way through kabukicho. the red light district was busy despite the weather and late hour; people crowding clubs and bars to escape the cold. even the hostess girls and scammers have retreated from the rain.

toji ignored it all, practically dragging himself through the narrow neon lit streets. his shoulders were heavy and sunken with the fatigue of a weeks long job, but toji was solely focused on getting back home.

to you.

he knows this neighborhood more than any other; knows all the restaurants that give shady men like him good discounts and the illegal gambling rooms hidden amongst ordinary establishments. he knows exactly where to pick up women that are eager to give him a good time with no consequences.

all of his past vices are right at his fingertips, so close that he can easily imagine blowing through his entire payment in a few hours. but none of this calls to him anymore, though. there's nothing in these fleeting excitements that draw him in. he's a man with a future now.

the apartment is pitch black when he enters, save for the glow of the small nightlight plugged into the genkan, only ever on when you’re expecting him in the early hours of the night. the soft orange glow greets toji home like the kiss of your loving sunlight—a sweet reminder of your consideration. it softens some of the violence that remains inside of him after a contract that ends, with bloody hands being scrubbed clean inside a motel bathroom.

because a bastard like him somehow found you in the turbulent shitstorm that was his life. toji fushiguro found another kind soul who loved him and kept him close to their heart. you were the angel who healed his wounds with your bright laugh and reminded him that good things were still possible despite all that’s happened. to him, you represented a future that didn’t end in sorrow and bloodshed and loneliness.

the downpour was muted through the building, thumping heavy against the rooftop. the frigid breeze no longer reached him. it was comfortably warm inside.

removing his jacket and shoes, he made his way through your shared shitty 1K—a one room studio apartment with a kitchenette and not much else. one could say this place was his home, but toji’s home was anywhere that you or megumi resided in. in the kitchenette was the sink and a small counter space with a microwave on top. beside it was the fridge and stuck to it with a miffy magnet was a post-it that read: 

left some shogayaki for you, it’s in the blue container! the sencha is in the cabinet. drink some to warm you up! wake me when you’re back ♡

cute. actually, the soft kitten snores that reached his ears were even more adorable.

the rain pattered against the balcony door as he stopped by the bed tucked into a corner. this place was too cramped for a man like him, let alone a couple and occasionally a child. toji couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of here, to give you and megumi a home that you deserved. to be done with this shady lifestyle.

you stirred as the bed dipped with his weight. “t’ji?”

“hey babe,” he murmured, softer than he intended. softer than he ever felt capable of. the storm outside continued on, now raging on the streets of tokyo. “just got back.”

i’m home. fuck, when did the tides inside of him calm? 

toji's lips curl up as your small hands blindly felt up his arms and chest with a dubious hum. because you don’t fully know just how cutthroat he is when he’s not being your boyfriend. your soon to be husband. “mm. you’re ok? not hurt?”

half asleep and you’re still fussing over him. the devotion and sweetness of your love made his teeth ache sometimes. it took all of his sins and washed them away like the storm just outside the window. now, toji was a softie who turned down risky jobs despite the big paychecks that they promised. 

all because he had a girl and a son to come home to.

“who do ya think i am?” toji scoffs, pinching your nose between two thick fingers. he tugged gently, grinning at your lazy swats in retaliation. you reminded him of the kittens at the cat cafe that you had gone to when you first began dating. “hm? have some faith in me. i always get the job done just fine, no big deal.”

smacking his hand away with a grunt, your palm curled over his cold nape to pull him down for a kiss. in the dark of the room with the moonlight blanketed by dark clouds, his lips blindly met the corner of your mouth instead. huffing a soft laugh, you turned slightly to give him a proper kiss.

it’s something you always insist on, to give him a welcoming kiss home no matter what hour he returns. he thought it fuzzy and clingy at first, a testament to your almost decade age difference, but the gesture has grown on him.

toji hums low in the back of his throat, pressing you back against the bed with the weight of his much larger body. his tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the minty mouthwash from the hundred yen store down the street. your body unconsciously adjusts for him, allowing him to pin you down fully the way he's done so many times. his hand settles over the curve of your waist, and the little whimper you let out has him reaching down to unbutton his pants.

before he can do so, you let out a shaky gasp and pushed him away. albeit reluctantly. “wait! go shower first, you stink!”

toji scowled. “tch. no I fuckin’ don’t, you little brat. the motel had a bathroom.”

“yeah, and the stuff there is crap ‘cause I can tell you smoked. you didn’t take the travel kit i made for you! i spent all day in shibuya looking something you wouldn’t hate only for—”

flipping the blanket over your face, toji got up with a groan. he ignored your muffled curses. “fine! i’ll go take one, shit. what a fuckin’ moodkiller.”

dodging the pillow you threw towards his back, he allowed himself to smile at your continued cursing. the kansai accent and slang always slips out when you’re upset and it’s the cutest fucking thing. he doubts you’re even aware of it so it’s just for him to enjoy.

a quick hot shower later, toji wiped at the foggy mirror. looking at his reflection, he allowed himself to settle into the tranquilty of the apartment. the edge of a job released with the sigh he let out. he came to terms with the fact that the blood would never wipe clean from his hands. no matter what, toji was tainted with the death of more than he could count. 

he still didn’t care that the lives that he took were worth nothing more than horse races, cigarettes, tokens, cigars, and petty material possessions. it was a life that he felt shackled to—choked down into. 

but outside the small bathroom door was his salvation. 

emerging from the bathroom in only sweatpants, toji found you standing in the kitchen. your back was faced towards him, taking something out of the microwave to place on your miniscule countertop. the small space smelled of pork and ginger; you had gotten up to heat up his dinner. it wasn’t until he met you that he realized how small gestures could contain so much love. 

toji walked towards you, taking a quick glance at the clock against the wall that read 3:01am. is this considered an early breakfast, then?

unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently pulling you against his broad chest. you didn’t mind this, instead humming contently and settling back against him while you stirred his food. it was all so comfortable and familiar; it’s something he’s done hundreds of times now. toji placed a kiss at your temple, soothed by the scent of your coconut shampoo and jasmine body wash. generic products that countless women in tokyo could be found wearing, yet they were something novel and fresh on you. it was something he couldn’t get enough of.

in fact, he could never get enough of you.

“did ya miss me?” toji crooned into the shell of your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth to suckle on. your responding whimper had his gut tightening in arousal. “'cause i missed you. you’ve got no idea how badly, babe. these long jobs almost aren't worth the fuckin’ money anymore.”

a sigh escaped your lips as you gave him more access to kiss down your jaw and neck, leaving little nips. "mmm, i missed you every single day. i even started missing seeing your dirty clothes all over the place."

"that so?" toji hums in amusement, giving your hips a slow squeeze. the stirring in his gut only grows at your proximity. the softness of your skin, the delicious sounds you make, how small you feel beside him.

perfect girl. his perfect girl.

"mhm, it was lonely without you," a shiver crawls up your spine at toji's big hands caressing you. you mutually find each other irresistable, often unable to stop once you've begun. "but you should eat first...we have all day tomorrow to..."

you trail off when toji licks up your neck, feeling a familiar bulge at your backside.

“I had to listen to you play with that sweet cunt through the shitty burner phone,” he grunts into your ear. back in that motel he had stroked his cock alongside your moans, filling his ears with the sounds of your wet pussy. you were so needy and slutty that night, whining filth into the phone while he was cities away. “c‘mon, baby. all you’ve gotta do is sit on my tongue. lemme taste how much you missed me.”

he's playing with your tits now, kneading the soft flesh in his big rough hands. the way you take your lower lip into your mouth tells him all he needs to know. toji sinks to his knees, pushing your hips to rest against the counter as he pays his respects to your sweet cunt. his hands slide the shirt—his shirt—up to expose more of your soft skin to him. plush thighs begging to be bitten into, cute comfortable underwear, smooth belly and a peek of your bare tits.

the rain outside faded into the background, becoming nothing more than a backdrop. toji absently thought of the people he had seen out in the streets; who were nothing but props in this moment. this moment was suspended in time between your bated breaths. the world blurred around him, leaving only you in his line of sight. 

greed has been a companion throughout his life, one that he welcomed with open arms. he's been selfish and quick to give into indulgence, but none hold a candle to you. none had his blood buzzing in his veins the way your body did. that soft and gorgeous body of yours, that cunt that squeezed him so well...

toji smirked, taking notice of the small wet spot over your soft cotton underwear. it made his mouth water, the taste of your cunt ever present in his mind. he rubbed a thumb over your mound, light enough to tease. your breath hitched slightly, sensitive for him as always. “tsk, tsk. don’t know why you try and pretend like you’re not aching for me. look how wet this cunt is, baby.”

he continued on, pressing into your clit until you begin to squirm and beg under your breath. but he wants to get back at you a little for messing with him with that phone call, so he focuses on your clothed pussy. pressing his nose over your mound, toji inhales deeply with a broken groan. when you shyly try to close your thighs, his hands grip around the soft flesh to keep them apart, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to keep you comfortable.

"smell so fucking good," he whispers, licking up the damp cloth to where your pubic hair would begin. the thin fabric is growing more wet against his mouth, and soft curses are spilling from your lips. "gonna devour you."

when your body begins to sink down against him, that's when toji knows to hook a finger over the side of your underwear and show him what he's been thinking of day and night. your pussy is gleaming wet for him, lips puffy and begging to be kissed.

eating your pussy is the final welcome home after a long job—he spreads your lips apart to spit at your hole before going in and licking your mixed juices back up. makes sure you’re nice and pliant for him before he slides a thick finger in, nice and slow.

your smaller hand fisted in his midnight hair, pulling every time he suckled on your clit. he groaned in response, silently urging you to tug harder. rougher. to pull his hair back only to shove his face back into your cunt.

if it were up to him, he'd suffocate between your soft thighs and die a happy man. his grunts vibrated against your skin, only making you hotter knowing how much he enjoys eating your pussy. the flat of his tongue licks up your twitching hole, gathering your juices before suckling on your puffy clit.

it all felt insignificant inside of this apartment. he was alive and well, much more than someone like him could ask for. because a man who kills for a living never quits counting his days. for so long he was accustomed to rising in the morning, resigned with the fact he may not live to see the sun dip below the horizon.

except that this morning his first thought had been wonder if she got some more razors for me. it was so horrifingly domestic that it gave him vertigo. you had, in fact, gotten him more razors. for toji, life was no longer about surviving—now it was about making it through his hardships and planning a future. and you were always at the center of his thoughts when he envisioned the future. it was your stubborn optimism that made him believe in it, after all.

toji feels your thighs quivering just before you begin grinding over his face frantically. his cock is leaking through his sweats, aching to be touched. but his needs come second to yours, and isn't that fucking wild? the thought still baffles him a year later—the knowledge that he wants you coming all over his tongue before he even takes his dick out.

and when you start mewling and gasping and losing your rhythm, he growls into that heaven and urges you to soak him in your pleasure. his fingers are fucking in and out of your tight hole while he makes out with your clit, knowing the exact moment when you come. your cunt clenches around his fingers before clear liquid comes out in spurts over him, drowning him in your juices.

"fuck, fuck fuck," he moans in between, drinking you up like a man starved. "keep going, baby. give it to me, give it all to me."

up in the clouds, you nod along absently, using his face to ride out your high. without thinking, you allow yourself to slide down the counter because you know that toji always catches you. he already expects your limp arms to wrap around his neck as he hoists you up to take you to bed.

kissing blindly against his throat, you begin gaining your senses. "still not gross, right?"

“pfft, look how fuckin’ hard I am for you.” toji scoffs, settling you down onto the mattress to fully remove your underwear. you whimper when your eyes meet the outline of his drooling cock. “I should kill the asshole that made you think that way, huh?”

you're still insecure about what you've done and it makes no sense to him. he finds it so attractive and exciting to see you unravel like that for him. still, because he's fucking soft, he always reassures you no matter how many times you need. his words are gruff and blunt but you appreciate it. your kindness and acceptance healed his remaining wounds, giving him a place to lay his head.

just as you’ve helped him work through his past, he’d do the same to you.

toji took you apart on your shared bed, your sweet moans and whines muffled by the storm that continued raging on into the early morning. sopping wet and aching to be filled, your cunt opened up for him perfectly. your gasps of toji, toji, toji, made him hazy enough to pray to gods he’s never believed in.

the cash that weighed down his jacket pocket meant nothing to him. it was merely a means to relieve his debt and nothing more. none of that would compare to the feel of your body against his in the dead of night—keeping you warm. the embrace of his future wife tethered toji to the earth. love was a peculiar thing.

[yournowheregirl]

part 1 [part 2 - coming soon]

Robin is panicking.

She’s standing in the middle of Lovelace Lingerie and she’s panicking. 

There are two reasons why she has always avoided this place like the plague. The first and obvious one being the whole ‘I'm gay and if I stare at this model wearing nothing but a lace bodysuit for a second too long, everyone is going to know exactly how gay I am’ bit. The second reason is just a plain habit. She bought her first bra at the department store, she knows what brand she likes, she knows her size and she knows that she doesn’t want all the frills and the bows and the lace. Just a plain black or white bra (maybe blue if she’s feeling fancy), nothing more, nothing less.

That is until Vickie said something when she stayed over the other day. 

“Why are all your bras so boring, Robin?”

Robin never thought her bras were boring. Sure, they were plain and nothing like the colorful lace bras Vickie likes to wear, but they were just there to serve one purpose - to hold her boobs in place while she goes about her day. Plus, before Vickie, she was the only one looking at her bra and she was doing just fine, thank you very much.

But Vickie’s words got stuck in her head, as they often do, which made Robin decide to take matters into her own hands and buy something that’ll make Vickie happy. A final hail Mary to make up for all the arguments they’ve been having these last few weeks.

Though she’s beginning to regret her decision as the sheer amount of choice start to overwhelm her. There’s just so much lace. So many straps. So many colorful bows and flower designs. So many things that say they’re bras, but look more like a flimsy piece of fabric tied together with two strings of floss. 

In her state of outright panic, Robin rushes through the store and grabs one of each pair of lingerie that she thinks Vickie will like. She doesn’t even bother to look at the sizing - honestly, what good is a size anyway when this bra is just a bunch of straps and two hearts cut out of red fabric - she just grabs them all and heads straight to the fitting rooms.

As it turns out, she should’ve been looking at the label because nothing seems to fit or suit her. The fabric of the lilac one is scratchy and the green one is just plain ugly. The black one makes her boobs look saggy, while the yellow one is too tight and make her boobs spill out. And don’t even get her started on the neon pink one - that one isn’t even a bra, it’s a torture device. 

Oh God, she’s never gonna make it out of this alive. She’s gonna die, right here in this pink and red monstrosity of a fitting room, choked to death by satin straps, and, and- are those walls closing in on her or is she just imagining things?

A knock on the door of the fitting room snaps Robin out of her downwards spiral but her mouth still runs faster than the brain when she calls out, “Who is it?”

“Uh, it’s... it’s Nancy? I work here?” A woman responds from the other side of the door. “You were taking a long time and I was wondering if you were okay, if you needed any help.”

Help. Yes, that’s exactly what she needs. Someone who knows their way around all these lace-y things, who knows what she needs to buy to keep Vickie happy and get out of here as fast as she can.

“Yes.” Robin croaks out. “Yes, please. I definitely needs some help.”

Robin immediately regrets her decision when an actual angel steps into the dressing room rather than an employee. And Robin’s not over-exaggerating, the warm light of the hallway does make it seem like there’s a halo around her brown curls, but it’s Nancy’s smile that makes Robin grow weak in the knees. It might be a customer service smile that she knows all too well, but Nancy makes it look genuinely sweet.

Focus, Robin. She tells herself. You’re here for your girlfriend don’t get distracted by Nancy’s blue eyes or rosy pink lips or-

“Wow.” Nancy breathes, looking around the mess that Robin made of the fitting room. 

“I’m sorry! I just got overwhelmed and I just grabbed everything and then I just panicked and then- then this happened.” Robin rambles apologetically. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve seen worse.” Nancy smiles politely. “How can I help?”

“Is this sexy?” Robin blurts out and Jesus Christ, can the ground open up and swallow her whole right now? Why would she say something like that? 

But Nancy doesn’t seem all that bothered with her question. She just blinks and cocks her head to the side, examining Robin with precision in her eyes. 

“It is from our Super Sexy line, so it’s literally designed to be sexy.” Nancy says. “But the most important question is, do you feel sexy in it?”

Robin turns around and takes a good look at herself  in the mirror. The color of the bra is nice and the flower and butterflies that are stitched into the fabric are pretty, but she still feels the need to wrap her arms around her body and shield it from prying eyes. It looks like something Vickie would like, it’s similar to what she owns and wears, but Robin feels that it’s just not her.

“Not really.” Robin says softly. “I’m not... all of this. I don’t wear all this complicated lace-y, girly junk and- oh shit, I’m totally insulting your job right in front of you.”

Nancy chuckles and shakes her head. “Oh believe me, you’re fine. We have a lot of things that are a bit... out there, so to say. But if you tell me what it is you’re looking for, I can see if we have something you feel more comfortable in?”

There’s something in Nancy’s eyes that Robin can’t put her finger on, but all she knows is that she’s suddenly telling Nancy everything. From her bra shopping at the department store to Vickie (Robin’s just in time to call Vickie her partner instead of girlfriend) telling her the bras she wears are boring and how she’s here in the hopes of finding something that will make her partner happy.

Nancy listens and nods along to the story, asking her questions about her preferences for colors and styles and even though Robin has know clue what she wants or what she’s talking about, Nancy doesn’t seem to mind. She just smiles and explains things into further detail with no further judgement and that somehow puts Robin’s mind at ease.

Maybe things will be alright after all

“I think I have just the thing for you.” Nancy says. “What’s your size?”

“Uh, I- I think it’s this one?” Robin grabs at the price tag on her back, but she has to twist her way like a contortionist to be able to see it. Nancy’s at her side at a split second, looking back and forth between the price tag and Robin’s cleavage.

“I don’t think this is the right fit. Do you mind if I measure you?” She asks, grabbing the yellow tape measurer from where it was hanging around her neck, a stark contrast to the black dress she’s wearing.

And yeah, Robin does mind, actually. If the satin straps aren’t the ones that are gonna kill her, a pretty girl touching her boobs just might do the trick. Still, Robin finds herself nodding and lifting her arms above her head so Nancy can easily measure her. 

The tape measure is surprisingly cold when it hits her skin and instead of focusing on Nancy and her lovely petite hands, Robin starts reciting conjugations of French verbs in her head. It does little to distract her, mostly because Nancy is standing so close that Robin can swell the sweet flowery perfume she has on. Nancy’s touches are light and of course, totally professional, but Robin still feels a goosebumps spreading across her skin when Nancy’s fingertips ghost over her skin.

Christ, get a grip Buckley. 

“Be right back.” Nancy smiles as soon as she’s done and disappears out of the fitting room, grabbing the bras that Robin threw on the floor earlier on her way out. 

Robin leans against the wall and sighs deeply once she knows Nancy’s out of earshot. She really hopes that Nancy wasn’t able to feel the way her heart sped up just now, but the flimsy fabric of the bra she’s wearing probably did shit at hiding that. Her hand reaches up to check and yup, Nancy was definitely able to feel that.

Oh God, why can’t she just be normal for once? She has a girlfriend for crying out loud! Vickie’s the whole damn reason she’s in this pink boudoir hell-hole in the first place! She just has to keep her eyes on the prize and not let Nancy derail her from the process.

Which is easier said than done when Nancy reappears with a new bra in hand. This one is black and looks plain at first, but Robin is quick to notice the mesh detailing and cut-outs, as well as the silver decorative thread in the straps. It’s simple, yet still more exciting than any of the bras Robin currently has in her closet.

“Just let me know when you tried it on, okay?” Nancy says and with another sweet smile, she disappears again.

Robin shimmies out of the blush pink monstrosity she still had on and puts the black bra on instead. She can feel the difference almost immediately - the fabric is soft and doesn’t itch, the mesh detailing isn’t overtly sexy but just suggestive enough and it must be made of magic because her boobs have never looked this good.

Giddy with excitement, she knocks on the door and lets Nancy back inside.

“And?”

“You’re a bra wizard!” Robin beams, gesturing to herself. “Seriously, look at this! I’ve never looked this good!”

“Just doing my job.” Nancy chuckles, a faint pink blush appearing on her cheeks as she looks Robin up and down. “Uh, how’s the fit? Nothing too tight or anything?”

“Fits like a glove.”

“Good.” Nancy says. Her eyes dart between Robin’s face and her cleavage again, her gaze lingering for a beat too long, before promptly looking away, almost as if she’d been burnt. “Uh, if you decide to buy it, come find me in the store and I’ll ring it up for you, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Robin replies softly.

Nancy nods and quickly walks out of the fitting room, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang. 

As Robin puts her clothes back on again, she can’t help but wonder what all of that was about. She knows she’s not the best with social cues but even she can recognize that there was something going on there.

Could it be-

No, no, Nancy is just a good saleswoman and Robin is just a customer in her eyes. Nothing more.

Still, Robin can’t help but feel guilty when she feels her heart skip a beat at the mere thought of not just being a customer to Nancy. With a loud sigh, she zips her jacket back up, grabs her bra and heads back into the store. 

She manages to find a pair of black panties that match the bra and armed with both of those in hand, she’s able to find Nancy on the other side of the store. Nancy immediately smiles when Robin waves at her and it does nothing to slow down Robin’s already rapid heartbeat. 

“Were you able to find everything?” 

“Yeah, got something to match as well.” Robin nods, awkwardly holding up the pair of satin black panties. 

“Oh, I know from experience that those are very comfortable. Good choice.” Nancy says, and yeah Robin’s not going to stop thinking about that one, isn’t she?

She follows Nancy to the register and her mind is still a bit hazy as she pays and watches Nancy neatly wrap her new items. She even spritzes some sugary sweet perfume onto the bag before she hands it to Robin with a bright smile. “Here you go.” 

“Thank you so much for your help, honestly.” Robin says. “I mean, you saw what a mess I made back there, I was so overwhelmed and you- well, you saved me, actually.”

“I was happy to help, really.” Nancy replies. She pauses for a moment, a frown appearing on her face as if she’s thinking about what to say next. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“I really hope you’re also buying and wearing this set for yourself, not just your partner. You should wear something that makes you feel good, not just because your partner wants it. ” Nancy says firmly. “And frankly, your partner is an idiot if they think you’re boring without a fancy-looking garment. Trust me, you don’t need all the extra frills and ruffles.”

That... That sounds suspiciously like a compliment, maybe even a flirty compliment and Robin’s brain does not know how to deal with that right now. Not after her meltdown from earlier, not after feeling Nancy’s kind eyes and cold hands on her, not while Nancy still has that twinkle in her eyes that makes Robin go just a little insane.

“Th- thank you.” Robin stammers. She grabs the bag a bit tighter, as if that’ll help her get back to reality. It’s still pretty hard though because Nancy looks even prettier in the daylight and- “I gotta gay. Go! I mean- I gotta go. Bye!”

“Have a nice day!” Nancy calls out after her, but Robin’s blood is pumping so loudly in her ears that it mostly gets drowned out. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is happening to her?

A firm hand on her shoulder shakes her from her thoughts and Robin turns around with a loud yelp.

“Jesus, it’s just me.” Steve says defensively. “Did you buy the whole store or something? You were in there for a while.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I’m good.” Robin nods a little too obviously, making Steve frown at her. Dammit, why can he always see right through her? But that doesn’t stop her from lying through her teeth. “I’m fine, Steve. Really. I promise.”

Steve hums, still unimpressed. “Alright. If you say so. Glad you got everything you need to woo her right off her feet.”

“Wha- what? Woo who?” Robin panics. How did Steve already know about that weird thing between her and Nancy? Did he have supersonic hearing or something? X-ray eyes? (which, gross, don’t use those eyes in a lingerie store, Steven)

“Ha, you sound like an owl.” Steve snorts. “But I’m talking wooing Vickie, idiot. That’s why you went in there, right?”

Right. Vickie.

brought to you by: me going bra shopping earlier today. also sorry to the vickie stans, i’m sure she’s lovely but she’s not gonna be lovely in this series. stay tuned for part 2! (kudos if you can spot an iconic line from glee that i just had to add in for funsies)

[kabie-whump]

♡ Day 15: “Who did this to you?” ♡

@febuwhump

Content: Hazbin whump fanfiction, Angel Dust whump, aftermath of violence, implied choking, overdose mention, very minor references to SA (it’s not much but it is angel dust so,,,)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The call comes late, late enough that Husk is getting ready to shut down the bar and go to bed. All the other hotel residents have been asleep for hours. Well, all of them except for Angel.

He still hasn’t come back. It’s not unusual for him to slink through the front doors in the small hours of the morning, makeup smeared and knees weak, and Husk has made a habit of being there behind the bar when he does.

But he’s still not back.

Husk’s phone rings. He considers not answering for a moment. At this hour the odds are it's just some drunk prank caller. But he checks the contact anyway, just in case.

It’s Angel.

When he answers he’s immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of background noise: loud voices and thumping music and squeaking leather.

“Kid? You there?”

There’s nothing for a moment, and Husk starts to think that maybe Angel had just butt-dialed him.

Then, “Husky…”

Angel doesn’t sound good. He never calls Husk that particular nickname unless he’s in a bad way (or flirting his ass off, but Husk considers those to be the same thing).

“I needya to come get me.”

Husk doesn’t waste any time. “Where are you?”

It’s a long walk but a short flight to a seedy club across town - closer to the studio than to the hotel. He lands outside and can already hear the music pouring from inside. Through the open door he can see a writhing mass of sweaty bodies, entirely too many for a place of this side. Husk takes a deep breath, steeling himself to shove his way inside.

He hates this sort of place, but he’ll do it for Angel. If the spider’s wasted enough to actually need help getting home… Can dead people overdose? Husk doesn’t want to find out.

“Husk.”

Angel is sitting against a nearby wall, knees tucked to his chest. Husk hadn’t even seen him at first; he’d managed to make himself so small and unassuming despite the way his white fur nearly glows against the dark backdrop. 

“Thank fuck,” Husk says as he goes over to Angel. “I really didn’t wanna go in there.”

And then Angel picks his head up to look at him and a stray beam of neon light illuminates the quickly forming bruise around his eye. 

Husk goes silent, rushing over to Angel and holding his face gently, not missing the flinch as he lifts his chin to get a better look at the damage. Blood streams from his nose down to his split lip and then down his chin where it’s started to dry on top of hand shaped bruises. He’s shaking and his eyes are wide and watery and more full of fear than Husk’s ever seen them.

His cheek is scraped and dirty, and an image comes to Husk’s mind without his permission: Angel, being shoved face first into a wall-

Husk isn’t in control of the wave of anger that crests over him. 

“Who did this to you?” he growls, shocking himself with the intensity in his voice. He hasn’t expressed anything but apathy and annoyance in so long, maybe not since his overlord days.

Angel blinks, surprise flashing across his face. “I-I don’t know. It was dark. I was wasted.”

Sinners have started to take notice of Angel’s presence, sending long looks their way as if trying to decide whether or not they’d get anything out of butting in. Husk subconsciously extends his wings, slielding Angel from view.

“Do you remember what they looked like? Are they still in there?”

Angel shakes his head. “I just wanna get outta here. Please, Husky.”

Husk breathes heavily, forcing himself to calm down. Angel doesn’t need a guard dog right now. He needs a bartender. 

“Alright.” He stands, offering his hand to Angel. “Let’s go home.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

( @quietly-by-myself )

[ultralightpoe]

Can you do something with eddie and someone from scream? That don't really make sense but like the reader is a survivor of ghostface and kind celebrity for it. Like Sydney through the movies? There would be a time change but like that? That would be so amazing. I would give my left nut for that tbh. I don't have a left nut. But i gove one if I could.

Final Girl - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: This was from march, and I am cleaning out my drafts for y'all

Warnings: Slasher, wounds, eddie being a confused lil bug.

Word Count: 3813

Description: Eddie meets a final girl, and apparently trauma bonds

Enjoy!

College life sucked. 

This wasn’t an actual shock to Eddie Munson, since he had never been great at school in the first place. Come on, he had been a super senior. Eddie Munson, who normally spent his life in fantasy could at least be realistic about ONE thing, he was not really meant for school. 

But…. not many people got a second chance at life and not many people were given a full ride scholarship from the government. 

Jason Carver, the ‘King of Hawkins High’, had taken the fall for Chrissy Cunningham. Eddie was released of any and all convictions, and the government had ‘thanked’ him. But he didn’t stop there, Eddie demanded something in return since he nearly died from the bats. So, Eddie Munson the super senior graduated with the help of his friends and Eddie Munson got a full ride scholarship from the government. 

Wayne was able to open up his own contracting business and Eddie was able to move to his new college knowing that he would not die in Hawkins. 

But that meant actually attending classes in college, something that Eddie found himself despising. More grumpy than not in the mornings he found himself ignoring the life around him, grumbling to himself as he trudged through the autumn leaves, his converse beginning to soak through from the rain that drenched the earth. 

There was one good thing about mornings though, and that was who he sat by in his intro to Shakespeare class….You. 

You were everything. Or at least Eddie thought so. 

You always had a book with you in class, mostly fantasy which drew him in. You always looked angelic, even on days where you definitely just woke up, and most importantly you never talked to him like he was stupid which most people at this school had done. But most importantly he liked that you seemed to be fine on your own, whereas most of the class was desperate for friends. You were just fine sitting in the back like you didn’t care.

But that led to his next problem, he desperately wanted to get to know you. 

He had tried to make conversation in the past, but the words never came out right and class was always packed with work so he never really got the chance to break the ice with you, but everyday he told himself that ‘Today is the day I’m going to talk to her’.

So he talked himself up on the way to class, fixing his rings as he tried not to focus on how cold his feet were before he was sitting beside you, the chain on his pants scraping in the chair as everyone bustled to their seats around him. 

He waits patiently for you to join the class, taking a moment to survey the room of all your other shared classmates. 

The front row held a cheerleader that reminded him of Chrissy, the sweet angelic smile and the same ponytail, the only problem was he had heard this version say a few icy things to her classmates and Eddie liked to think that Chrissy would have never. 

There was a kid named Paul that sat just a row below him, three seats to the right. Whereas Eddie was more of a leather jacket rock and roll type Paul was all about the punk, mohawk dyed neon colors and piercings decking out his face. He always gave Eddie a rock on sign whenever they made eye contact and Eddie liked the minor alliance. 

Before he could recognize anyone else you were pulling into your seat, rubbing your arm as if you were in pain as Eddie whips to smile at you. He gets nervous when you raise an eyebrow before giving him a tight lipped smile like he was crazy, then he realizes that his smile was a little too wide and he was the one sending crazy vibes so he simply clears his throat and taps his pencil on the tiny desk. 

The seats on this campus were all made of cheap plastic that had bus cushions on the butt of the seat, and little desks that you could flip to the right to escape. He liked to think of it like he was buckling himself into a rollercoaster each time. 

“Did you do the homework?” He blurts, trying to act cool as you stare at him. 

“We had homework?” You ask, eyes snapping to the daily checklist before turning back to him. “Are you sure?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you.” He blushes, pushing some hair back behind his ear. “Because I didn’t remember if we had an assignment or not.”

“Well normally you can see when we do because our professor writes it down.” You whisper, using your pencil to point at the board the assignments usually are. You were leaning in like you were telling him a secret and Eddie couldn’t help but bask in your scent for a moment. 

“Right….. I knew that.” He blushes, leaning in himself. “But if we are being totally honest here I might need some help with-”

“Alright settle down students! Let’s begin!” The professor calls and Eddie tries not to kick himself as he draws back to pay attention. So so close. 

- 

College life sucked. 

You had talked yourself into going to college after the horrific events you survived, seeing it as a chance to make yourself a new person. Leave the bloody history behind and live your life. 

It wasn’t everyday people got a second chance at life after all. 

It had taken you months to convince your parents to let you go, and it had been a rough time to say goodbye to your close knit group of friends or as your hometown liked to call them ‘The survivors’. Tear stained goodbyes and tons of promises to stay in touch before you left and at the time you had thought it was for the best, but now that you were here you realized what a mistake you had made. 

You had always thought that being away from the place where it happened might help you heal, but it only seemed to make it worse. 

The winter cold made your wounds ache, which made it hard to move. You couldn’t seem to make a friend to save your life and whenever you get close you can never get over the fact that they might stab you just as he had. The nightmares grew worse since you didn’t know this place well and you didn’t really have a security set up which meant your roommate hated you and often whispered about you with other girls living in your dorm hall. 

But the worst part was you saw them everywhere. 

You saw Maya sitting with the cheerleaders at lunch, giggling and being the life of the party, no longer dead. You saw Dylan drumming on a desk rather than paying attention, and when he turned back to smile at you he didn’t have his throat slit. 

You saw all your friends, or what could have been your friends, making themselves known in the world and each time you just felt like a huge imposter. You were wasting your life, it should have been you. 

But the worst was when you saw them. Standing outside your window in the masks, watching from the doorway of your classes or trailing behind you at night. 

You saw them everywhere, you saw flashes of that final fight every time you close your eyes. An ironic feat considering the news articles always read how lucky you were to ‘escape with your life’. 

But there was no escaping them. You were trapped in an endless cycle of fear. You could trust no one and hurt no one. 

That’s what made the chocolate eyed boy next to you so confusing. He had been seated next to you since the beginning of the year and you often caught him staring as if he was trying to think of things to say, and whereas you tensed around most people you never did with him. 

Maybe that’s because you could feel the nervousness coming off him every time. 

You were actually shocked that he spoke to you this morning, and you were even more shocked to find that his voice was a raw sort of calm that drew you in, which made you ashamed to admit you were a little upset that your professor interrupted because you were desperate to hear him talk forever. 

But that spell broke as you watched the board up front, taking the next 40 minutes to regain your composure and think of all the things that could go wrong. He could know who you are and be an obsessed freak, wouldn’t be the first time. He could be a copycat, he could stab you. He could be worse and actually succeed this time. 

What are the chances? You tried to remind yourself, taking a deep breath in only to stop when you see Stu standing in the doorway with his shirt covered in blood, smiling from ear to ear. You cough loudly, choking on your own hair as tears spring from your eyes, drawing attention from everyone in the class as the boy next to you reaches to hand you his water bottle. 

You take it, chugging quickly as the soft bell goes off, setting the bottle back down with a quick thanks and bolting from your seat. You hear him yell out a ‘wait’ before he rushes to stand, hitting the desk harshly since he hadn’t put it up and cursing at the pain. 

You use this as a chance to escape, dashing out the doors and barely turning back to see if Stu would follow. 

He’s not real. 

But he could be, and he could come back and he could-

“Wait wait wait, Jesus you are fast.” The stranger calls, panting as he catches up, a ringed hand flying to his right side as if he were in pain while staring at you. “You okay? Had a bit of a coughing attack in there.”

“Yeah, I just choked on air.” You half lied, not making eye contact. “Thanks for the bottle by the way…”

“Eddie. Well Edward but everyone calls me Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson.” He blushes, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding his side. 

“I’m-”

“Y/n. I know.” He smiles and you draw your hand back quickly, panic clawing at you as the fall wind hits your spine. Of course he knows, everyone knows. They are laughing at you. 

“You know?”

“Yeah. You introduced yourself on the first day of class? You told everyone your favorite book was Frankenstein?” He chuckles, pink singing at his ears and cheeks as you nod. Jesus you paranoid freak, he’s just trying to be nice. 

“Right. Yeah.” You smile, fixing your bag and moving to walk away before he walks with you slowly. 

“I was actually going to ask for your help.”

“With?”

“Homework. Or well, just classwork in general. You see I am more of a fantasy kinda guy. Elves and goblins and dwarves but this whole classic literature is kicking my ass. And you seem to devour it like no other so I was hoping maybe you could help out.”

“Like do your homework?”

“No!” He laughs, moving to scratch the back of his neck. You notice then that his hand is still on his side, and when he catches you looking he snaps it back down and fixes the leather jacket to cover himself even with the shirt. “Maybe just tutoring sessions? I’ll get dinner or something.” 

“Oh…” You think back to all the things you could say to get out of it, maybe that you just didn’t want to but then you see Maya walking by with a laugh and remember why you were here in the first place. 

A second chance at life, right?

“I… okay.” You agree, something in your stomach easing at his smile. 

- 

You both agree to meet up Sunday night at a pizza place right off campus, which gives Saturday free of any and all obligation. With no classes and waiting to do homework tomorrow you find yourself with a free day, so you use it to call home. 

Not your parents since you just know they will pick up on the slightest hint of sadness in your tone and demand you come home. Instead you call Randy, one of the other survivors from that night, and eagerly listen to all his news in bed. 

He catches you up on everything back home, from the gym being redecorated to the radio station he works at, but it was only a matter of time before you both had to talk about it.

“They knocked the house down, there were too many break-ins lately.” He explains and you hear a slight shuffle on the other side, knowing him that meant he was pacing. “Nothing gets people hornier than death.”

“Figures.” You try to laugh, your throat tight as tears spring to your eyes. 

“Actually Y/n, I am glad I got ahold of you. I wanted you to hear it from one of us rather than the world…” He starts and you take a deep breath as you try to control your panic. 

“What’s up?”

“Kelvin…. He uhm, he sold the story.” Your heart lurches in your chest at the words, the tears falling freely now.

“He what?”

“A movie company reached out, bought the rights to the story-”

“But we all agreed we wouldn’t!” You snap.

“He said they offered him a lot-”

“I won’t sign off, they can’t use-”

“They won’t use your name. Trust me I’ve already tried on my end.” Randy sighs. “It’s being released soon, called ‘Slashed’ and-”

The second he says the name you recognize it. You had seen a poster for it on a walk through campus but hadn’t actually stopped to look at it. Oh my god. 

“Randy, I have to go.” You rush out, a sob slipping past your lips as you hang up the phone right as your roommate comes back, glaring and rolling her eyes at the scene before her. You don’t hear what she mumbles under her breath, too lost in your own world.

- 

“Yes Dustin, I heard you.” Eddie sighs, searching his mess of a dorm room for his leather jacket as Dustin lectures him over the phone. 

“My flight lands in two weeks at 3, do you hear me Munson? You better have the couch clean enough for me to sleep on-”

“Dustin, dude, you need to have more trust. The room is all set up for your arrival.” Lie. “And I have so many fun things planned for you when you get out here.” Double lie. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” No. “And we’ll go see that movie you have been prattling on about-”

“Slashed is going to be so epic. Think Halloween but better Eddie-”

“Nothing is better than Halloweeen.” Eddie snaps, eyes finally landing on the leather jacket where he actually hung it up and snagging it, throwing it on and giving himself one last look in the mirror before he rushes a goodbye to his friend.”I’m running late and have togobye!” 

Before he knows it he is on his way to meet you, books in hand as he walks across the street and towards the pizza place that sits right off campus. When he gets there he finds you already seated in a booth, your own books already open in front of you and he tries his best to remain cool when he walks up. 

“Hey, how was your day off yesterday?” He asks, sliding into the seat across from you with an easy smile. 

“Busy.” You smile, and he tries not to notice the way it doesn’t meet your eyes. “You?”

“Promised myself I would clean my room…..didn’t.” He jokes, and that finally cracks an actual smile out of you which makes his heart skip a beat. “Now I am ready to read shakespine and shove my face with pizza.” 

“Speare.”

“Huh? Is that a type of pizza?”

“No. You said shakespine, it’s shakespeare.” You laugh and his eyes widen. 

“I think I know why I failed the last assignment then.” How is he supposed to fight off that feeling of pride when you let out a loud laugh?

- 

You had only expected to spend an hour with Eddie, but ended up spending four and closing the place down, to which he kindly offered to walk you back to your dorm.  You said yes, partly because it was way too dark outside and partly because you wanted to spend just a little longer with him. More than you wanted to admit. 

So you walked side by side, listening to him tell you about the funniest thing that had ever happened to his band ‘Corroded Coffin’ in detail before the conversation came to an easy lull. “Do you miss them?”

He looks over at you with a curious expression, waiting for you to explain. “Since you are here now, do you miss all your friends and family?”

“Well family wise it’s just my uncle Wayne and I, and I miss him greatly. I went from spending every day seeing him and never realized just how much I relied on him. He raised me and now I’m living in a world where I can’t dash to him with every bloody nose or black eye. And I just miss him a lot. My friends? I find that I miss some more than others. I miss my band, I grew up with them and they have known me since middle school, playing guitar doesn’t feel the same without them. But the Vecna crew? Jesus, I miss them all the time. Just thinking about them makes me feel like I’m lonely and ready to go back home.”

You knew that feeling all too well. 

You spot the entrance to your building, taking the lead in walking up the steps until you get to the door, turning to smile at him softly. He is looking at you with the softest look you had ever seen, and you begin to get butterflies in your stomach. 

“How about you?”

“My family and friends are….. Complicated.” You blush, the sound of Maya’s scream tearing through your mind. 

“How so?”

“I wanted to escape them, but they are the only ones that know me.” You whisper and he nods in understanding, something flashing in the brown of his eyes. Like a scarred memory. He knows he knows he knows. 

“I…. well I can’t say I know you as well as them, but I can say even knowing a quarter of you is a gift. And I would love to get to know more.” He says lowly, leaning in slightly and you find yourself leaning up yourself before the groan of the metal door behind you sounds out. 

“Look who's back.” Someone snickers and you take a quick step back from Eddie who shoots you a curious look, only for you to wish him goodnight and rush inside the building as the two girls leave. 

Your cheeks are pumping from your heartbeat, all the blood rushing to your face as you make a quick dash to your room. 

This cannot happen. You can’t be so stupid again. 

- 

The next morning Eddie doesn't grumble to himself, and he doesn’t complain about having to wake up so early. Today he walks with a pep in his step as he makes his way to class, eager to see you. 

As per usual he arrives first, sending a rock signal to Paul as he takes his seat, flipping the desk down and pulling out his writing tablet as his side begins stinging in pain. Taking a hand and rubbing at his side slowly to help ease the soreness of the scars when he feels you come near, eyes already planted on him rubbing his side in pain. 

“Morning.” He greets, bringing his hand back down and giving you a smile. 

“Good morning.” You smile back, taking a seat, your eyes casting to the door for a moment before your face blanches out quickly and you turn to him. “I had a lot of fun last night.”

“Me too, we should do it again sometime. Not to mention it will really help my grades.” He teases, smiling at you like a conspirator. 

“We could always study for the test tonight?” You offer and Eddie feels like his body is on fire. 

“I would love that.”

- 

Dinners and study dates become a nightly thing with Eddie, and you find that you love them. You also find that each night he walks you home you are absolutely desperate for him to kiss you, and you keep getting closer and closer. 

Like tonight, your shoulders had been bumping each other the entire time, laughing gently as you recalled the jokes you made at dinner, your pinky grazing his own as he stared at you before you made it to your building. 

“Once again this is goodnight.” You blush, reaching a hand out to fix his leather jacket. “Same thing tomorrow?”

“Sadly not, I have plans with my friend Dustin.” 

“Right, you guys were going to go watch a movie together on his first night back.” You smile, before your mind is brought back to the posters of the screaming face all over town. “Do you know what movie you’re seeing?”

“Sealand or something?” Eddie shrugs, eyes hooded a bit as he steps closer. “You okay?”

“Me? Of course.” You smile, pressing your nose against his as you lean up to trace your lips against his own. He hesitates for a moment before leaning and taking your lips on his own, his hands flying to your hips softly as he kisses you deeply. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you make the mistake of opening your eyes, only to find Billy standing behind Eddie’s shoulder with a smile. 

Drawing back with a sharp gasp that has Eddie staring wide eyed. “You okay?”

“Yes!” You rush out, kissing his cheek before moving to rush inside. 

“What?” Billy laughs from behind you, following you into the building. “You didn’t forget about me did you? You didn’t wanna tell your boyfriend about me?”

“Go away.” You whisper. 

“Didn’t want to admit how you killed me?”He laughs bitterly as you slam your bedroom door. Hesnotrealhesnotreal. He. Is. Not. Real.

- 

Dustin is a big ball of excitement as Eddie leads him through the movie theater, watching people come out with shocked and excited faces. 

“This movie has to be good.” Dustin rushes out. “Did you know it’s inspired by a true story?” 

“What are we watching again?”

“Slashed.” Dustin smiles. “And it’s going to be so awesome.”

(Part 2 soon)

[starlitheaven]

— 3:01am

summary. toji comes home late at night from a job. he reflects on his love for you.

tags. established relationship, modern au, hitman!toji, fluff, introspection, toji is in love and can’t believe it, oral sex (f.recieving), suggestive

note. based on my fic series gods & monsters, but can be read as a standalone. the reader and toji are unofficially engaged. inspired by rainy nights & gymnopedie.

wc. 2k+

toji regrets passing on the umbrellas strategically placed outside of the 24 hour Family Mart in the pouring rain. the fabric of his worn black jacket practically seeped into into his shoulders, weighing him down. there'd be a storm tonight, no doubt.

his phone died before getting on the last bullet train to tokyo so he hadn’t expected the sudden onslaught of rain. the weather greeted toji like a whirlwind when he stepped out the train—sharp and unforgiving against his sore muscles. 

still, he was too preoccupied with getting home, barely giving the umbrella stand a second glance as he made his way through kabukicho. the red light district was busy despite the weather and late hour; people crowding clubs and bars to escape the cold. even the hostess girls and scammers have retreated from the rain.

toji ignored it all, practically dragging himself through the narrow neon lit streets. his shoulders were heavy and sunken with the fatigue of a weeks long job, but toji was solely focused on getting back home.

to you.

he knows this neighborhood more than any other; knows all the restaurants that give shady men like him good discounts and the illegal gambling rooms hidden amongst ordinary establishments. he knows exactly where to pick up women that are eager to give him a good time with no consequences.

all of his past vices are right at his fingertips, so close that he can easily imagine blowing through his entire payment in a few hours. but none of this calls to him anymore, though. there's nothing in these fleeting excitements that draw him in. he's a man with a future now.

the apartment is pitch black when he enters, save for the glow of the small nightlight plugged into the genkan, only ever on when you’re expecting him in the early hours of the night. the soft orange glow greets toji home like the kiss of your loving sunlight—a sweet reminder of your consideration. it softens some of the violence that remains inside of him after a contract that ends, with bloody hands being scrubbed clean inside a motel bathroom.

because a bastard like him somehow found you in the turbulent shitstorm that was his life. toji fushiguro found another kind soul who loved him and kept him close to their heart. you were the angel who healed his wounds with your bright laugh and reminded him that good things were still possible despite all that’s happened. to him, you represented a future that didn’t end in sorrow and bloodshed and loneliness.

the downpour was muted through the building, thumping heavy against the rooftop. the frigid breeze no longer reached him. it was comfortably warm inside.

removing his jacket and shoes, he made his way through your shared shitty 1K—a one room studio apartment with a kitchenette and not much else. one could say this place was his home, but toji’s home was anywhere that you or megumi resided in. in the kitchenette was the sink and a small counter space with a microwave on top. beside it was the fridge and stuck to it with a miffy magnet was a post-it that read: 

left some shogayaki for you, it’s in the blue container! the sencha is in the cabinet. drink some to warm you up! wake me when you’re back ♡

cute. actually, the soft kitten snores that reached his ears were even more adorable.

the rain pattered against the balcony door as he stopped by the bed tucked into a corner. this place was too cramped for a man like him, let alone a couple and occasionally a child. toji couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of here, to give you and megumi a home that you deserved. to be done with this shady lifestyle.

you stirred as the bed dipped with his weight. “t’ji?”

“hey babe,” he murmured, softer than he intended. softer than he ever felt capable of. the storm outside continued on, now raging on the streets of tokyo. “just got back.”

i’m home. fuck, when did the tides inside of him calm? 

toji's lips curl up as your small hands blindly felt up his arms and chest with a dubious hum. because you don’t fully know just how cutthroat he is when he’s not being your boyfriend. your soon to be husband. “mm. you’re ok? not hurt?”

half asleep and you’re still fussing over him. the devotion and sweetness of your love made his teeth ache sometimes. it took all of his sins and washed them away like the storm just outside the window. now, toji was a softie who turned down risky jobs despite the big paychecks that they promised. 

all because he had a girl and a son to come home to.

“who do ya think i am?” toji scoffs, pinching your nose between two thick fingers. he tugged gently, grinning at your lazy swats in retaliation. you reminded him of the kittens at the cat cafe that you had gone to when you first began dating. “hm? have some faith in me. i always get the job done just fine, no big deal.”

smacking his hand away with a grunt, your palm curled over his cold nape to pull him down for a kiss. in the dark of the room with the moonlight blanketed by dark clouds, his lips blindly met the corner of your mouth instead. huffing a soft laugh, you turned slightly to give him a proper kiss.

it’s something you always insist on, to give him a welcoming kiss home no matter what hour he returns. he thought it fuzzy and clingy at first, a testament to your almost decade age difference, but the gesture has grown on him.

toji hums low in the back of his throat, pressing you back against the bed with the weight of his much larger body. his tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the minty mouthwash from the hundred yen store down the street. your body unconsciously adjusts for him, allowing him to pin you down fully the way he's done so many times. his hand settles over the curve of your waist, and the little whimper you let out has him reaching down to unbutton his pants.

before he can do so, you let out a shaky gasp and pushed him away. albeit reluctantly. “wait! go shower first, you stink!”

toji scowled. “tch. no I fuckin’ don’t, you little brat. the motel had a bathroom.”

“yeah, and the stuff there is crap ‘cause I can tell you smoked. you didn’t take the travel kit i made for you! i spent all day in shibuya looking something you wouldn’t hate only for—”

flipping the blanket over your face, toji got up with a groan. he ignored your muffled curses. “fine! i’ll go take one, shit. what a fuckin’ moodkiller.”

dodging the pillow you threw towards his back, he allowed himself to smile at your continued cursing. the kansai accent and slang always slips out when you’re upset and it’s the cutest fucking thing. he doubts you’re even aware of it so it’s just for him to enjoy.

a quick hot shower later, toji wiped at the foggy mirror. looking at his reflection, he allowed himself to settle into the tranquilty of the apartment. the edge of a job released with the sigh he let out. he came to terms with the fact that the blood would never wipe clean from his hands. no matter what, toji was tainted with the death of more than he could count. 

he still didn’t care that the lives that he took were worth nothing more than horse races, cigarettes, tokens, cigars, and petty material possessions. it was a life that he felt shackled to—choked down into. 

but outside the small bathroom door was his salvation. 

emerging from the bathroom in only sweatpants, toji found you standing in the kitchen. your back was faced towards him, taking something out of the microwave to place on your miniscule countertop. the small space smelled of pork and ginger; you had gotten up to heat up his dinner. it wasn’t until he met you that he realized how small gestures could contain so much love. 

toji walked towards you, taking a quick glance at the clock against the wall that read 3:01am. is this considered an early breakfast, then?

unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently pulling you against his broad chest. you didn’t mind this, instead humming contently and settling back against him while you stirred his food. it was all so comfortable and familiar; it’s something he’s done hundreds of times now. toji placed a kiss at your temple, soothed by the scent of your coconut shampoo and jasmine body wash. generic products that countless women in tokyo could be found wearing, yet they were something novel and fresh on you. it was something he couldn’t get enough of.

in fact, he could never get enough of you.

“did ya miss me?” toji crooned into the shell of your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth to suckle on. your responding whimper had his gut tightening in arousal. “'cause i missed you. you’ve got no idea how badly, babe. these long jobs almost aren't worth the fuckin’ money anymore.”

a sigh escaped your lips as you gave him more access to kiss down your jaw and neck, leaving little nips. "mmm, i missed you every single day. i even started missing seeing your dirty clothes all over the place."

"that so?" toji hums in amusement, giving your hips a slow squeeze. the stirring in his gut only grows at your proximity. the softness of your skin, the delicious sounds you make, how small you feel beside him.

perfect girl. his perfect girl.

"mhm, it was lonely without you," a shiver crawls up your spine at toji's big hands caressing you. you mutually find each other irresistable, often unable to stop once you've begun. "but you should eat first...we have all day tomorrow to..."

you trail off when toji licks up your neck, feeling a familiar bulge at your backside.

“I had to listen to you play with that sweet cunt through the shitty burner phone,” he grunts into your ear. back in that motel he had stroked his cock alongside your moans, filling his ears with the sounds of your wet pussy. you were so needy and slutty that night, whining filth into the phone while he was cities away. “c‘mon, baby. all you’ve gotta do is sit on my tongue. lemme taste how much you missed me.”

he's playing with your tits now, kneading the soft flesh in his big rough hands. the way you take your lower lip into your mouth tells him all he needs to know. toji sinks to his knees, pushing your hips to rest against the counter as he pays his respects to your sweet cunt. his hands slide the shirt—his shirt—up to expose more of your soft skin to him. plush thighs begging to be bitten into, cute comfortable underwear, smooth belly and a peek of your bare tits.

the rain outside faded into the background, becoming nothing more than a backdrop. toji absently thought of the people he had seen out in the streets; who were nothing but props in this moment. this moment was suspended in time between your bated breaths. the world blurred around him, leaving only you in his line of sight. 

greed has been a companion throughout his life, one that he welcomed with open arms. he's been selfish and quick to give into indulgence, but none hold a candle to you. none had his blood buzzing in his veins the way your body did. that soft and gorgeous body of yours, that cunt that squeezed him so well...

toji smirked, taking notice of the small wet spot over your soft cotton underwear. it made his mouth water, the taste of your cunt ever present in his mind. he rubbed a thumb over your mound, light enough to tease. your breath hitched slightly, sensitive for him as always. “tsk, tsk. don’t know why you try and pretend like you’re not aching for me. look how wet this cunt is, baby.”

he continued on, pressing into your clit until you begin to squirm and beg under your breath. but he wants to get back at you a little for messing with him with that phone call, so he focuses on your clothed pussy. pressing his nose over your mound, toji inhales deeply with a broken groan. when you shyly try to close your thighs, his hands grip around the soft flesh to keep them apart, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to keep you comfortable.

"smell so fucking good," he whispers, licking up the damp cloth to where your pubic hair would begin. the thin fabric is growing more wet against his mouth, and soft curses are spilling from your lips. "gonna devour you."

when your body begins to sink down against him, that's when toji knows to hook a finger over the side of your underwear and show him what he's been thinking of day and night. your pussy is gleaming wet for him, lips puffy and begging to be kissed.

eating your pussy is the final welcome home after a long job—he spreads your lips apart to spit at your hole before going in and licking your mixed juices back up. makes sure you’re nice and pliant for him before he slides a thick finger in, nice and slow.

your smaller hand fisted in his midnight hair, pulling every time he suckled on your clit. he groaned in response, silently urging you to tug harder. rougher. to pull his hair back only to shove his face back into your cunt.

if it were up to him, he'd suffocate between your soft thighs and die a happy man. his grunts vibrated against your skin, only making you hotter knowing how much he enjoys eating your pussy. the flat of his tongue licks up your twitching hole, gathering your juices before suckling on your puffy clit.

it all felt insignificant inside of this apartment. he was alive and well, much more than someone like him could ask for. because a man who kills for a living never quits counting his days. for so long he was accustomed to rising in the morning, resigned with the fact he may not live to see the sun dip below the horizon.

except that this morning his first thought had been wonder if she got some more razors for me. it was so horrifingly domestic that it gave him vertigo. you had, in fact, gotten him more razors. for toji, life was no longer about surviving—now it was about making it through his hardships and planning a future. and you were always at the center of his thoughts when he envisioned the future. it was your stubborn optimism that made him believe in it, after all.

toji feels your thighs quivering just before you begin grinding over his face frantically. his cock is leaking through his sweats, aching to be touched. but his needs come second to yours, and isn't that fucking wild? the thought still baffles him a year later—the knowledge that he wants you coming all over his tongue before he even takes his dick out.

and when you start mewling and gasping and losing your rhythm, he growls into that heaven and urges you to soak him in your pleasure. his fingers are fucking in and out of your tight hole while he makes out with your clit, knowing the exact moment when you come. your cunt clenches around his fingers before clear liquid comes out in spurts over him, drowning him in your juices.

"fuck, fuck fuck," he moans in between, drinking you up like a man starved. "keep going, baby. give it to me, give it all to me."

up in the clouds, you nod along absently, using his face to ride out your high. without thinking, you allow yourself to slide down the counter because you know that toji always catches you. he already expects your limp arms to wrap around his neck as he hoists you up to take you to bed.

kissing blindly against his throat, you begin gaining your senses. "still not gross, right?"

“pfft, look how fuckin’ hard I am for you.” toji scoffs, settling you down onto the mattress to fully remove your underwear. you whimper when your eyes meet the outline of his drooling cock. “I should kill the asshole that made you think that way, huh?”

you're still insecure about what you've done and it makes no sense to him. he finds it so attractive and exciting to see you unravel like that for him. still, because he's fucking soft, he always reassures you no matter how many times you need. his words are gruff and blunt but you appreciate it. your kindness and acceptance healed his remaining wounds, giving him a place to lay his head.

just as you’ve helped him work through his past, he’d do the same to you.

toji took you apart on your shared bed, your sweet moans and whines muffled by the storm that continued raging on into the early morning. sopping wet and aching to be filled, your cunt opened up for him perfectly. your gasps of toji, toji, toji, made him hazy enough to pray to gods he’s never believed in.

the cash that weighed down his jacket pocket meant nothing to him. it was merely a means to relieve his debt and nothing more. none of that would compare to the feel of your body against his in the dead of night—keeping you warm. the embrace of his future wife tethered toji to the earth. love was a peculiar thing.

[angsthology]

“so much for identity keeping” — or an alt title: roo’s nighttime job

the grid caught roo in a different light, holding a different kind of instrument

a/n the title’s a bit ambiguous but bare with it 😭😭 (bare?? bear?? which one is it i genuinely dk)

thinking back, this is pretty bad so im sorry for that. still trying to get my mojo back.

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS THE WORLD

“you think she actually hates us?”

the group of men were currently out and about exploring the night life. though, this time they decided to switch things up a little. instead of their usual glamorous clubs, they decided to go somewhere that offered live music. seb described it as ‘a change of pace’ and in return, lando said that his ‘age is getting to him’ (behind his back, that is).

the entire grid was there as they were all invited — except one.

“what? c’mon, why not?” lando made an expression of offense.

“not tonight. any other night is fine, but i already have plans. sorry, lan.” she shrugged before walking away towards where her car was parked.

that didn’t stop him from following her, though. the curly-haired brit fell in step right behind the shorter girl to—well, truthfully, beg.

“it’ll be fun!” he reasoned.

shaking her head, she stopped mid-step and faced the brunette, making him stop abruptly too.

“i’m sure it will. but i’ve had this plan since way before you probably planned yours.”

he pouted. she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his attempt.

“next time, lan. i promise.”

remembering the conversation had lando still coated with bitterness. “not surprised if she does.”

max couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s bitterness. he tapped his back (to which surprised lando), “no she don’t. i’m sure she has her reasons.”

as if on cue, suddenly they hear a familiar voice booming through the speakers.

the men’s heads never turned so quick before.

“oh mY GO—”

max was quick to snap his hand over lando’s mouth. and, on cue, not a moment too soon—

“EW!”

the dutch man immediately removed his hand off of lando’s mouth and wiped it on the british driver’s clothes, all the while holding an (overdramatic) expression of disgust.

he glared at the man and continued to talk (grumble), “if she didn’t tell you — or any of us, for that matter. she probably has her reasons.”

lando blinked. “okay? so?”

“so…” daniel walked up behind his teammate and rested his hands on both sides of his shoulders, “we should sit back, quietly, and watch.” he paused, lando still thinking with furrowed brows, “she doesn’t have to know.”

lando’s face brighten up as he finally catched up. “ah, i see.”

“but don’t you guys think—”

immediately, the older german man stopped his miniature, “don’t even try, mick. you know it won’t work.”

mick was about to say something else when he was suddenly cut off by lando shushing everyone. eventually he gave up trying to reason with anyone and sat down (in the dark, might i add) with everyone else as the stage lightings start to turn on.

there on the stage stood roo on the (audience’s) right holding a sticker-drowned plain white bass guitar. on center-stage stood roo’s friend they knew as daisy-mae holding her own red and white guitar along with an unfamiliar face sitting behind the drums.

everyone was surprised to see the stage lights turn on to a bright neon pink-haired roo rather than her usual hair color.

she wore a sleeveless white top with a big star design in the middle of her chest and a leather skirt paired with a pair of black thigh-high boots.

“interesting…” muttered lando with his chin resting on his interlaced hands. all the while the younger german driver across him tilted his head in an unreadable expression.

next thing they knew a tune starts to play and to their surprise, the once alfa romeo driver turned band geek leaned in the microphone, “angel… with a gun in your hand…”

their jaws dropped at the sound of her voice.

“she can sing…?”

“…she has a life outside of driving?!”

everyone’s heads immediately to the young aston martin driver, all with the same judging expression.

at that, the canadian immediately jumped ahead to defend himself. “what? she’s new! that’s how i thought of all of you when we all first met!” he said defensively with his hands (and voice) going up.

but, in truth was, no one really knew who she was. the closest thing they’ve figured out about her personal life was daisy-mae. and she was way more quiet about it than roo.

compared to the rest of the grid, she was probably the most private person yet. they seem to know so much about her yet also none at all. whether it was because she was new and still hadn’t warmed up to them like that yet or that’s just the way she is and they just haven’t gotten used to it yet. they—the media—would often compare her to kimi but that would just be wrong considering they’re nothing alike besides being tight-lipped.

watching her in another element was a new and interesting experience for them. very interesting. some might even be confident enough to bet it against her racing career.

with furrowed brows, carlos whispers to his teammate, “you think she would ever leave racing for this?”

“we’re not that lucky, mate.” charles mumbled, then shrugging, “plus you’d actually think she would leave mick?”

their moment of entertainment and amazement was cut short when she followed along the lyrics that escaped her lips.

“go on, replace me… when you’re cravin’ something sweeter than the words i left in your mouth… go on and spit me out.”

she. was. shameless.

it was almost as if the girl on that stage was not the same girl they drove on the track with, the same girl they do press conferences with, the same girl that was their co-worker and on-track rival.

that theory only furthermored when she switched instruments with daisy-mae and took over the entire stage with her presence, rocking her own solo riff.

they were seriously doubting this was the same girl as the kangaroo’s grid.

when the last notes were strung and the music died down, the girl walked over to the mic stand that once was occupied by her friend.

she started, “hi, everyone.” she was slightly out of breath — not surprise there — “we are: talking excessively. i’m your bassist slash occasional guitarist: autumn rolfe,”

the men collectively furrowed their brows in confusion, sharing glances with each other with words unspoken.

sure they doubted the rockstar was their co-worker and friend but they knew for sure it was roo. and that was not her name.

“joined by my beloveds—camellia gray,”— she pointed at daisy-mae —“on the guitar holding my bass, and finally our drummer rocky dilltogas.” she pointed at the unfamiliar new character — probably not his real name either after seeing a certain pattern.

strumming a few strings, the girl then continue speaking, “for this next song… i’ve begged and begged dai– cami for so long for us to perform this song. lucky yous, this was the night she finally agreed.” she smiles as she exchange instruments with daisy-mae—or ‘camellia gray’ as she said—once more.

then, an all-familiar tune starts playing. one that completely confirmed her identity.

“stacy, can i come over after school?”

a couple of more songs later (all the while the group of men continue to question their judgement) and the band bid their farewell after finishing their last song.

it was the three past rookies to show themselves — under the light that the girl would definitely notice them.

they saw as the blood draining from her face when she noticed their giggling faces. oh how she hated those three.

roo immediately said an awkward ‘thank you’ hurriedly and basically sprinted off to the backstage, leaving her two bandmates in confusion.

that is, until her best friend spotted the three giggling men. they waved at her happily, feigning innocence as her face dropped knowing exactly that they were the reason.

behind the stage, roo was still in shock, standing like she’s seen a ghost until her bandmates walked over to her.

daisy-mae was the first to walk over to her, a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “it’s fine.”

“i’m going to kill them.” she replied, her expression unmoved.

“i mean that’s one way to do it—”

“what happened?” asked the drummer.

before any of them could explain to him, they were interrupted by said explanation as they all approached them.

her face was almost in a permanent expression, hardening when she saw the three demons that held complete malice in their eyes when instead she was surprised with showers of compliments by her older co-workers.

but still, that didn’t stop the rest from existing and taking the big chance of absolutely mess with her. they would never give up the opportunity to pull a reaction from roo.

“so, autumn rolfe, was it?” george smiled happily with his arms crossed.

“shut up.”

“i think i’m co-workers with your sister: spring.” snickered alex.

“funny. anythin’ else?” she deadpanned.

“yeah—”

but before the mclaren driver could say anything, roo had already had her fingers clasped on his ear—cutting off his shits and giggles.

“what the hell! i haven’t said anything, why didn’t you do it when these guys were talkin’!” he complained.

“you’re the nearest one.”

“you and i are exactly the same distance as you and alex!”

“yeah, but he’s a whole electric pole, you’re a gremlin.”

“just say you hate me the most.”

“i hate you the most.”

he rolls his eyes, grumbling, “you’re not my favorite either.”

“lying? really? you know that’s my thing, right?”

their bantering was interrupted when roo heard her name being called. she turned around to see her bandmates standing behind her with another new presence with them.

her eyes widen and quickly let go of lando’s ear, running off to her friends.

“everyone! since i no longer have any form of privacy, i’d like to introduce you to my friends.” the drivers all crowded the group of four. “you guys know daisy-mae,” said girl waved and a string of familiar ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s greeted her, “this here is atticus,” the boy they recognized as the drummer smiled politely at them. roo then looked at the new girl standing beside daisy-mae, “and uh, this is nika, don’t know when or how she got here.”

“but she’s happy i’m here.” said girl stated happily with a giddy smile.

“sure.”

at her monotonous voice, nika’s smile dropped, rolling her eyes.

everyone then slowly dropped the topic and went on their own as another band take over the stage with their more upbeat dance worthy music.

she was left was now only left with alex, george, and lando. she sighed.

“anything else?”

george shrugged, “but seriously, i think it was pretty cool.”

the girl couldn’t help but feel the heat rushing to her face, she never expected a compliment coming out of his mouth.

“oh. uh, thanks?”

“i mean, by the looks of you i had a feeling you have some sort of hannah montana-esque secret somewhere.” alex mentioned, only making roo’s eyes furrow. “that was a compliment.” he clarified after seeing the look on her face.

then, lando leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, “don’t tell her this but i always thought she was really cool, this was just an upgrade.”

confused, again, roo turned to a goofy-grinning lando with her right brow raised. alex caught her attention when started again, “he’s had a few drinks.”

“well. we’ll see you on the dance floor, i’m assuming?” george asked, sipping from the drink in his hand.

she nodded as the three went on, lando lingered behind with her.

“guess you did ended up goin’ out with us after all!” he said before leaving her with a smile mumbling a ‘yeah’.

roo was about to follow behind him when a certain spanish driver approached her, putting his arm around her frame. he took a sip from his drink before speaking as they walked together towards the bar.

“ever think of performing at birthday parties?”

“whose?”

“mine.”

“your birthday’s passed, nando.”

“incase you didn’t know, they’re a yearly thing.”

she chuckled, “sure thing, pop.”

“oh, and nice hair, by the way.”

“thanks.”

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know what ya think 🥰 & tell me if u want to be added

[hopepetal]

@gremnda since you wanted to see the larger wip from my boatem apocalypse fic!!

--

The light in the sky pulses green, neon against the black night. Radiance oozes from it, taints the air, makes the sky look sickly. Even the stars shy away from it, repulsed by the unnatural force that occupies their home.

Pearl can't bring herself to look away, mesmerized by its awfulness. She finds herself falling forward and stumbling into a step, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm in her chest. Every instinct in her body tells her to run, to hide, to look away, but Pearl discovers with rapidly fading horror that she doesn't want to.

The light is actually quite beautiful, she has to admit. Stepping through the gathered crowd, Pearl hears herself murmuring apologies as she pushes forward. She can't be bothered to check if others are doing the same thing– looking at the crowd would mean taking her eyes off of the Light.

There's someone beside her, someone important. He doesn't look at the Light, unlike her. A shame, really. The Light is so beautiful. She can't imagine not wanting to look at it, not wanting to stare into the everlasting glow.

She doesn't hear anything anymore, because everything is blocked out by the Light's faint humming. It reminds her of the faint whir of machinery, but it is somehow more. It is the sound of many voices humming at once, and yet impossibly inhuman. She takes another step forward.

He is beside her again, shouting what might've been her name. She hums in displeasure, joining the Light's song, still keeping her eyes glued to the angelic radiance. Such a shame indeed, that he doesn't wish to bathe in the Light's glory. The girl she once was would be sad when they'd have to get rid of him.

Wait.

Pearl blinks, then lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding. The tension flees from her body as she gasps in air, her senses crashing back into her as she is finally able to tear her gaze from the light.

Grian is standing in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders. His dark eyes look up into hers, concern and fear brewing a storm of emotions on his face. “Pearl?” he asks, then cracks a smile when her eyes meet his. “Hey, there.”

Pearl blinks again and smiles back. “Hey, mate. Guess I got a little carried away, huh?”

Grian snorts, rolling his eyes. “A little? Goodness, Pearl. Next time I'm just going to punch you.”

Pearl gasps in mock horror, clutching her hands to her chest. “You would never.”

Their conversation is interrupted by screams from the crowd around them, and they know enough by now to grab each other's hand and start running.

The light explodes, and the two throw themselves around the corner, pressing back against the sturdily built wall that only shakes slightly from the force. As soon as the wave of light passes them, they're immediately running again, though not from the light.

This time, they run from the monsters the light created. —— “That's on you, for going into such a heavily populated area,” Impulse scolds Pearl and Grian, with no real bite behind his words. He's just relieved they made it back– everyone is. “I told you both. I really did try to warn you!”

Grian finishes wrapping his wound, looking up with a smile. “We're adults, Impulse. We can make our own decisions.”

Impulse laughs, shaking his head. “I'm not saying you can't, man! I'm just saying they're stupid decisions!”

“Says the man who wants to go to the city,” Pearl shoots back in a teasing tone, pulling her hair out of its braid.

Impulse splutters, trying to find words. “That's hardly the same thing! We need supplies! Mumbo needs stuff to fix communications in the bunker!”

The mustachioed man looks up from where he's playing cards with Scar in the corner, eyes wide. “Oh, don't blame this on me, goodness gracious!”

Scar laughs, setting his cards down and leaning back. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure Impulse is just cooped up in here. He needs to spread his pretty little wings and fly!” He makes a grand sweeping gesture with his hands, smiling widely.

Impulse buries his head in his hands. “You're all awful. Out of everyone, I just had to spend the apocalypse with you four.”

Pearl leans on Impulse's shoulder, grinning. “Love you too, Impulse.”

[lixzey]

Can't Help Falling in Love.

Info: This is my first timothée x oc fic.

Angelisse Emmanuelle Evans is a girl who seems to have everything—a booming career with a promotion on the way, a family that adores her, and a long-time boyfriend who just proposed marriage. Everything was perfect until she discovered that she's actually already married—with a legitimate marriage certificate. The husband turns out to be Timothée Chalamet, Hollywood's Golden Boy hearthrob. Angelisse seeks Timothée out to convince him to help her get an annulment.

Under the neon lights,

I think we might get married in Vegas.

February 13th, 2022

In the vibrant and pulsating lights of the night, Angelisse Evans stood at their table while her friends danced the night away. Tonight was her best friend's bachelorette party.

“Come on, Angel, loosen up!” The bride-to-be, Kate, pushed a shot of vodka in front of her.

Angelisse rolled her eyes at her friend. She had never been the life of the party, to say the least. She was the type to hang back and watch—maybe dance a bit, but never really let loose.

“And get a terrible hangover the next day? No thanks.” she said, pushing the shot glass away.

Kate wasn't taking no for an answer. She grabbed Angelisse's hand, led her to the dance floor, and urged her to dance. Angelisse hesitated, but then something took over, and she started to move to the beat. She was surprised to find herself enjoying it.

The beat of the music was like electricity, vibrating through her body. The air was charged with the energy of the crowd of people dancing and mingling. The music was like a drug, and she couldn't get enough of it. Angelisse lost herself in the moment, feeling the energy flow through her body as she danced the night away.

As the night wore on, Angelisse found herself increasingly in the element. She and her friends had spent hours dancing and drinking. Angelisse let out a laugh and threw her head back, her long, dark hair cascading down her back. She knew she looked good, and she made sure to show it off, her hands tracing down her body and her hips swaying to the beat.

"You're glowing, Angel,” Kate said, sidling up next to her best friend. “Having a good time?” She cocked an eyebrow, but there was a playful spark in her eyes.

Angelisse laughed, feeling a rush of warmth inside. “I am,” she replied, raising her glass to her lips. “This night is just too good to miss.” She winked at Kate, her head feeling a little fuzzy from the alcohol. For a moment, it was as if she felt the whole world was hers.

“You know, you're a lot of fun when you loosen up,” Kate teased, nudging her playfully. “Maybe you just need someone to bring out the best in you.”

Angelisse stumbled into the bathroom, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. She went to a stall, trying to regain her balance as she went. She clumsily knocked into a man who was peeing in a urinal, and she stumbled, her face heating up and her eyes darting between the man and the stalls.

The man, with messy curly hair and green eyes, turned to Angelisse as she stumbled past him. He eyed her up and down, taking in her drunken state and disheveled appearance. “This is for men only,” he slurred out, gesturing to the urinal he was standing next to. “You're not supposed to be here.”

Angelisse looked at him, her eyes widening as they settled on his unbuttoned pants. She was drunk, but she couldn't help but take note of his boldness.

“The line in the female bathrooms—it's too long,” she slurred. “I really need to pee.”

The brunette stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. “Thank God.” she moaned out, the sounds of the toilet flushing in the background.

“Ouch, fuck, my feet,” she complained as soon as she stumbled out, stomping her heels on the tiled floor. “These heels are killing me,” she muttered as she tried to take off her heels.

“Miss, relax, okay? Let me do it.” The man with messy curls offered to help her take off her heels. “Miss, steady, steady, alright?” He knelt down and slowly removed her shoes. Angelisse moaned at the feeling, “Fuck, right there.” Angelisse moaned loudly, “Oh god, yes!”

After several minutes of painful struggling, Angelisse's heels were finally off and her feet were free. She let out a loud groan of relief.

“Oh, that's better,” she said, wiggling her toes and flexing her ankles. She looked down at the man who had helped her, and her breath caught in her throat. He was stunning, with soft brown messy curls, a jawline sharp enough to cut a finger, and piercing green eyes. And he had helped her with her heels! Angelisse felt her cheeks burn, her eyes darting down towards her feet, then back up to his face. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” the man smirked, watching her blush.

Angelisse felt a rush of adrenaline as she realized that this man was flirting with her.

“I'm glad that I could help.” he continued, his eyes glimmering in the low light.

Angelisse felt herself melt in his gaze. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, he spoke.

“What's your name, miss?”

Angelisse felt the world stop. This man, this beautiful, perfect man, was asking her name! She felt like she was in a dream, and she didn't want to wake up.

“I'm Angelisse,” she said, her eyes shining and her heart fluttering. “And you are?”

“I'm Timothée.” He flashed a smile at her.

“Timothée,” Angelisse repeated, letting his name roll off her tongue. “It's nice to meet you.”

She felt her cheeks heat up, the alcohol making her more confident and brazen than usual. She twirled a strand of her long brown hair between her fingers, her hazel eyes glimmering as she looked up at him.

“So, Timothée,” she purred, a playful smile on her face. “What brings you here tonight?”

Timothée could feel his heart beating faster in his chest as Angelisse looked at him with those sultry, hazel eyes. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to meet such a beautiful woman like her, and he was determined to make the most of it.

“I'm here for the same reason as everyone else,” Timothée replied smoothly, his eyes crinkling in a charming smile. “To have a good time.” He couldn't help but add, “And maybe to meet someone special, like you?”

Angelisse giggled. “It's my best friend's bachelorette party tonight.”

“A bachelorette party, huh?” Timothée replied, his gaze traveling down Angelisse's body, taking every inch of her. “Sounds like a lot of fun.” He smirked, his voice husky. “I take it you're one of the bridesmaids?”

Angelisse giggled again, her hands running over her body in a playful and flirty manner. “I'm the maid of honor,” she replied coyly. “And I'm having the time of my life.”

Timothée couldn't take his eyes off of her, she seemed too good to be true. She was a goddess, and her playful and confident demeanor was like a breath of fresh air and an absolute turn-on.

Timothée couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so attracted to someone, and he knew he had to make a move. He took a step closer to Angelisse, his gaze never leaving hers.

“You're absolutely stunning, you know that?” he said, his voice rough with desire. “I'm one lucky guy.”

Angelisse felt her heart flutter. She had never felt like this with anyone in her life.

Timothée closed the distance and gently placed his hand on her waist. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body, and he knew that she was just as attracted to him as he was to her.

“Would you like to go somewhere more private, Angelisse?” he whispered, his voice husky. “I'd love to get to know you better.”

Angelisse felt shivers go down her spine at his words. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and followed him out of the bathroom and into the crowds. Timothée led Angelisse through the crowd, his hand still on her waist protectively. They reached a quiet corner of the club, and Timothée paused, looking at Angelisse.

“Is this private enough for you?” he asked, his eyes locking into hers.

Angelisse nodded, her cheeks pink from the alcohol and the excitement. “Perfect.” she replied, smiling at him like a lovesick teenage girl.

“So, what's your story? What do you do in life? Besides being impossibly handsome, I mean.” she asked as she sipped on her drink.

“I do stuff. What about you? Besides being incredibly irresistible, I mean.” he asked with a smile.

Angelisse giggled, her eyes shining with flirtation. “I'm a financial consultant.” She exaggerated, her words coming out slurred because of the alcohol.

“I've never seen a girl as beautiful as you are.” Timothée smiled as he stared at Angelisse.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

“Don't mind if I do.” Timothée chuckled, pulling out a camera from his jacket. He fumbled with it for a moment before pressing the button and capturing a photo of her.

“You're a goddess, baby girl.” Timothée chuckled, his hand on Angelisse's leg.

“Let's get out of here,” Timothée whispered in her ear. “I know a place where we can have some real fun.”

Angelisse stumbled after him, a look of excitement on her face. Despite their drunken state, she felt like she was on top of the world, with the most gorgeous man in the room at her side.

“Lead the way.” she giggled.

“Oh, baby, I think I'm in love with you,” Timothée continued, his hand in hers. “Marry me?” Timothée asked, stumbling forward.

“Think you can handle me?” she purred, her hand brushing against Timothée's cheek flirtatiously.

Timothée smirked at her, his eyes twinkling. He loved a challenge, and Angelisse was definitely that. “I can handle anything you can dish out,” he replied, his voice full of confidence. “But the question is, can you handle me?”

Angelisse returned his smirk, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “I can handle anything, babe,” she replied. “And I'll bet you can't handle me at all.”

“Well, I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go to.” Timothée smirked. “No one will know.”

“Let's do it,” she replied, her eyes shining in the night light. “Just for tonight, just for the fun of it.”

Angelisse had never done anything like this before, but she was ready for anything.

Timothée's heart skipped a beat. This woman was intoxicating. She was a fire that couldn't be tamed, but he loved every second of it.

“Let's do it!” Timothée smiled like the Cheshire cat, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.

They found the chapel, and Timothée led her inside. They giggled as they stumbled through the church, giggling and kissing. They knew they shouldn't be there, but they didn't care. They were living in the moment, completely and utterly reckless.

12:30 AM, February 14, 2022

“Do you take-” 

”I do.” Timothée smiled like the Cheshire cat, his hands in hers.

“Do you take-"

“I totally do!” Angelisse giggled.

“Wow, you two are in a rush to get married, huh?” The officiant chuckled, “And by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Timothée leaned in, his lips meeting Angelisse's in a passionate kiss. He held her close, his hands roaming over her body as he poured all of his desire and need into the kiss.

Angelisse melted in his arms, her hands tracing over his body and tangling in his hair. She had never felt so passionate or so desired, and she wanted this moment to last forever.

[brewstersbru]

Uh-oh have some more; i have a problem ! Huskerdust pt. 2 🕸️❤️‍🩹

It’s stupid. Really, it’s fucking insane, nonsensical, and the worst goddamn idea Angel’s had since he sold his soul. Still, though, he can’t stop humming the song.

“I’m a loser, baby…” He sings to himself, curled around Nug as he stares out his window into the neon lights and building fires that ever burn throughout the city. One thing he likes about the hotel- aside from actually having people who care about what happens to him, and a safe (and free!) place to sleep- is that he can’t see Val’s from his room's window. He can fall asleep without his sword hanging over his neck, without the constant reminder of what he’s allowed himself to become.

Before tonight, before Husk’s surprisingly uplifting little song and dance number, Angel hated most of what he was. Yeah he likes sex, but he doesn’t like being a whore. Doesn’t like being Val’s whore, especially. 

And it didn’t make anything better, not really. Not in any way that matters. But it was nice to smile at Husk and not be expected to put out for it. To dance and sing without a leash, and instead gentle fleeting touches to guide him through the steps.

Angel curls further into himself, Nug makes a soft squealing noise at the jostling. 

Husk was so careful with him. They were on the side of the goddamn street, next to a puddle of bum-puke (which Husk had prevented from getting on him!!) and Husk chose to be kind with Angel. What an idiot. What a gentleman.

They’d never work out, Angel has to remind himself of that when a shiver of a feeling he’d thought had long been fucked or beaten out of him by now works its way through his body. Warm and sugary. 

Both beholden to contracts they’d signed, pets to egotistic psychopaths entirely too eager to make them suffer. What now feels so comforting could very quickly turn into something agonizing and painful. Plus, Husk doesn’t want him. He’s made that abundantly clear by now. Sure he’s being nice now that Angel’s ‘respecting his boundaries’ or whatever but the boundaries are there for a reason. He doesn’t want Angel. So much that it makes him uncomfortable if he gets too close.  

Angel can feel his eyelids getting heavy, but there’s a jittering in his chest that signals a rough night. Shit, even with a night as good as this one, he can’t sleep in peace? 

He’s a loser. Damaged goods. Maybe he’s not alone, but fuck if he doesn’t feel it right now. 

Nug wriggles out from the lax cage of his arms and jumps off the bed. 

***

There are texts from Val waiting on Angel’s phone when he wakes up. 

He was right, it was a rough night. Only managed a cool three hours of fitful tossing before his alarm rang for the hotel’s ‘daily activities’. Say what you will about him, he’s nothing if not punctual (and Charlie had looked real pitiful when she asked him to come down in the mornings more, it’s really impossible to say no to her face). 

The texts are a long eternity of scrolling pink. Angel sighs at the few words he manages to catch as he makes his way to the top, “whore” (unoriginal), “bitch” (overdone), “ungrateful” (points for accuracy), and a whole myriad of other demeaning things that his exhaustion addled mind can’t be assed to fully compartmentalize.

He didn’t know how much he’d miss being called “baby” in that smooth low baritone until now; being called all the regular stuff makes his stomach churn in comparison. Or maybe it’s just who’s calling him what. He’d let Husk call him whatever he wanted if he kept being all gentle with him. Shit, it hasn’t even been a day and he’s already mooning like a whiny romance protagonist. Eugh. 

Looks like he’s got another long shoot today. He’s expected over in an hour or so, and Val had signed off with an “xoxo” which really means “or else”. God, he’s really punishing him for stepping out of line this time. Angel can feel a twinge of something in his back as he stands from his bed. Even with an enhanced body, fourteen hours nonstop took it’s toll, and it’s just going to get worse from here. He winces to himself and moves to rub at the sore spot. “Fuck.” He mutters, casting around for a decently sexy outfit so Val doesn’t have another thing to nitpick about. 

It doesn’t take long, after the first several years of coming home sticky and itchy Angel had curated his closet to be both sexy and comfortable. Every piece strikes that balance perfectly and nothing clashes when combined. He’s quite proud of it actually, but it’s not something that comes up often in conversation so he doesn’t really ever have the occasion to brag. 

Husk is- as he always is- shining glasses behind the bar when Angel makes his way down. One has to wonder if the dishes he’s cleaning are actually dirty, or if he just needs something to do with his hands. Angel would put a lot of money on the latter, no one here- even with all the alcoholics- could possibly go through glasses that fast. 

Husk’s eyes dart up to his when the stairs let out a sharp creak, announcing his presence. With a small, private smile he waves him over.

“Mornin’ Angel. Fancy a drink?”

It’s really pathetic how much Angel has to fight to not give in. Not to walk over and settle at the bar, letting that warm, even voice soothe all his decades old aches and pains. He smiles, but it’s tight and untrue. Husk glances down at his lips for a moment, frowns, then goes back to shining.

“Sorry, Kitty, got a shoot. Raincheck?” He hopes he says yes. What he would give to be able to see Husk at the end of the- long, painful and entirely exhausting- day and share a drink. He’s never been to heaven, never even tried thinking about what might be up there because, well, look at him. It’s not really his kind of place, is it?

Still, though, a drink with Husk at the end of today’s misery has got to be pretty damn close. As close as Angel can ever hope to get, anyways. Husk sets the newly polished glass down, and leans against the countertop.

“Sure thing. I’ll have a cosmo waiting.” Angel can tell he wants to ask, that he wants to say something about Val and the fact that this is the second day in a row Angel is going in for a long shoot. About the bruises that are still visible, having just started purpling against Angel’s skin. But he doesn’t, he bites his tongue and offers what solace he can. The feeling that bubbles beneath Angel’s skin at this realization is hot and dangerous. 

He nods, curt and with another stiff smile before scurrying off. He hates that Husk has seen him like this. 

“I can’t wait.” Angel mutters- more to himself than anything- at the cusp of the doorway. 

And it’s the gospel goddamned truth. 

***

It’s late, definitely later than whatever ballpark time Husk had in mind when he accepted the raincheck for tonight and though Angel knows Husk’s not really one to give much of a shit about punctuality-  when you have eternity ahead of you, ‘on time’ becomes pretty damned relative- he still feels like shit for keeping him waiting.

He’s fidgeting in the back of a sleek, pink limo Val had been kind enough to provide him when, at the end of today’s shoot, Angel had found himself frighteningly unable to walk. Of course, nothing is ever free in this unlife, so Val had taken a cut of his earnings to ‘compensate himself’ for having to cart Angel around, when, if he’d just done as he was told, he wouldn’t have gotten himself hurt enough to need it. 

Angel doesn’t want to buy into the idea, but Val has a point. He needs to be more careful if he’s going to continue being of any use to the hotel. As much as he pretends to be an uncaring freeloader, something itches beneath his skin at the thought of actually becoming one. He can pull his weight. He can pull his goddamned weight.

The limo swerves in front of the hotel and lets him off with little fanfare; Angel gingerly picks his way up the hill to the large front doors, wincing and trying to ignore the stabbing agony going on below his waist with each step. 

He doesn’t expect to see anyone when he walks in, it’s late, and they have ‘redemption’ exercises to do in the morning; even Husk has to have a bedtime and it’s late enough that Angel assumes the time has already passed. Hell, if Angel didn’t have work today he’d probably be asleep by now. 

And yet- as he tiptoes past the threshold, gently pulling the door closed behind him- Angel hears a low rumbling sound. The lights in the lobby are off, as expected, but there’s just enough ambient light to reveal a small lump curled up on the couch. Upon closer inspection, Angel realizes that the sound is purring, and the lump is Husk. 

“What the fuck…” He mutters to himself, as Husk’s purring is interrupted by what Angel can only describe as a hitching snore before resuming with even more force. His wings, which have been wrapped around himself in a facsimile of a blanket, tremble and shudder with the power of the vibrations. Angel has to strangle the coo that tries to escape his lips at the sight. 

Fuck, that’s adorable. He really is just a kitty underneath all that jaded bullshit, huh. Unwitting, Angel’s hand reaches out to coast over the fur on his head. Not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warm shudder of contented purring. It’s enough to make Angel forget about his injuries for the moment, too enamored with the rare sight of a pleasantly sated Husk in the throes of sleep. 

Alas, the bliss of the moment is short-lived, and before Angel can tug his hand away, Husk snatches it out of the air, scrambling up into a sitting position to glare at him and hiss. Okay, even his hissing is kind of cute, but that might just be Angel’s fucked up-ness talking. 

“Hey… Huskie…” Angel eeks, trying to pull his hand away from Husk’s bruising grip. His body’s already got its work cut out with his other injuries, it doesn’t need more paltry bruises to expend its energy on. 

Husk shakes his head and, after a moment, his eyes clear of the film of sleep. Once he recognizes Angel in front of him, he drops his arm, as if burned. 

“Fuck, Angel. Y’can’t sneak up on me like that.” Having regained his senses, he takes a moment to apprise himself of the state of Angel, eyes roving critically over each exposed patch of skin in the dim light. His expression gradually hardens as he becomes more and more aware of just how much damage there is to contend with. Angel, desperate to talk about literally anything but his bleeding body laughs hollowly.

“Yeah, sorry man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep before, though, did you know you purr?” Husk gives him a blank look at the obvious attempt at deflection but, after a moment, shrugs and scoots over, patting the space beside him on the couch. “I was aware. Must’ve passed out waiting for you.” He scratches at the chops of fur just below his chin as he speaks, seemingly unconcerned with what he’s just said. That he waited for Angel to come back so they could have their raincheck; that he waited up and Angel was late. 

Angel feels a little sick, the mixture of butterflies and sinking despair in his gut creating something entirely new, and entirely nauseating. He winces, but settles on the couch, curling into himself. “Sorry about that, Tuts. Got a little caught up at the studio… Y’know you didn’t have to wait up, right? We can always raincheck another day.”

It’s quiet for a long, excruciating moment, before Angel feels Husk’s eyes on him again. He can’t bring himself to meet them, instead staring further into the relative safety of the knotted wooden floor. Husk sighs.

“I know. I wanted to.” 

Oh. Oh, fuck. Angel is infinitely thankful for the fact that the lights are off because he can feel the aggressive flush working its way up his cheeks and knows it would be incredibly obvious, if it isn’t already. He coughs into one of his hands. 

“But… I was late…? It’s- it’s like four AM. I wouldn't blame you for just going to bed.” Angel isn’t really sure why he’s arguing with Husk about this, all he knows is that none of what has happened since he walked into the hotel has made any goddamn sense, and it’s making his stomach churn. Husk’s tail swishes, hovering lightly over the span of Angel’s hunched shoulders, not touching, but close enough to feel. 

Finally, after another long minute of silence, Husk speaks.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back okay.” Part of Angel swoons at the gentlemanly sentiment, the rest of him bristles at the implication that he needs that. That he can’t make sure he gets back okay on his own. That he’s weak. He whips around to glare at a startled Husk. 

“And you don’t think I can get myself back safely? Fuck you, man, I’m not some weak little damsel in need of saving.” He spits. Husk shakes his head, eyes wide at the vehemence in Angel’s words. His hand raises from his lap- perhaps to reach out, to comfort- but at Angel’s expression, he brings it to his own arm to rub at his tricep sheepishly. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Angel.” He scolds, brows furrowed, “I don’t think you’re weak, I just don’t want you to feel like you’re facing this alone.”

Angel scoffs and turns away. Evidently, that’s the breaking point for Husk, because he huffs and snarls, “What? I can’t care about you?” There’s a static to his movements, a ruffling to his fur that indicates real irritation. For some reason, that makes Angel angrier. 

“Not if you’re not fucking me! Not if you don’t get any fucking thing out of it! Fuck!” His wounds give a valiant, biting twinge at the end of his sentence, causing Angel to hunch over himself and press a hand against his side while he struggles to catch his breath. Through the haze of agony, he hears shuffling, and feels the couch straighten as Husk rises to leave. 

Good fucking riddance. Angel knew it was all talk. He knew it. 

His breaths remain ragged for a long time while he tries to get ahold of himself again. Enough, at least, that he can drag himself back to his room. He curses Husk, but more so he curses himself for getting himself into this situation in the first place. What was his one rule? Don’t get attached, don’t let them lure you into thinking they care because they never do, and you’re just going to end up getting your feelings hurt if you keep being stupid about it. 

The pain does not abate, even as his thoughts spiral ever downwards into despair. 

After an excruciating, indeterminate amount of time, he feels the couch dip again and, unwilling to face whatever well-meaning do-gooder it is this time, Angel shakes his head. 

“Leave. Me. Alone.” he grits, each word more painful than the last. The person does not leave.

“Are you gonna let me help you now, or is it going to be another fight?” It’s Husk’s voice. He’s back. Fuck, why is he back? The noise of confusion that bursts from Angel’s lips is entirely unwitting. He opens his mouth to offer a scathing rebuttal, but can only manage a soft groan. Husk scoots closer. He’s warm. Fuzzy.

“Just nod or shake your head. Can I touch you?” Angel takes a moment to think about it, but has to acquiesce to himself that if he doesn’t let Husk touch him, he’s going to be in agony for the rest of the night. With great effort, he nods. A heavy breath punches itself from Husk’s lips, fanning warmly across Angel’s head. 

“Okay. Good. I’m gonna lay you down so I can get a better look.” Angel desperately wants to make a joke about the phrasing of that, but doesn’t get the chance before he's being manhandled onto his back. It’s a familiar situation, but the usual spike of fear in his throat is noticeably absent this time. Angel doesn’t dwell on what that might mean. 

Husk works quickly and efficiently on Angel’s wounds, soothing him with a warm hand through Angel’s hair whenever the pain gets to be too much- punching miserable little sounds from him- and keeping his touches strictly clinical. When he finishes, he sits back on his heels with a sigh. Settling back at the other end of the couch and allowing Angel his personal space again. Angel’s eyes feel surprisingly heavy. He catches a soft look from Husk before they flutter closed. 

Husk chuckles, soft and low.

“See? Doesn’t always have to be a fight.”

[shesmore-shoebill]

since you mentioned an angel in neon blue as one of your faves…..your top 5 amangela fics perhaps? some honorary mentions too if there’s too many? 👀

Sorry for the delay on this, life got busy and then more busy instead of less busy and I wanted to give this ask its deserved amount of consideration.

anyway. Five is HARD. I will do my best. Order is not indicative of anything bc I've agonized long enough as it is. I've tagged folks + linked directly to their posts where I could find their associated tumblr post, and links to AO3 where I couldn't.

Also I cheated and made a separate list for NSFW ones. Partly because I know some people don't want to read NSFW. and to cheat a little on the 5 restriction.

As always, RPF with F as in fiction. From what I recall, none of these are attempting to speculate or make any actual statements about real people, they're all just works of fiction I like.

if anyone wants me to remove a link to their fic or a tag for any reason, let me know.

close my eyes (and fantasize) by @baflegacy

listen. I am a fucking sucker for well intentioned and realistic miscommunication that stems from care and then goes wrong. I love a thing where someone cares about someone and thats why they're worried and the worry also means they are a little mad and a little hurt bc fuck, i want to help you, why arent you talking to me about this, did i do something, crossed with the other person doing everything in their power to do the exact thing driving them up the wall, because they genuinely care so much about the other person that its skewing their judgement. People who care and people who fuck up. I'll eat it up every time, and this one is written in a way that feels so real. 👌👌👌👌

the devil is in the details by @skiespeaches

this is a newer fic and its still in progress atm and so theres a chance it gets bumped into NSFW territory 😅 but im really enjoying it!!! The dynamic between Amanda and Angela takes the competitive edge we can see in videos and makes it into something phenomenal. Its got such strong tension and pacing, and its also got. REALLY GOOD COMMUNICATION. People react realistically and have reasonable fears and doubts but everyone also talks about them and trusts each other and its just so satisfying to read as a result. And it STILL does the tension and the 👀👀👀👀👀 so well. Guess its kind of funny to put this and the prior recc right next to each other but I genuinely love both of these. Communication and humans are weird.

not strong enough by @moviemandy

i love a disaster angela fic as much as anyone but because I feel like that trope is established among smosh rpf, I love having that get subverted even more. More Amanda getting comforted!!! yeah!!!!!And the way the dynamic and emotions are written in this one is especially satisfying to me, they all feel very real, and sweet. :') Also, Im always a sucker for the trope where someone tries to deflect from their issues by taking care of someone else and then gets CALLED OUT FOR IT. also, double bonus, this fic can be read completely platonically. :]

a field of yellow flowers by @unknownteapot

gah this one has so many layers and elements to it, its such a damn delight to reread. the bittersweetness of it all really 👌👌👌👌. Grudging respect and admiration in an awful space, magnetism of people who both deeply want to love each other and really don't (but they do). The world feels very realized and that's so important bc the fic clearly sets up the interplay as like. The two of them and also the world they are in as a distinct three players in the story. This fic has so many emotions!!! gut punch of an end! you feel for both of them so deeply by the end.

i've been having revelations by @poppyfamily

slight cheating bc this is courtmangela but it should still count imo!!! It contains another classic trope of people who care about each other deeply and it being percieved by other people before they clock it themselves. Its something I like specifically as a writing trope and only executed in specific ways- caring deeply and being affectionate does not HAVE to mean you want to sleep with or are in love with someone, and IRL assumptions about that can be. Infuriating. But love how this fic does it. :) Also its funny and it feels very genuine and the voices all sound. right. I love fics with lots of cuts where so much is said in tiny details and tiny moments, it makes the world feel very fleshed out. Also, Courtmangela as a band is just a blessed concept.

NSFW fics:

lets make this bed get squeaky by baflegacy

This rewrote my goddamn brain chemistry actually. Like yes, this one is hot, but the parts that really hooked into my brain are not exclusively the spicy bits. Pining RPF Amanda is SO important to my brain, and that dynamic of an Amanda silently losing her mind and Angela also silently losing her mind but slightly more at peace about it, combined with their very genuine friendship keeping things fine and then. and THEN. well.

personal leisure by unknownteapot

hey this fic is hot as hell. Its extremely well written. But also besides the nsfw parts the banter and the sort of instant connection all feel very real and unforced and i love that the end of the fic feels so open ended but also so light and hopeful and sweet. choosing to believe they meet for coffee the next day and it all goes swimmingly.

like she wants to try me on by baflegacy

this fic is about amanda in the submissive and breedable outfit and angela. It accomplishes eveeything you could want from that. Its Very nsfw. its VERY good. Writing smut is difficult on multiple levels- keeping it logistically and emotionally sound while keeping it spicy. It does all three really well. also the aftercare moment is really sweet. :]

bonus: its the subject of this ask so i didnt include it but shout out to an angel in neon blue- the tension is INCREDIBLE and the way the ending recontextualizes everything and leaves you unsure who was really in control the whole time is like. really impressive. The characterization is SO strong and feels so true to the Sarah Christ we know and creates an equally strong Creekside Killer characterization to juxtapose it. 👌

[shopwitchvamp]

Our newest collection, "Bittersweet Spring Aroma", is live now!

↓ Long post with all the designs below↓ 

"Hanami Day" [Jogger] [Midi] [Skater]

This design is inspired by the feeling of sakura viewing ("hanami") on a clear spring day! The background has a slight gradient from pastel to sky blue, with a cascade of pink flowers and petals on top.

"Flower Pop" [Skater] [Maxi]

This design was a total wildcard that seemingly came out of nowhere. (Possession by the spirit of the '60s?!) I was imagining an abstracted scene of sakura trees, flowers, and a spring breeze. It's one of the most vibrant and out there designs I've ever made!

"Neon Blossom" [Maxi] [Joggers] [Midi]

I love a solid black plus one vibrant color design. Things like this were my go-to style back in my Hot Top*c Mall Goth days. So ya know I had to make at least one sakura design with this aesthetic in mind.

"Petal" [Midi] [Skater]

I wanted to include a couple solids in this collection, so of course one needed to be a delicate cherry blossom pink. Makes me want sakura mochi...

"Matcha" [Maxi] [Midi]

You've gotta have slightly bitter, rich matcha to compliment all this sweet sakura! The second solid color for this collection is inspired by matcha tea, and I think it'd make a great neutral green to pair with lots of items in both spring and fall.

"Sakura Cake Soap" [Handmade Soap]

By @breadborks

Along the same sakura + matcha lines, here's the first of our collab items for this collection!! A soap that both looks & smells tasty enough to eat (but watch out!) Each soap will also come with an adorable matching sakura bunny sticker~

"Sakura Latte" [Midi] [Joggers]

I honestly couldn't get enough of this color palette, so I went for a colorblock type design inspired by layered sakura matcha lattes! If only I could have one right now~~

"BLOOM Green Tea" + "Angel Aura Quartz Tea Strainers"

[Tea] [Tea Strainers]

By Night Rituals Occult (on IG)

With all the tea & floral themes in this collection, I knew I wanted to be able to feature an actual floral tea!! (Plus I just LOVE tea, I have 2 cabinets in my kitchen just for tea)

"Uzuki" [Maxi] [Joggers]

The sketch for this design (last pic) was done allll the way back in like February of last year, and it's the idea that ultimately spawned this whole collection. I'm so excited to finally be able to bring it to life.

"The Unwatered - Cherry Blossom Succulent Candle"

[Handmade Candle]

By &Ivy (on Twitter and IG)

These gorgeous custom terrarium candles were were beautifully crafted with colors inspired by sakura season & infused with a bright, floral cherry blossom aroma. Another perfect collab compliment to the collection!

"Hanami Night" [Joggers] [Midi] [Skater]

A night sakura viewing inspired design to end things off!! Everything is live now, so be sure to go check it all out while most items are still available! See you there~

🖤witchvamp.com🖤

[purplemoonabove]

Beautiful, an Angel Dust x Husker/Husk One-Shot

One chapter only

Wrote it as a writing prompt – “Beautiful”

Inspired by that romantic scene in Fresh Prince. When Philip was describing how beautiful Vivian (the first one) was, the two standing in front of a body mirror. Such a beautiful scene if you haven’t seen it yet!

Light uses of swearing/cursing

Husk’s POV

.

.

.

Beautiful.

It was the first word that popped in his mind.

He would deny it out loud in avoid embarrassment, but in his mind, the truth was loud and clear.

He looked beautiful — He is beautiful.

A part of him then thought of a funny: how a common drug name, used currently for an adult film stage name, can also be how it was done.

Angel.

Dust.

A blessing from an unknown substance that’d be an irritation but actually owned an effect upon physical contact. No allergies, no congestion, no skin damages. He wasn’t sure if the latter would be possible. Decades in the current life and appearance made human skin a shedded layer for a new type to grow and life with. Angel was no different, even with multiple arms and eyes and owning a venom that was rarely exposed through a bite.

It was, as if, an amplification to the actor.

Keeping him as beautiful as he may have been when alive in his new demonic form.

Could he even call him demonic? Is ‘demon’ even a good term to describe? Before it’d be an annoyance – a mask that hid the true spider man’s nature – but now was a new direction: being a proud loser like himself.

Just more beautiful, at that.

“Kitty~”

Even his voice was beautiful, the thought expressed before blinking a return to reality. The spider sat upon his stool by his multi-lit vanity table. His breath-taking, neon-colored heterochromia eyes gazed with curiosity and humor towards him.

He smirked, the golden tooth sticking out.

“Like what you see~?”

Such a skill in teasing and enticing someone to be in his temperate possession was an act Husk would always avoid – in the past. With a soft chuckle, he rose from sitting at the side of the bed to go over.

“Can you blame me?” He returned, not even denying him. Not this time, ever since the new change of relation.

Angel giggled then waved a spared hand. “Nah, I know I’m gorgeous.”

The smirk stayed as he resumed on his powder work at the cheek. Only to waver in further curiosity, his hand slowing to a stop as clawed hands laid and held in a gentle touch on his shoulders.

Golden eyes stared at the pink through the mirror’s reflection, connected as the winged cat lowered his head.

“You’re much more than that,” Husk purred in his ear. Reaction was immediate: the back straightened, his eyes widened, a hint of red came under the furred cheeks, and the powder puff laid correctly in the container without notice.

Fucking cute.

“I see a young man right before my very eyes, who made it impossible to compare. Sweet fluff of fresh snow, with a gazing of melted pink diamonds to form such hearts. Eyes so breathlessly hypnotic through emotions and appearance. Hands to hold more than expected, feeling the love and care in every grasp. And a smile… Oh, that beautiful smile that brings just a little bit of color into this red, dark world.”

“Fuck.”

Angel broke away, turning to hide but Husk can easily see behind the covering hand the growth of said smile and redness that became a line over his nose.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

Angel didn’t turn, wanting to lower his head to hide under the table.

“Husk–”

One hand released the shoulder to grab the closest cheek, carefully turning until the red and bashful spider made contact to his reflection again.

Husk smiled, and whispered his repeat.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

The request was short-lived when Angel’s eyes shut tight.

“Argh!”

It was the only warning before Husk felt slightly winded, then adjusted with a chuckle as the spider pressed his make-up face into his bare, fluffy torso. The four arms wrapped about him as they would when cuddling, only with a grip due to the embarrassment.

“I like grumpy Husk better!” Angel complained into his chest, muffling. “I’m not used to this shit! When did you get all ‘romantified’ or some shit?!”

Husk release a long laugh that vibrated his being. One clawed hand gentle raked through the massive hair, already washed and combed before.

“I think I’ve always had it when alive and all,” he confessed, then shrugged. “Guess there was no reason for me to do it again when dead… until now.”

The arms tightened. Husk smiled.

“Do you want me to stop?” He then asked, the raking at a pause for the answer.

“… No…”

The hand moved towards the chin, lifting Angel’s pouting and red face.

Such a precious gem you are. I’m so lucky.

“So beautiful.”

Angel scrunched up his nose, the red practically burning. “Husky!”

Future complaining was forgotten once Husk sealed their lips for a well-deserved kiss. Relaxation being instant, Angel’s top arms went to wrap around his neck while the bottom two stayed put, but loosened during. With Angel soon getting up, Husk got his own arms to wrap at the small waist, their bodies held close with no desire of letting go.

At a moment of oblivious time, their lips eventually pulled away, but allowed a brushing at contact.

There, Angel whispered with a content smile.

“Thank you, Husk.”

…

I can’t get enough of these two. Weeks of them and I can’t stop! 😍

[wozziey]

Some Hazbin Hotel redesigns i did for fun!

Changes i made for each character👇

Charlie🐐😈🌈:

1.I got rid of all the red in her design so she can really stand out from the rest of hell (also because in my version/rewrite the hazbin hotel itself is painted in golds and blues so it can match more of heaven's aesthetic since the hotel's goal is to get demons into heaven). 2.I made her a goat demon (even though vivziepop said she isn't a goat the idea was to cute to pass on; also it makes her look way more like a demon than the canon design). 3.I gave her an actual hotel manager uniform insted of the usual "vivziepop tuxedo + bow tie combo" lol.

Alastor🦌📻😈:

1.I gave him a more historically accurate outfit since he died in the 1930's. 2.And i gave him deer and poc features because vivziepop said he is a deer demon and was mixed creole when he was alive (and you can't really see that in the og design). 3.I gave him rib bones on his ouftif to reflect the fact that he's a cannibal (inspired by @lovesart23). 4. I moved his ears down so them and his antlers (that i also changed the shape and size btw), can stop fighting for attention on the top of his head.

Angel Dust🕷️😈:

1. I gave him a more revealing outfit since he works with 18+ stuff. 2. I gave him a "spiderbutt" so he can look more like a spider demon. 3. I gave him a haircut that resembles the ones in the 1940's a bit more (since that's the time period he died); also made his hair pink so you can know when it begins and when it ends; plus the detail that the tips of his hair now look like little spider fangs. 4.And last but not least i made both of his eyes black and both of his teeth/fangs gold (for simplicity's sake).

Vaggie🦋😈:

1.I completely changed her colors to a more neon color palette because surprise in my rewrite/AU she glows in the dark!. 2. I changed her outfit because here she's not the hotel's manager anymore; instead she's the hotel's security guard (and because of that she's now more muscular!). 3. Her hair now resembles more moth wings (because the canon looks more like butterfly wings) also now she has moth antennas so she can really look like well... A MOTH DEMON!!!. 4. Her boots are made of angelic steel that she uses as a weapon. 5. Also in my rewrite/AU she's NOT a fallen angel (that reveal contradicts almost all of her previous lore and seemed like viv just put this plot twist in the show for shock value or because she found the fan theories people were making cool and said "it's canon now lol") but she still has a history with Lute.

Niffty🪳😈:

1.So apparently Nifty was supposed to be an insect/alien demon???. So, I turned her into a cockroach with little alien antennas!. 2.I gave her a more defined maid outfit since that's what she is. 3.I changed her color palette obviously lol.