#also if i forgot to tag a warning/list a warning that i should list

[etfrin]

⤷❝Jealous, jealous girl | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, toxic relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, fucked up thoughts, toxic! jealous! possessive reader, bondage (eyes and hands), dom sub undertones, face riding, cunnilingus, thigh riding, riding, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), mentions of killing | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young! president Snow x fem! reader

⇢☾Summary: being jelly leads to sexy times!

⇢☾A/N: hope y'all enjoy this!

previous installments of AM au: the study, mine to love, the quiet gift

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

He didn't take account of your possessiveness when he decided to charm some of the elitists of the Capitol. It was his duty to keep them under his pocket whether it be with empty smiles or deadly threats. Though the latter might have been easier with how you were glaring at everyone who made a passing or suggestive comment towards Coriolanus.

Even with his arm around your waist, you pressed against him wasn't enough to satiate you. His presence wasn't enough to calm you down, not when you wanted to burn down everyone in the gala who looked at Snow with lustful eyes. He was taken. He was your husband. Yours.

Coryo didn't realize what was wrong, surely it was obvious that you were in a bad mood but that was no way to behave. He had to talk with his pet.

And he was planning on that when he entered the room, to see you on the phone, a call that you immediately cut and look at him with a smile that cut through his bones because he knew it was fake. It was a smile he had to wear a thousand times and now you were looking at him the same way.

“What was that call?” He asked roughly, his eyebrows furrowing, his fingers twitching, his mind already thinking of locking you up and wondering if you had found a lover. He- he-

“It was just-” You tilt your head, your mind already figuring out his thoughts, your first instinct was to lie. However, you knew better than that.

“I want to fuck someone over,” you said instead, blunt and straight to the point without any riddles so that your husband doesn't overthink it. He.. he felt himself calm down a bit. “Who?” He asked his mind at ease. Has someone hurt you? Insulted you? It was rare for you to take such actions, especially when Coriolanus made sure no one could mistreat you.

You bite your lower lip, wondering if you should lie. Snow hadn't seen your ugly side as much as you have seen him. But… perhaps it's about time he should and you were angry. At him and everyone who dared their lustful eyes and filthy hands on your man (You wanted to claw their eyes out, you wanted to cut their hand off for such a sin). Corio called you his dove, his pet, his property. But he seems to forget that he is also yours, your husband, your lover, your man. It was time to remind him of that.

You walked towards him until he backed up to the door, it was a position that you both knew except he was the one pinned for a change. “A bitch,” you ended up saying, your fingertips grazing his sharp jawline. His eyes widened, a familiar heaviness to his breathing and his pupils began to dilate. “Which bitch?” He said, turning his face away to focus and not kiss your pretty lips. “The one who couldn't take her hands off what's mine,” you whispered, your hands on his customized suit, pushing the fabric away from his shoulder and letting it fall. Then your fingers were busy twisting the buttons so you could see this man's golden skin, but the action was stopped when Corio softly asked, “Yours?”

Even if his tone was soft, you knew better than to believe it. Coriolanus Snow belonging to someone? He couldn't think of a worse joke, that just made you even more frustrated, so frustrated that you don't bother unbuttoning his buttons. You begin to rip them one by one. Coryo allows you to act in this manner, knowing that you need to deal with this in your own way.

“I am not yours,” he said, “I don't belong to you.” You wanted to slap the man. You never had a greater urge too before. You clenched your jaw, “You are.” Your hand goes to the pendant you always wore after your first anniversary. A necklace with his initials.

“It’s a two-way street, Coriolanus Snow. You're my husband, my man, and my lover. I am yours as much as you are mine,” your fingers grip the chain, “Or I can tear this from my neck and walk away.” Coryo was going to punish you for those words, there was no doubt about it. His eyes, those blue ocean eyes had anger in them now. How dare you threaten, Snow?

You waited for an answer, both of your chests heaving with passion waiting to explode. “Threaten to leave again, I'll break those legs of yours and chain you to the bed.” Your breath hitches from his words, the truth ringing in his voice. This insane man… you had no words to say so you didn't. You pressed him to the door, your lips clashing with his. For the first time, you didn't give in to the fight for dominance. Both of your teeth clashing, the tongues fighting in war and neither side winning but becoming a greater mess.

“You're a coward, Coryo,” you whispered as you were pushed back to the bed, neither of you giving up the fight to control the kiss. You refused to be underneath him for him tonight. Coriolanus Snow owned you and you wanted the taste of owning him. You manage to straddle him, saliva covering both of your chins from the messy kiss neither refusing to break.

“You- how dare you let her touch you like this,” you whispered, a hint of insecurity creeping into your sound. “They can look at you all they want, envy all they want but touch is reserved for me only. For me, Coryo. Next time it's brought to my attention that you let yourself be groped like that whether it be for your interests or Panem. Rest assured they won't be seeing the sun again and every inch of your skin that was touched…” You couldn't complete the threat, not when his eyes widened. Coriolanus felt like he was looking in a mirror.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed, “There is a reason why we work out, sweetheart. It's not because of whatever formulas you have in your mind to control me, to have me. It's because I am just as insane as you, if not more but I have an infinite amount of control over myself.”

He was thinking, thinking of what you didn't know. You didn't want to know what epiphany had crushed the man from your honest words filled with ugly deep jealousy. You didn't want to let yourself wonder either if he would have preferred someone sane, someone less jealous and possessive. Someone opposite of him in every regard.

But Snow leans forward to kiss you. It's… delicate the kiss. A brush of his soft lips against yours, a grin blessing his face. “What?” You whispered, hesitantly. “You’re perfect,” he said, and those words did things to you, nearly enough to melt away your anger. Nearly.

“And your perfection is aggravating,” you said, with each word a kiss was pressed to his lips. “I love you,” you whispered, a wet kiss pressed to his jaw that went down the path of his neck to his pulse. Your hands shamelessly undress him. “But you truly vex me, Coryo.” you let out as you bite the spot of his pulse, sucking his life from his skin, formatting a bruise, marking him as yours.

“Calm down,” he grunts as he also undresses you, his touch on your heated skin damning you to hell. “I am here, pet.” Finally, both of you were unrestricted by clothes, lips clashing with each other as the hands roamed the body in a hurry. Neither of you was going to disappear, but the desperation as if one of you would slip away like sand clawed at both of your minds.

You didn't reply to his reassurance, you pushed him till his back was pinned on the mattress and he let you. For once you were in control and you had no idea what to do with it. You bite your lip, pondering what should be the next course. You wanted to ride him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to regret it. But most importantly you wanted him to realize he is addicted to you too, as you are with him.

So you pulled back, ignoring the flash of confusion on his face, and went to the closet to pick out two ties. One red, another black, both gifts from you. Coryo raised his eyebrows but indulged you without saying a word, knowing that he would get you back for it. You let him sit up, as you tied his hands together behind his back and then tied the blindfold around his eyes.

“Let me play with you today, Coryo,” you said, “It will be fun.” Coryo replied with a warning, “Do not cross the line.”

You were never an obedient pet. You placed your cunt on his thigh, your folds soaking with arousal, your walls needing his cock but you ignored the want as you began to grind yourself slowly against the tense muscles of his leg. “Coriolanus Snow, the perfect man, the perfect student, the perfect president. Tell me Coryo, would you consider yourself a perfect husband?” “Sweetheart,” he warns you, not ready to hear whatever criticism you want to spew. He could never be a perfect man, perfect in the sense of good and bad. He couldn't but that doesn't mean he has to face it.

“I think you are,” you whispered to his ear, causing him to relax visibly, it was rather pathetic how quickly your admission of yours made his cock fucking hard, harder than before. Your pussy continues to grind against his thigh, your hips rolling at a relaxed pace as you coat his skin in your juices. “You’re perfect in every sense of the word,” you praised him, your lips set on creating multiple shades of mark on his shoulder and collarbone.

He didn't need your words, he didn't know your praises yet a groan escaped his lips. His breath is heavier than before as your grinding gets faster. “Let me see you,” he whispered, and you wanted to deny him. You did but you knew he wanted to know if you were lying, manipulating him in any manner and you weren't cruel enough to play that game with him. You took off the blindfold from his eyes and the vulnerability that showed in his blue eyes made you so wet, your pussy clenching around nothing and he could feel the spasm on his thigh.

His eyes search yours for a hint of a lie, he doesn't find any. Both of your lips met for a kiss, knocking us breathless as you wrapped your arms around his neck and began to roll your hips faster on his thigh, getting close to a high. Meanwhile, his cock was leaking onto his abs, thick goops of pre-cum that you swipe on your fingertips and lick as you don't give any attention to his length. A sound you couldn't classify leaves Coriolanus's lips as he watches you taste himself.

It felt perfect, you teasing him like this. You are in control, despite Coriolanus' not-so-subtle attempts to get rid of the knot that tied his hands together. ‘I am in control, love,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue instead and sucked on the sweet spot of his jaw. “Wanna sit on your face,” you whispered to him.

“Fuck, fuck, dove” he cursed before he nods. You maneuver him into the position, your cunt mere inches from his greedy mouth that had already started teasing your folds with kitten licks that you mewling with need. “Coryo,” you whispered, pleading to be completely honest as you lowered yourself down onto his face. His tied arms above his head, your fingers laced with his (the safe word being three squeezes if you end up suffocating him). Your pussy finally reached its destination, finding his lips and his tongue. The slaughter of your sanity had begun.

He was so messy with this, it surprised your soul. His licks weren't long and calculated per usual but short, teasing like that had you bucking your hips onto his face. You try to be careful, you swear you do but all was lost in your hazy pleasure. You moan his name, again and again, and Coriolanus gets high off it. The power you hand him without realizing, the control you give him of your pleasure.

“Coryo!” you cry out, your movements getting fervent. You were close to snapping from riding his thigh, from the high and adrenaline of the situation. It wasn't hard to shatter, your cunt gushing out juices as your walls began to spasm. The orgasm turns your bones into jelly but you have work to do. You have shattered but you yet hadn't broken Snow.

Coryo hums against your folds, licking all the juices up, nipping and kissing your clit with such attention, it sends shivers down your spine. You pulled yourself off of his face, and your pussy begins to ache again because of how debauched he looks. His mouth gasping, his face shining with your arousal all over his chin, beads of your juices dripping down his skin. You closed your eyes, getting your senses back to you.

You let out a shaky breath yourself and you bring him back to a sitting position, one of your hands on his nape and another finding his cock. He lets out a groan of relief and pleasure as you squeeze his girth with your fist. You stroke his cock several times and coat his length with his pre-cum. “Gonna ride you, baby,” you whispered to him, your lips meeting his, and you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself.

You placed yourself on his lap, one of your hands going to his tied wrists, playing with the knots unaware that a lot of it has come loose. You don't even realize it as you were too busy sinking on his cock, your other hand in his hair, gripping the blonde curls rather roughly.

Coryo leans forward, pushing his face between your breasts, his tongue licking stripes of your salty skin and his teeth digging into the sides of your supple flesh making you let out a sharp moan. Your hold on his hair gets tighter, as you adjust to his twitching length inside of your sensitive walls. His lips catch the pendant, the only thing you are still wearing. You look down to watch him suck the ‘S’ in his mouth and you whimper from the sight, your pussy clenching around his cock.

By now your fiddling with his tied wrists had completely untied the knots, something you didn't realize as you became drunk on him. You place your head on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips. Snow lets you control the pace, not letting you know he is free of his bounds. He takes and takes whatever you give him even as his balls tighten with the urge to come. He bites his lower lip to stave off the urge. Second by second, minute by minute passes as your bodies get hotter and hotter, waiting to burn the brightest.

“Coryo,” you begin to whisper, “You're mine, right?” This time the insecurity in your voice was clear, something that would make you cringe later. This time Coriolanus takes control.

His hands find themselves kneading the flesh of your hips, stopping you from fucking yourself on his cock. You freeze in surprise, your eyes widening. “It’s our wedding ring I wear every day. If that doesn't hold any value to you. Don't you dare ask me that question again?”

“Now fucking cum on my cock, pet,” he said, his eyes turning into snake-like slits, “Don't think I'll forget of your behavior tonight, baby.” You swallow nervously, but Coryo says he is yours, not in those exact words but it was Coryo, he was never known for straight words anyway.

You begin to ride him again, picking up pace as you keep slamming down on his cock, his cockhead kissing your cervix from this position. Your hands go to his shoulder to use as leverage as you continue to fuck yourself on him. “My love,” you moan as you felt yourself getting close over the edge, from how his dick was throbbing inside your cunt, you could tell he was close too. He wedges a hand between the both of your connecting bodies and his fingers find your puffy oversensitive clit and he begins to play with the bud making you cry out.

“That's it, dove,” he whispered, smirking, “Cum on my cock, you're the only one in this entire universe with that privilege.” You whimper, feeling your pussy spasm on his cock repeatedly as all the tension leaves your body. He shallowly thrusts into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

You turn into jelly on his lap, your cunt twitching occasionally from oversensitivity. He turns you over so you are laid down on the bed, and he hooks up your legs on his shoulders.

He leans down, his hand gripping your jaw as his lips brush against yours and he says, “Time for your punishment, doll. You had your chance to indulge, my pet. It's my turn now.”

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived

[sailorrhansol]

You. Always. | ksy (m)

❀ Pairing: Soonyoung x f. Reader 

❀ Summary: Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him? 

❀ Word Count: 5055

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, pwp

❀ Type: Smut, a little fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Almost jealous Soonyoung, a little hint of insecurity but nothing crazy, recreational drinking, Mingyu and Wonwoo lowkey being a little annoying and drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, pet names like baby and good boy, reader on top, spit and other bodily fluids, not explicit dom/sub dynamics but Soonyoung is very soft in this and reader is guiding him in parts, biting, both reader and Soonyoung are a little dazed and kinda spacy but it’s not explicitly subspace or described in the same way. 

❀ A/N: This is straight up from a dream I had, no joke. Woke up and was like I just had the weirdest dream about Soonyoung but it was in the Bahamas and a cruise ship was involved at some point but this is almost scene for scene from my dream. I feel blessed. 

❀ A/N 2: This was written entirely for @daechwitatamic and also thank you Jo for beta reading because I don’t know how to edit anything ever I’m baby

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

“Try this one,” Mingyu insists, laughing. He shoves a drink in your hand, all smiles and glittering eyes. You take the cup from him, the music of the club pulsing around you. A soft buzz ripples through you, a little drunk from the long day out in the sun followed by drinks at sunset, dinner and the afterparty. “It’s soooo good.” 

You trust Mingyu’s judgment - about drinks, anyway. Wonwoo cheers for you, clapping to the beat of the music as you bring the cup to your lips and knock it back. The soda mixed in the drink bubbles in the back of your throat but the taste of something strong burns and you cough, pulling the cup from your mouth with a grimace and squinted eyes.

Both of them begin laughing hysterically, throwing back their hands and clapping their hands. You laugh too, setting the cup down as you try and clear your throat from the liquid fire, tongue stuck out as you reach for a sweating glass of water. 

Wonwoo orders more drinks as you suck down water, freeing your mouth of the bitter taste of whatever it is they gave you. You turn on the stool, looking around the beachside club for Soonyoung. You catch him on the far side leaning against a wall, waiting for the bathroom. Sensing your gaze, he cranes his neck to look toward you, eyes pinning you to the spot immediately. 

Even from across the room, his gaze makes your stomach flip. You grin shyly, waving your hand a little. His lips twitch but his gaze shifts toward Mingyu and Wonwoo. His mouth tilts down a little before the bathroom door opens and he turns away entirely, vanishing down the hall. 

A server appears with a round of clear shots, setting them down on the table. Mingyu leans forward, picking one up with the intention of handing it to you, but you wave him off. “I’ll wait for Soonyoung.” 

Mingyu cranes his head. “Yeah, where the fuck did he go? I kind of forgot he was here.”

It isn’t Mingyu’s fault - he hasn’t known you for very long. Soonyoung has a habit of making friends anywhere the two of you go on vacation, though, and through the last week, you’ve managed to make Wonwoo and Mingyu regular friends while enjoying the summer off the coast of Greece. It had started with a volleyball game and now it has escalated to lunches, dinners and nightly escapades. 

Ever the talker - much like your boyfriend - Mingyu turns to the table next to yours and strikes up a conversation with the group of people there. Within a few minutes, he’s pulling their table to yours and shouting their names at you. You shake unfamiliar hands and grin, just happy to feel the balmy air on your skin and feel the heat of summer. 

Another round of drinks appears in clear, plastic cups, obeying the no glass on the beach rule. The beach club is lowkey and tucked away into the side of the mountain at the very end of the beach, requiring a trek through the sand to get there.

The area is open to the elements with wooden pavilions housing a few tables and benches. In the middle of the club is a long, illuminated shallow pool with tables for guests who are willing to take off their shoes and wade through the cool water to get there. 

You look down at the red drink in your hand, raising a brow as you watch everyone else throw the drink back, chugging as quickly as they can. When they put their cups down and realize you haven’t had yours, they immediately start yelling at you, Mingyu grabbing your forearm to shake you back and forth as he pouts and yells at you to chug.

“I’m gonna get too drunk,” you whine, holding onto the cup and trying not to spill the liquid as Mingyu complains. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes, clasping his hands together as he begs. Wonwoo and your new friends immediately join him, all of them peering up at you. 

“Please,” Wonwoo pleads from across the table, clasped hands tucked under his chin. “Please please please please.”

Before you can tip the cup back, it’s being pulled upward and out of your grip. You look up in surprise, mouth falling open as Soonyoung frees it from your grasp and tilts the cup to his lips. You watch as he drains it, head tilted back to expose the tan softness of his throat. Some of the red spills over the side, running down his chin and throat. 

You watch the beads of liquid, suddenly unable to focus on anything else but the way he looks in that moment. When you blink, Soonyoung’s head is no longer tilted as he leans forward to place the empty cup on the table. He doesn’t bother to wipe the red on his neck and you instinctively grab napkins as he throws himself in the booth across from you. 

He notices you holding them out and he takes them wordlessly, his energy shifted suddenly as he wipes the sticky red from his skin. If your new friends notice, they don’t say anything, cheering for him and then ordering more drinks as they shout over the music. 

When he left to use the restroom, your boyfriend had been in high spirits and a rowdy mood. Now, he’s subdued, eyes flickering between Wonwoo and Mingyu, a little darker than before. You frown, finishing the rest of your water as you drink in Soonyoung’s posture: slouched, mouth pouted, eyes narrowed.

Mingyu asks if you want another drink and you watch as Soonyoung’s mouth turns down. Ah. You decline and immediately Mingyu makes Soonyoung the same offer, but he shakes his head, suddenly interested in his phone. You think Mingyu notices this time that one of your party is clearly no longer in the drinking mood and disengages, turning easily to the others.

You nudge Soonyoung’s foot under the table. He looks up at you, a little dejected and shrugs his shoulders as if to say what? You nod your head toward the exit, raising your brows. He follows your meaning  and pauses for a moment, as though he’s torn between ending the night far earlier than usual or trying to endure his mood. 

Eventually, he nods, turning off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. You stand and announce that you’re feeling a little tired, but thank your friends for the drinks. They all immediately complain, begging you to stay for at least one more round.

“It’s always one more round with you all,” you shoot back. “We can catch up another day. I’m tired and honestly I really just want to lay in bed with my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu huffs, waving you off. “Do whatever it is couples do on vacation.”

Without a word, you hold your hand out to Soonyoung to leave. He stares at it for a moment before his mouth twitches upward and he takes it, lacing his fingers with yours. You give him a gentle squeeze as you lead toward the exit of the club, waving to the manager who is used to your group’s presence by now. 

Outside, the world is only lit by the moon. It sits high up in the sky, turning the world a dark blue as you and Soonyoung walk the beach. The quiet tension follows him outside of the club and down a few meters. You wait for him to say something, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.

In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve learned to read him pretty well. You know something about your interaction with Mingyu and Wonwoo bothers him, but you’re unsure of the specifics. Soonyoung isn’t a jealous boyfriend, but every once in a while there is something that bothers him. An old wound that peels open at the edge and stings him. 

You tug on his hand. He’s surprised, stumbling a little as you yank him off balance and into you. His cologne is laced with his own natural scent, making your head spin as your chests press together and you bring a hand up to his face, stroking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. 

Soonyoung is beautiful. You’ve always thought so. Eyes that can go from intense to gentle, a round face that is somehow also sharp, a cute mouth prone to laughing. You’ve traced the lines of his face over and over again and still, every time you’re this close to him, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

“You’re not jealous, right?” 

He shakes his head imperceptibly. He looks down at you, bottom lip jutting out a bit. You fight a smile, trying to focus on making sure he’s okay instead of the way his face has melted from contemplative to pouting. 

“You can tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable, you know that right?” 

He nods in tiny. His hands hang at his sides, like he’s hesitant to touch you. To do anything. You take his face in both of your hands, cocking your head to the side as you study him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s bothering you?”

“I’m not jealous,” he starts and stops. You wait for him to continue. You’ve always been better at putting your thoughts to words than he has, and you know he just needs the time to organize them. “And you never do things that make me jealous. I just…” 

Ocean water surges behind you, the gentle push and pull of the swells the only sound as Soonyoung strings his thoughts together. You continue to cradle his face in your hands, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch, going a little weak under your attention. 

“I just know how easy it is to love you,” he finally says. He chews his bottom lip a little and you catch it with your thumb, keeping him from breaking the skin. “You are beautiful and charming, and I can always tell when other people realize it too. It isn’t that… I think you’d like them back or anything. I just feel possessive and then silly for feeling that way.” 

“It isn’t silly.”

“It isn’t?” 

You shake your head and his voice gets small and soft. “I don’t want it to seem insecure or annoying, and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I usually don't.”

“It’s not silly,” you assure him again. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. You’re a human being and you’re allowed to feel things, even if you don’t necessarily know why or how you feel them.” 

“I’m sorry I made us leave early.”

“You didn’t make us do anything, and there is nothing to apologize for. I like going home and just spending time with you. I came here with you. We can make vacation friends all we want, but I have the most fun when you’re involved.”

His mouth twitches in a smile and he nods a little, affirmed by your words. “Can we go home?” 

“Mhmm.”

You lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth. Immediately he wants more, chasing your lips but you skip away from him, tugging him along by his hand. He frowns, a little put out. You try not to giggle, feeling your stomach flip a little. 

Soonyoung is so rare like this. He loves being soft, but this is something even gentler. Something delicate and wonderful and endearing. You can’t help but keep him trailing after you, feeling the way his eyes linger on you. Hungry. Wanting. Needing. 

You keep him waiting. 

Catching a taxi up the mountain to the house you’re staying at is easy. The driver rolls the window down, letting the salty air drift in as he goes up and up. You lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder, putting your entwined hands in your lap. He melts into you, head atop yours and eyes fluttering shut as the breeze lifts his hair. 

You love him like this. He looks so young, so capable of love. It’s your favorite thing about him, his ability to love freely, deeply and often. There is so much affection and kindness in him, a well so deep that you have yet to hit the bottom. 

Soonyoung is a little drowsy when the taxi pulls up to the village square. He rouses with a mumbled thank you and clambours out the car behind you, eager to follow your lead up the winding steps that lead through the village houses.

It’s mostly quiet, with the echoes of voices drifting up from open windows and patios, the din of voices from restaurants in the main square hanging on the wind. You manage not to get lost this time as you navigate the winding pathways to the correct house, the blue fence blending in with the dozen other blue fences. 

The cicadas are quiet as you walk down the steps to the front of the home. You tap Soonyoung’s pockets and he blushes, forgetting he has the keys. He’s quick to produce them and pass them over, watching you expectantly as you unlock it and step into the darkness. 

Cool air drifts in from the open windows. There’s no air conditioning in the rented house, but the ocean wind that comes in at night through open shutters is enough to cool you off. 

Soonyoung is quiet. He follows your lead up the stairs to the second floor where the bedroom is, lingering in the doorway when you drop his hand and turn to face him as you walk backward into the room. He’s hypnotized as you unbutton the top of your shirt slowly, staring at him. 

The way he looks at you ignites a fire inside of you. No one else could look at you like this, equal parts reverence and hunger. No one else could make your hands shake as you stare at him staring at you, his lips parted a little, tongue darting out to wet them as he swallows. 

Your blouse falls open and you shuck it off, letting it hit the floor. Moonlight paints your side profile. Soonyoung doesn’t dare move from the door until you hold out a hand, palm upward. “Come here,” you whisper. He obeys immediately, nearly tripping over his feet to get to you. 

His hands go around your waist, warm against your skin. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, fingers threading in his hair and pulling a little. He lets out a soft sound as you tilt his face toward yours, forcing him to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown and you can feel his heart thundering against yours. 

“You know I love you more than anything else, right?” For a second, he just stares at you, eyes fixated on your mouth. You pull his hair a little more and he sucks in a sharp breath before nodding a little. He seems too dazed to do more than the barest acknowledgement. “Do you want me to show you?” 

You lean up to brush your nose against his. Soonyoung’s eyes fall shut and you feel a shiver go through him. His breath is unsteady when you brush your mouth against his in an almost kiss. “Do you want me to show you how much I love you, Soonyoung?” 

He nods again, unable to find words. Your nails scratch at his scalp gently and he lets out a breathy moan, melting in your hands. “Okay,” you whisper, pressty a soft kiss to his mouth. He tries to chase your lips again but you step back and tug at him. “Come lay down.” 

Soonyoung obeys. He’s always been a good boy, but having him like this isn’t common. You like to think that you’re both equal parts in charge in the bedroom, flowing with whatever the other needs. Having him like this, sitting down on the bed and looking up at you like you cradle his world in your hands though… it lights you up. 

“Lay back for me,” you instruct gently. He does immediately, bouncing a little on the mattress. You climb onto the mattress, knees on either side of his waist as you crawl up toward him, settling your weight on his hips. Immediately his hands reach toward your hips and stop, hovering as he gets stuck between doing what he wants and waiting for you to tell him. “Go ahead,” you whisper, leaning toward him. “Take whatever you want. You can have whatever.” 

Warm hands grip your waist. Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of his shirt and you make sure to brush them against his stomach as you move upward. You feel the muscles jump and he lets out another breathy sound. His hands just remain on your sides, not ready to explore more as he fixates on the way you pull his shirt off of his shoulders.

He’s a little clumsy when he leans up to help you shuck it off. You don’t care, surging forward to capture his mouth in a full kiss as he does. He forgets all about taking the shirt off, sleeves halfway down his arms as he leans forward to lick into your mouth, hungry and desperate for whatever you’ll give him.

You don’t hold back, letting him consume you. His mouth is warm and wet, tasting faintly of cherry from one of the drinks he had earlier. You love it, humming delightly as your hands brush from his shoulders to where his shirt is stuck near the elbows. You tug but the material is restricted, making you break away from the kiss with a laugh. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting your hips go to take the shirt all the way off. 

Immediately your hands seek the heat of his skin, brushing from his shoulders to his chest and down his stomach and back up, fingers loving every groove and plane. He shivers under your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, pushing him back gently so that he’s laying down again. He lets you trace him, though you can feel his hips twitch under you, turned on by your exploration. “So pretty, Soonyoung. Do you know that?” 

Again, he gives the tiniest nod. You smile and lean forward, holding yourself up by planting a hand on either side of his head. You catch his mouth again and he lifts his head up, eager to taste you. A hum of appreciation escapes you as you kiss him slowly, pressing your hips down into his. 

Soonyoung moans and it’s so delicate that it makes you dizzy. You feel fucked out from this version of him already, the room spinning as you rut gently into him. You grab his hands that rest on your ass and pull them up your sides to your bra, a command. 

He understands immediately, pulling at the clasps to undo the back. You break the kiss again, mouth feeling bruised, to lean up and toss the garment. His hands find your chest immediately and you feel goosebumps burst on your skin at his touch, large hand squeezing. 

You let him rub his thumb over your pert nipples, spiking the pleasure in your stomach. You let out a light sound and shiver in his hands, ducking back down to press your mouth to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin - anywhere you can kiss. 

His skin is salty and sweet, your tongue darting out to soothe his flesh after a sharp bite. He’s putty beneath you, completely at your mercy as your mouth maps out the way you love him. Every kiss, bite and lick is another declaration: I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Light moans drip from his lips as you pepper him with kisses. Dragging your teeth across his chest lightly, you watch as he shivers and squeezes his eyes shut. Grinning, you move your mouth over his nipple, tongue flicking out lightly. A sharp hiss escapes through his gritted teeth, his head digging backward into the bed as he arches under you. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. 

A hum escapes you as you close your mouth over his nipple, sucking gently. He’s so sensitive, whining and squeezing your sides. You trail your mouth across his chest, leaving a wet trail as you do before dragging your teeth across his other nipple. 

“Pretty,” you mumble again, moving your mouth lower. You teeth at his skin as you go, feeling him twitch beneath you. His hands drop to the sheet, twisting them in a vice grip as he lets you scoot down his lap until you’re off the bed and on the carpet, undoing his pants as you go. 

Getting him out of his pants is hard - Soonyoung is loose-limbed and clumsy, hands shaking as he helps you pull the fabric down followed by his briefs. You let out an appreciative moan when you take his cock in your hand, heavy, warm and leaking at the tip. 

He can barely keep it together when you stroke him, hand firm, thumb brushing over the sticky tip. You watch every reaction, eyes focused on the flush in his cheeks, the way he chews on his bottom lip to try and keep from whimpering, the way his fingers twist in the blankets. 

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his inner thighs as you continue to work him with your hand. His hips twitch upward and you let him, continuing to run your tongue along his thigh. “You’re the perfect boyfriend.” 

“Hnnn,” is the mumbled answer. 

Leaning up high on your knees, you tilt his cock toward your mouth, licking leisurely around the tip. He keens and you smirk, feeling your cunt clench as you take him in your mouth properly, spurred on by the way he falls apart instantly. 

This is another thing you love. It doesn’t matter the dynamic, Soonyoung always crumbles at your touch - craves it, needs it, wants it more than anything. It’s hard not to feel like a god as you hear him pant your name, watch the way the breath catches in his throat as you take him deep into your throat, the flat of your tongue scraping the underside of his cock as you go. 

You’re not clean with it. You let spit drip out the corner of your mouth, let yourself gag a little. Work what you can’t fit past your lips with the rest of your hand, getting carried away. His hand shoots to your head - he doesn’t push or pull, just leaves it there, like it can ground him.

Pulling off with a loud pop, you give his shaft a squeeze, kissing the inside of his thigh again. A mix of cum and spit shine in the moonlight when you pull your mouth away. 

“I love seeing you like this,” you rasp. “Love watching you fall apart.”

“Please,” he gasps, managing to lift his head up and look down at you. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are fucked out, gaze unfocused. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.”

“I’ve got you.” You give a single, long lick up his shaft for good measure, feeling him tremble before you stand up to take your pants off. He makes a pitiful sound, hand shooting toward you, hating being away from you. “One second, baby. Sorry.” 

“S’okay.” 

Naked, you crawl up the bed again. His hands shoot to your thighs, kneading the flesh and rubbing his palms up and down, warming you up. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, worked up from working him up. From the way he moans when you press your pussy to his cock, you know he can feel it. 

“All good?” you ask gently, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You hold yourself over him with one hand and bring the other up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Too much?”

He shakes his head. “No, just. Sensitive.”

“Mhmm. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”He nods in tiny, opening his eyes to look up at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. “Good boy,” you breathe and he moans, hips canting upward to rub his cock against your folds. “I love you.”

He nods again, eager and desperate. “Love you.”

Sitting up on your knees, you reach a hand under you, gripping him firmly. Soonyoung opens his eyes, making sure to watch your every move with swollen, parted lips and half-lidded eyes. You feel drunk from the way he looks at you, as hypnotized by him as he is of you.

You press the tip of his cock against your entrance, both of you groaning. Carefully, you sink down on him, your breath getting stuck in your throat. The stretch punches the breath from your lungs but it’s good, the ache replaced with something stronger, better. He fills up every part of you - you feel him deep in your stomach as you fully seat yourself on him, ass pressed to his pelvis as you fight for air. 

“Fuck, Soonyoung,” you mutter, falling forward to plant a hand on his chest. You lean your weight forward, pushing him into the mattress and holding yourself up. You can feel his thundering heart under your palm, beat matching your own pounding pulse. “Feel so good.”

“Wanna be. Wanna be for you.”

“You are. You always are. I could never want anything else, you know that right?” A tiny, barely there nod. “You make me feel so good. Always do.” 

“Please.”

You know what he’s asking. You give it to him, slowly lifting yourself until you’ve almost pulled off him entirely. You drop back down hard, knocking the breath from your lungs as you spear yourself on him. It is intoxicatingly good, pleasure rippling outward like a stone dropped in a lake. You chase the feel, repeating the motion until you’re nearly mindless and out of breath. 

“Shit,” you swear, laughing a little as your head drops down. You can’t focus on anything but rolling your hips, fucking yourself onto him as his hands grab your ass, not controlling you but gripping fiercely. “God damn fuck.”

Soonyoung laughs, deep and gravely as the cockiness you’re used to bleeds back in for a moment. “Yeah?”

You clench your cunt as you sink down on him, making him let out a high-pitched noise at the move and you grin. “Yeah,” you shoot back. “Thought so.” 

A knot twists in your stomach as you set a smooth pace, thighs burning. Pleasure ribbons through you, twisting and turning, his hands dimpling your flesh. He lets you keep your pace at first, taking everything you give him, his feet planted flat on the mattress as he tries to contain himself, curses escaping between clenched teeth.

Your legs tremble. Your nails dig into the hard muscle of his chest. He senses your movements get a little strained, the pleasure making it harder to focus on lifting yourself. You feel his grip on your ass change, Soonyoung putting power behind it to help lift you up and pull you back down. He thrusts up to meet you, the wet squelch of his harder thrusts intoxicating. 

“Fuck yeah,” you gasp, giving up the pretense of riding him and letting him take over. “Fuck me just like that.” 

It’s all he needs before his grip turns iron and he’s fucking up into you with abandon. Your hand slips on his chest as the power of his thrusts knock you off balance. You let yourself crash together, chest against chest. Soonyoung wraps his arms around your back, holding you to him. 

Your mouth finds his neck, burying your face in there as you try to steady your breathing. It feels like your heart might explode, his name falling from your lips as you press them against his neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, pace picking up. 

“Shit,” you pant. “Shit shit shit shit - Soonyoung - shit.” 

He huffs, something like laughter before his pace is brutal. He fucks you fast and deep, your mind blanking as you crest upward. All you can do is hold on to him, mouth panting against his throat, your muscles squeeze squeeze squeezing until you’re coming hard. 

Everything goes blank. Your ears ring and you’re vaguely aware of his wild thrusts as he chases his orgasm. You melt in his grip, letting him use you, completely boneless. 

Soonyoung growls your name as he comes, pace slowing as he fucks you deep until he stills. You feel the stickiness between you and the way he’s still shaking. You rise and fall with his heavy breathing, both of your heartbeats erratic and thoughts staticky. 

You lay there like that for a while, a pile of exhausted limbs and few thoughts. His arms loosen their grip around you and he starts rubbing his hands up and down your back. It draws you back into the moment more and you open your eyes to look up at him. 

Soonyoung’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep. You can tell he isn’t asleep, but rather enjoying the moment, his face tilted toward the window where the moon floats over the mountains. He looks so pretty like this, face soft and serene. 

“You’re staring at me,” he murmurs, his voice low and spent. “You could at least tell me I’m pretty.”

“I just did. Several times.”

His mouth tilts upward but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I like hearing it.”

“Fine. You’re the prettiest boy.” 

“Hmm. Yeah?”

“Yes. And I love you.”

“Say it again.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and they meet yours. They’re clearer now, and crinkled at the sides when he gives you a smile that feels far too innocent for the fluids running down your thighs and the way your cunt still clenches around him. “I like when you say it.”

“I love you.” 

He smirks. “Just me?”

You lean up and nip his neck. He giggles, leaning away from you. “You. Always.” 

He sighs. “Me,” he agrees. “Always.” 

-

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@jespecially @asyre

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[ackermans-angel]

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND!GOJO SATORU | FIC RECS

A/N: Been obsessed with the Brother's Best Friend trope recently, specifically regarding Satoru, and I really wanted to share my favorite fics created by the amazing writers listed below. ALSO I wanted to do this because I haven't made one of these recommendation lists in awhile, and I love to do them number one to help promote the writers I love, and number two because when I find a trope I love with a character I wish I had a list like this to just find fics instantly LMAOOO. PLEASE feel free to recommend me your favorite brother's best friend fics if you know anymore and FEEL FREE to send me an ask at anytime if you're searching for fics of a certain trope I'd be happy to make more lists. Now enough of my yapping, I got ahead of myself and I'm posting this now but I'll update as I find more fics.

WARNING: I WON’T BE MORE CLEAR ON THIS! If you proceed to these accounts make sure to look at the rules and warnings. please respect the account owner, as most of them don’t want people under 18 on them. ALWAYS READ WARNINGS ON FICS TO INSURE YOU ARE RESPECTING THE WRITERS GUIDELINES!!!

One more thing! IF YOU LIKE A FIC PLEASE REBLOG NO MATTER THE ACCOUNT! The easiest way to show a creator you care and that their work is being appreciated is to reblog reblog reblog! They spend hours of their time creating work FOR US. The least we can do is REBLOG!

accounts under the cut. (last updated January 4th, 2024.)

IF IT’S ONLY A TOUCH…AITA? by @tteokdoroki This one is so good and the most recent one I read. It's the perfect amount of angst and smut. It does have some descriptions of the reader having braids, darker skin, and brown eyes so if you don't like when it's not vague about how the reader looks then this is probably not for you. However, those descriptions do not match me at all and I didn't have a problem while reading at all. I think you should definitely give it a read if you like the brother best friend trope!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND by @cptnleviackerman This one was so good for it only having so few notes. definitely go hype this one up because it deserves it. Read the tags before you continue on though because some of the themes could be triggering! Other then that this one was super good.

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO FUCK YOUR BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND? (FOUR WHOLE DAYS) by @saetoru SOOO GOOD. I love this fic so please go check this one out!

CRYBABY. by @ieirism AHHHH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE. This one was soooooo goood. It is really fluffy and has so much sweet satoru. love love love.

TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT ME by @awearywritersworld I completely forgot about this one but from what I can remember it was really sweet. All angst and fluff and omg their dynamic after sugurus death is just so sweet.

YOUNGER BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND GOJO by @satocidal this is just a little drabble but the smut>>>>> that's all I have to say. go read!!

[bby-deerling]

Idk if you're taking requests right now, but I saw you wanted to write the sex pollen or one bed trope. I am a SUCKER for both of those!!!!! I would totally be down with either or both of these with Law!

oh anon you know i just had to combine them >:^) !!!!

i went absolutely feral writing this so i hope you enjoy!

spin circles for me (law x reader nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 3.0k masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, slapping, rough sex, sex pollen and all that entails, law is kind of an asshole, law is also a bit feral, choking, biting, semi-public fooling around, creampie, mentions of blood, evil sex, one bed trope

tagging: @bowsa-jr @eelnoise @freelemmingsdownload @kaizokuniichan @wolfegoddess

“And…that’s all folks!  Everyone should have their room keys.” Shachi exclaims, hands visibly empty.  A pit opens up in your stomach as you feel your heart drop like a roller coaster—everyone had their room assignments for the night, save for you, whose name wasn’t called.  Face red as your anxiety brews, you step forward towards your crewmate and tap him on the shoulder.

“Shachi, I didn’t hear my name; who am I rooming with?” you ask, puzzled and hoping you had simply tuned out your name when he called it; Law was taking care of sorting the bill out with the innkeeper, and the last thing you wanted to do was pile more undue stress onto your captain.

Curly chestnut hair hangs in his face as he scans the list he made one more time, mumbling each crew member’s name under his lips as he counts.  Eyes widening as he reaches the end of the list without muttering yours, he checks again, face slowly turning white.

“Captain, we’ve got a problem.” Shachi says as he strides towards Law, carrying a slight sense of worry in his voice; realistically it wasn’t the end of the world, but when Law is in a snit, the slightest mistakes can lead to a snarky dressing down in front of the rest of the crew.  Tired and exhausted, Law doesn’t answer Shachi verbally, and simply gives him a look that tells him to continue.  “I messed up the room arrangements.  I forgot to assign her to a room.” he explains, motioning towards you with his thumb.

“Put her with Ikkaku then.  Do I really have to hold your hand like this, Shachi?” Law says, rolling his eyes with a huff as he starts to walk away; your crewmate’s hand on his shoulder pulls him back and prevents him from getting too far away.

"That’s the thing Captain, all the rooms have twin beds except for yours…” he says voice laced with trepidation as his words trail off.  Chewing the inside of your cheek, you watch Law carefully as he makes eye contact with you for the briefest of moments, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Fine.” he sighs, too exhausted to even bother reaming Shachi out for his mistake.  Instead, Law glares at him, causing your crewmate to simply smirk at him before running off towards Penguin.

“Don’t expect me to sleep on the floor.  We’re more than capable of being adults.” he warns in a hushed tone that edges on the side of being unnecessarily harsh.

“Of course, Captain.” you reply, stare fixed at the floorboard beneath you as you followed him to your room.  His exasperation had seemingly no end, causing you to preemptively walk on eggshells to avoid being the target of his scorn.

A slightly irritated huff escapes your lips as you let your bag hit the floor of the run-down hotel room.  An opportunity to spend more time with Law like this would be heaven sent under normal circumstances, but his mood lately was nothing short of foul, and he had been short not only with you, but with everyone around him for the past week or so.  Truthfully, being alone with him left you brimming with anxiety; you had been slowly and steadily building a deep bond with him prior to this nasty mood swing, and something intangible swirling in your gut spurred the notion that his mood was somehow your fault.

As you head to the restroom and change into some plainclothes, you run through a list of possible transgressions; perhaps the time you patted his shoulder reassuringly had been crossing the line, or maybe he had noticed the way your eyes soften, gazing at him when you were convinced his eyes were focused elsewhere.  Law is rarely one to miss details or subtleties; in retrospect, one would be a fool to think he wouldn’t catch you staring.  Whether your behavior was the cause of his irritability or not, one thing was certain—he had been avoiding contact with you as much as possible since this snit started, leaving you lonely.  Rituals you had built with him—taking your morning coffee and tea together, sitting next to each other at lunch, and reading together in the evenings—had all come to a crashing halt with no explanation, leaving you with an empty chasm in your chest, left to wonder what you did to spur this sudden abandonment; however, even if it were possible to track down Law to for a private conversation, you were too nonconfrontational to inquire what your grave misstep had been.

“Need a walk to clear my head.  Coming with?” he asks gruffly, momentarily removing his bucket hat to comb his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.  His words break you from your daze, and you nod affirmatively and give him a vocal mhm, lacing up your worn-out sneakers in the process.  Though he was touchy at the moment, there was no resisting his bid for attention, especially when a hint of softness in his tone makes his words feel like a request for your presence.  Law was complicated, and at times unbearable, but as far as you were concerned, he was beyond reproach, for the simple fact that you cared far too much for him.

The rocky atmosphere softens as you walk towards the nearby trail together, afternoon breeze filling your lungs with tranquility and turning the tension between you into a comfortable silence.  The two of you venture roughly a mile into the woods before being met with a roadblock—a wall of flowering vines preventing further progression down the trail.  Slightly annoyed, Law unsheathes his sword, hacking at the plants, only to be met with a haze of dust and pollen in the air; instinctively, you pull your shirt over your nose to prevent inhaling it, but your captain is not so lucky, and ends up breathing in a fair amount before sneezing.

Frustrated at the endlessly dense cluster of vines and flowers still remaining in front of you, your captain makes the executive decision to turn back, and you follow accordingly, sighing softly in frustration that your walk together was cut shorter than planned—that is, until Law starts acting weird.

It started with the staring.

The penetrating gaze fixed on your form only feeds into your paranoia, assuring you that there was something wrong between the two of you that had been leading him to behave strangely as of late.  Then his right arm begins to swing more freely, almost aimlessly; the contrast of the motion compared to Law’s normally composed nature made the way his hand carelessly swung seem downright silly—and then it starts to brush against you.  He’s simply tired, you tell yourself.  A simple mistake. 

And then blood pools in your cheeks as he pokes your side, almost playfully, emulating the cocky, laidback Law you've come to know and adore.  It’s intentional, and impossible to ignore; you return the favor in kind and flash him a grin.  You expect a similar expression to be mirrored on his face—a smirk with a glint of mischief in his eyes—but are frozen in place when the look he gives you is downright predatory, lust pooling in his eyes.

Suddenly aware of your surroundings, you find your back flush against a tree, and far closer to Law than you remember being before; completely absorbed in the delight of his subtle flirting, you had lost track of where you were, and subsequently had fallen into his grasp like a fly in a spider’s web.

“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” he whispers in your ear, leaning in close and ghosting his lips along the shell of your ear.  The trance he put you in was nearly dreamlike, all of his transgressions nearly forgotten as he feeds you the tantalizing promise of exchanging them for the touches you have been yearning for.

“Keep going.” you murmur, letting out a sharp gasp as his mouth immediately connects with your neck.  His teeth graze the column of your throat, eliciting sinful mewls from your pretty mouth; the song of lewd sounds echoes into the humid, sticky air, encouraging him to slip his hand underneath your shirt.

“I thought it wasn’t like that, hm?” he murmurs, voice husky as his hands roam your body, making you whimper as his thumb rolls across your nipple.  “Thought you didn’t like your Captain like that?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush with both arousal and embarrassment as pieces click into place in your mind—a little more than a week ago, Shachi and Penguin had confronted you about your little crush during a game of cards; unwilling to give in to pressure from them to spill your guts out, you had denied it with a pink blush covering your face.  A dreadful liar through and through, your crewmates refused to buy your fib for a second; however, judging by the way Law had echoed your own words back to you as his hands claim your body, he had taken your words at face value.  It was borderline hypocritical—he was a man who constantly veiled his true emotions, yet he was somehow unable to see through the wide cracks of a similar mask.

Fever broken, a storm of anger brews in your chest, and you want to smack him, to gain some type of retribution for the needless cold shoulder he had given you; however, the way his mouth heatedly slots against yours leaves you too dizzy to fully realize your intentions.  Instead, you end up lightly swatting his cheek, sighing against his lips.  In return, your eyes are blown wide in shock as his inked hand smacks you back, not terribly hard, but enough to make your heart nearly jump out of your chest as you gasp.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it now.” he growls, soothing the dull sting with the pad of his thumb as he harshly grips your face, squishing your cheeks together.  There’s something feral and desperate in his eyes as he scans every bit of your face for a sign of genuine resistance; even in his growing haze of delirium, he’s surprised to find a mixture of emotions on your face.  Pupils blown out in lust, you want him, but you’re frustrated, jaw clenched as you let out a deep exhale.

“You were being so mean to me, Law.  And for no reason—” you say, voice wavering as you become overwhelmed and desperately try to keep your head above water.  The flood of emotions from latent, seemingly unrequited feelings being returned was intense enough; the addition of a slew of heated and fevered sensations as the two of you get so physical so fast scrambles your brain and leaves you feeling bare and vulnerable.

Deep down, Law wants to explain himself, but as he succumbs more and more to his altered state of mind, he can only pull back and offer you a bargain.  “Let me make it up to you.” he pleas, making the remaining sane portions of his mind cringe at the way his voice drips with want.  It’s a pitiful replacement for a litany of apologies that he is too ill-equipped to deliver—doubly so when under the influence.  Nevertheless, he waits for your move, nearly drawing blood as he digs his nails into his palm, hand clenched into a fist as he fights the urges coursing through his veins.

When you move to kiss him, knocking his hat onto the ground and tangling your fingers into his hair, you mean to take a gamble and tease him with a sly, snarky remark, but he’s uncharacteristically needy and captures your mouth with his at the slightest hint of permission to continue.  He’s sloppy, desperate, and messier than you ever could have envisioned in your darkest, murkiest fantasies.  Back hitting rough bark, you feel swallowed whole as he presses his body flush against you, knee prodding between your thighs.  Law is impatient, more so than you have ever seen him as he plays with the waistband of your sweatpants before dipping his hand beneath your panties.

“This wet for me…God, you want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?” he murmurs against your lips as he slides two fingers past your folds.  Dragging his fingers along your spongy spot, he coaxes the only reply he cares about from you—sweet, strangled moans as he tries to make you understand, tries to make you feel a fraction of the desperate yearning and arousal he has for you, latent emotions only amplified by his current state.

As the sky darkens, losing the afterglow of a sunset neither of you caught, you became acutely aware that the two of you weren’t even that far from the inn, and most assuredly visible to any prying eyes gazing out their windows; however, Law’s focus is honed on your chest, leaving deep purple bites all over your sensitive skin.

“Law, people can see us.” you mumble, noticing the yellow haze from the windows casting over your bare chest.  Intoxicating as it was to be pressed against a tree, feeling the tips of his fingers tease your sweet spot as his tongue circles your nipple, you yank on his hair in a silent plea for him to move to your bedroom; the last thing you wanted your crewmates to see was your captain turning you into an incoherent mess.

As his fingers pull out of you, the light dances across his digits, illuminating the slick coating them with a tantalizing glint.  Grumbling something intelligible under his breath, he shoves his inked fingers past your lips, letting out a sigh as you obediently suck them, tongue dancing along his digits.  As your eyes flutter shut, pleased by tasting the gentle tang of your nectar, he teleports you into the bedroom; the privacy shields you from the curious eyes of others, but strips you bare for Law, leaving you subject to the dark whims brewing behind his intense stare.

He wastes no time making short work of your sweatpants, yanking them down before plunging his tattooed fingers back inside you, a deep sense of need imbedded in each motion of his hands.  Following his lead, you fling your shirt over your head, swallowing hard at the cool breeze from the cracked window grazing over your nipples, still wet from Law’s tongue running across them.  He gives you a feral grin as he stares down at you, satisfied at the sight and grasping one of your breasts with his free hand and pushes your back onto the bed—your shared bed.

“Such a good girl for me… such a good little slut for your captain.” he mumbles under his breath as he hovers over you, inked hand moving upward to grip your throat before his lips descend onto yours.  He’s needy, for both sensation and control as he frees his cock from his jeans and lines himself up with your soaking entrance; sinking his teeth into your lower lip as he sucks on the soft, plump, rosy skin, he finally indulges in the sweet bliss he’s been craving for ages.

It’s a consummation of an attachment too fragile to be subjected to the gridlock of matrimony, or anything remotely similar.  As he pushes into you, the ragged breaths against desperate lips are the only vows spoken, the only promise is for more.  Thrusting into you harder, he becomes too clouded by his high and too drunk on the ecstasy of having you underneath him that he loses himself completely.

Law means to take you whole.

Soft whines are all you can let out against his mouth as he bites and sucks hard on your lip, nearly drawing blood as he fucks you into the mattress relentlessly.  The way he takes you is rough, full of passion and choked back moans; as you grow slicker, arousal coating both of your thighs, he pushes into you deeper, making you see stars with each thrust of his cock.

Death.  Five of his fingers dig into your hip, while the other five wrap tightly around your throat.  Death.  You feel somewhere between the earth and the sky as he drowns you in his essence, and bleeds you of your life force.  Death.  He reaches his little death with a shudder of his hips, cold beads of sweat rolling from his forehead and dripping onto yours as he paints your walls white.

Rolling back into bed after cleaning yourself, uncertainty hangs in the air; swirling in trepidation, you feel like death.

“What does this mean, Law.” you whisper hesitantly, voice nearly fading away into the chorus of crickets chirping outside the slightly ajar window.

Still as a board and gaze fixed to the ceiling, he doesn’t tell you that the plant had influenced his behavior—besides, something in the distant tone of your voice told him that you were clever enough to have come to that conclusion on your own.  He doesn’t give you an apology for his recent rough and uncaring behavior; it was irrelevant to the question at hand—your real inquiry pertained to how he felt about you, while sober and lucid after working out a burst of frenzied passion.

“It means I want you to come closer.” he says, voice raspy as he sprawls his arm out, an invitation for you to settle into his side.  The way you sigh as you nuzzle into his chest expresses a littering of sentiments that you were too exhausted to express; starved for affection, you drape your arm across his inked chest and give him a light squeeze, and you hum in delight when he tightens his grasp on your shoulder in return.

“Thank you for having me.” you mumble—forgiving, bright, and as fragile and damaged inside as he is, you’re far too good for him, and Law wonders if you’re even slightly aware of it.

Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to find the words to tell you what you’re truly worth; selfishly, he doesn’t even try to cobble them together.

He can’t take the chance of losing you now, after all—not when he finally has you.

[1-800-c3dr1c]

hiii, i have a request if they're openn

for luke castellan, a smut. he finds reader riding his pillow and mayne punish her? and he's a mean!dom

LUKE CASTELLAN SMUT ONESHOT.

submissive! reader. dominant! luke castellan. mean! luke castellan. female reader. reader is shorter than luke. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). pillow humping/riding. unprotected sex. overstimulation. (lmk if i forgot anything)! ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to luke castellan under this post or in my inbox, as well!

i hope you like this, anon!! (and anyone else reading ofc), let me know what you think! <3 this is also my first time writing for luke, so hopefully i do him some justice!

taglist : @ayoitsmarie33 @junos-web

while luke castellan was busy playing capture the flag and most likely winning, you were busy with something else. quiet whimpers left your parted lips as you struggled to keep yourself quiet, sitting on your boyfriend’s bed and grinding against his pillow for at least a bit of friction. you wanted something else in its entirety, but for now, you’d have to settle for this. your shorts discarded and your panties pushed to the side, your cunt leaking and begging for anything, especially from the boy you loved.

it was a shame that he wasn’t here, and you were strongly feeling the affect of his absence. covering your mouth with one hand, you used the other to support yourself.

“be quiet, dove.” that oh-so familiar voice startled you, your head snapping around as you instantly paused in your movements.

luke castellan, shed of the armor you’d seen him in just before the start of the capture the flag game, stood just a few feet behind you. his arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“luke-” you started, in a futile attempt to explain what was going on without getting yourself in trouble.

“i know,” he leaned forward, tracing your jaw with a hand. “needed some release, hm? when the fuck will you learn?” his eyes darkened after the last sentence, a tint of anger laced in his tone. “my cock is the only thing that can make you cum. what the fuck do i have to do to make you understand that?” he spat in your face, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “nasty girl.” he drawled.

“wait, no, ‘m sorry!” you gasped, falling back onto his bed with a squeak.

“you’re sorry? sorry doesn’t fucking cut it. you should know that by now. you’re fucking pathetic.”

his words sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes tightly.

“what the fuck have i said about not looking at me?” he instantly questioned, scoffing at you.

“t- to never close my eyes,” you whispered back, hesitantly letting your eyes flutter open.

he loomed above you, a cocky smirk on his face. “i think you should be punished.”

“wh- what?” you stammered, eyes widening.

“you fuckin’ heard me. how ‘bout i fuck you ‘til you’re dumb and all you can think about is my cock? bet that’s all you could think about when gettin’ off on this stupid pillow. the pillow doesn’t know your body, i do. so what the fuck made you think a fucking pillow could get you off?” he laughed in your face.

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry!” you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together for friction. gods, he was being so cruel.

“you should be sorry. fuckin’ say it like you mean it.” he hissed out.

“i do!! i do mean it!” you whined.

“no you don’t.” is all he said before he leaned forward, kissing you so feverishly that any reply you may have had on your tongue was instantly melted away, just by how hot and desperate the kiss was.

you’d barely even realized—half-conscious just by his kisses alone—that he’d already taken off his pants, and was in the process of removing his boxers. when you did, your breath hitched.

“please..” you begged, wanting so desperately to tangle your fingers in his hair. however, due to your hands being restrained, you couldn’t.

“only good girls get what they want. you’re far from a good girl, dove.” he responded lowly.

“i’ll be a good girl, promise!” you were nearly blabbering, and he hadn’t even touched you.

“yeah, y’will?” it was almost as if you could feel the way he didn’t believe you. this was nothing new, after all. you claimed you’d be good, if only for tonight. and then you went back to being a fucking brat. despite that, you were his fucking brat. only his.

you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. he nearly smiled, finding your tears so, so pretty. “gonna cry, dove? go ahead. cry all you want. next thing, y’know, you’ll only be crying out my name and how you want me to stop fucking you,” he whispered, mouth now by your ear. “but we both know you’d be lying to the both of us.”

you swallowed, watching his expression. “nuh-uh..” you mumbled, wanting to look away. but you knew the rules. keep your eyes on him the entire time.

“yuh-uh,” he shot back, grinning at you. not a nice grin, no—one that told you that you were about to be fucked. literally, and figuratively speaking.

with his hot and bothered cock free from the confines of his boxers, he didn’t hesitate. lining himself up with your sopping cunt, not even needing to prep you due to how much slick was running out of your pussy and down your thighs, it was enough to make sure any pain you might have felt would be washed away almost instantly. he slid in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“fuck.. luke!” you cried, already shaking. you were overstimulated due to the fact of you trying to get off on his pillow, and he knew as such. did he care? absolutely not. that only made him want to fuck into you so much more, to the point where you’d try to claw at his back and beg him to stop.

“shh,” he cooed, laughing in your face. “you can take it, you stupid girl. you’re just a hole for me to fill, yeah?” there was a glint in his eyes, something that told you he’d be far from done. you were practically gushing around his cock like a bitch in heat (his words, not your own) and he adored it.

“mhm!!” you nodded frantically, whining as you blabbered incoherently about how much you needed this. which was true, you had desperately needed this.

“fuuucckk,” he groaned, his thrusts speeding up. you gasped, trembling already. “mine. all fuckin’ mine. you know that, huh? don’t ever try to get pleasure from something that isn’t my cock, that isn’t my fingers, that isn’t my mouth. that’s all you’ll ever be pleasured by- fuck- and we both know it.” he leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss to keep you quiet, your tongues in a battle for dominance—one you were obviously going to lose—and tangling with each other like this was your purpose.

“gonna cum, gonna-” you sobbed, gulping in large portions of air as you panted.

“c’mon, dove. be a good girl..” he grunted, “let me hear you.” he added, and you swore you could feel him. all of him, filling you to the absolute brim.

and fuck, did it feel so good. so much so, you clenched around his cock immediately, milking him for all he was worth as you came with a half-concealed scream, cut off by the way he shoved his fingers into your mouth to keep anyone from hearing you. your sounds were for his ears only, after all.

he stilled inside of you for a second, eyes half-lidded. your chest was rising and falling quickly, your cheeks tear-stained and puffy. “no more..” you choked out, knowing that he hadn’t cum yet himself.

“aw, i can’t do that. i haven’t cum, dove. you can take it all, right?”

[safination]

Partners in Death... and Life

Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: The Radio Star’s Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes||Masterlist| ao3| Tag-list| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there

Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.

Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount? Updated: 5/01/2024 *just realized that I forgot to add the part I was supposed to add*

The heart monitor beeps with a steady rhythm. The model’s ECG reading dip, but that’s normal for her species. You study the model asleep on your table, and take your place.

Turning to your interns, you adjust the fit of your gloves as say, “Are you ready?

From the other side of the table, Lys nods her head with such vigor that you’re afraid it would fall off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”

Heme takes their place next to you, wheeling the cart within your reach. “Aren’t there supposed to be more people here?” they ask, adjusting the fit of their mask with their shoulder. “We don’t even have an anesthesiologist present, and the technician dumped the tools and left without a word!”

Sighing, you take another look at the screen, and monitor the patient’s ECG readings. Just a couple of decades ago, you wouldn’t even be allowed to take five steps into a surgical suite, but in your death, you stare at the state-of-the-art Vox technology heart monitor.

“This was dumped at the last minute. And the Vees paid a hefty amount for the best,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I guess it doesn’t help that most of the staff have clocked-off for the night already.”

“It really doesn’t,” Heme says. You think they frown, you’re not actually sure. It’s hard to tell with masks on, but Heme sounds like they’re frowning.

“On the bright side, this is a special case, and special cases require special means,” you say. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure to show you something amazing.”

Lys squeals, jumping a bit, “I can’t wait to see your work.”

You turn to Heme. “Tell how you were guided into stopping the bleeding by Doctor Neisseria.”

Heme straightens, round their shoulders. “Hemostatic dressing for the capillaries,” they recite. “Then Lys clipped the bigger vessels, and Doctor Neisseria used an electrocautery for any that we missed.”

“Good,” you say. “Lys, is this your first time using a clip?”

“…Yes,” Lys tells you. Even with a mask on, you could tell she was sulking.

You eye the cart between you and Heme, double checking that the technician brought everything you requested for. “It shows,” you say. “Practice every chance you get. Make a deal with some poor and down on their luck Sinner who wouldn’t mind making a deal for permission to poke around whenever you want. They’ll heal on their own if it’s not too severe…or don’t—I mean, that’s how I did mine.”

Lys blinks at you. “I’ll…keep that in mind.”

Your shoulder slumps. “…Shall we just begin?”

Heme hands you a needle driver, the needle already clipped to it. A bunch of suture forms around your palm. It’s study, and made of pure Sinner Magical Energy, or just magic or whatever. It comes out of your and you have full control, that’s all you need to know.

Heme and Lys lean closer to observe the threads you make.

I don’t get to do this often.” You turn your head, motioning to the detached arm placed on the side. The skin has been stretched and the jagged and stringy muscle fibers sticking out tell you it’s been ripped off rather than slice. The radius protrudes out into the air, jagged and sharp. It would have hurt this model quite a lot. “Steady her arm please.”

Lys snatches the arm, holding it with confidence as she steadies it. “This is so cool.”

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

“Whether your patient is awake or not, a steady hand is key,” you say. “When you pierce your needle, be sure to do it right at the epidermis when dealing with the skin. Too deep and you’ll puncture the arteries or nerves.”

Lys brings the arm closer, and you do the first suture that will connect the limb of Velvette’s model. Valen-something apparently tore her up, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. So, they rushed her into the Emergency Room three days before this poor girl’s debut, and dropped her into your care with her arm and leg in an ice box.

You sew the model’s arm. The threads around your fingers are light, but sturdy. You entwine some around your fingers like some puppet master for better grip. Blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles. Not a single cell escapes your control.  

You quiz your interns from time to time or tell them to take a closer look at where the vessels stick out the muscles, making sure they’re able to observe how a proper reattachment is conducted.

You study the threads connecting the arm to its body There are thousands of loose sutures. One single pull, and it will be completely reattached.

You shift your shoulders and crack your neck, giving it a slight stretch. “How long has it been?”

Lys glances at the clock behind you. “Five hours. I think it’s almost sunrise.”

“Be ready to be here for a while,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “The leg will be more complicated.”

Heme groans and their shoulder slump. “I guess I should just be thankful the model is mostly humanistic.”

You pull on the singular thread, and the stitches shorten until the arm is fully connected to its base. A thing line is the only indication that any limbs have been detached.

The door swings open and you snap your head at the sound.

“Hey doc!” The little Egg Boi saunters into the room, an envelope in his tiny hands. “I got something for you.”

Your feathers crack and sharpen. “If you wish to keep your shell,” you hiss at him, “you will leave this room before you contaminate it further.”

Egg Boi #04 wobbles a bit. “I was told to give you a message.”

A headache forms on your temples. You want to massage it, but that would contaminate your gloves. “Lys, show the egg to the observation room. Show him the microphone.”

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

Heme grabs the leg, and you begin again. You pause to take a deep breath. The threads don’t just appear out of thin air—they’re created because you will them to take shape. It gives as much as it needs to take from you.

Egg Boi# 04’s voice echoes on the speaker. “I have a note for you.”

“Read it then leave.” You pierce the tibia bone with your needle (special hell needle, you guess. Normal needles definitely cannot pierce bones) and connect it to the model’s leg.

Your concentration does not waver, even as Lys enters back into the room.

“My dearest good doctor,” Egg Boi #04 reads. “What a helltastic day for –"

“Stop!” you exclaim, and the threads you’re producing fizzle a bit, “Is that from Alastor?”

“Uhhh…yes?”

“Give me 10 minutes.” You sew the model’s leg just like before, starting from bones, then vessels, the muscles, and finally skin, but this time at a much faster pace.  

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

Heme gawks at you. “I thought the leg was more complicated?”

“It is.”

“It took you five minutes to sew everything,” they say. “Why did it take the arm until sunrise?”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn anything if I went too fast.” You hand the needle driver to Heme, who takes it with eager hands “I trust you will be able to close for me?”

“Yes!”

“Go around the skin—remember not too deep,” you say. “Once it’s all connected, just one strong pull and the threads should work their magic. Lys, once she closes, you can practice your knots.”

The door closes with a swing. You discard your gloves then peel off your protective layers, but you keep the scrub cap on your head.

The Egg Boi waddles into the room, threatening to tip any moment. He holds up Alastor’s note and you’re forced to bend when you reach for it.

You open the envelope and sigh. “This is a letter, and definitely not a note,” you say counting all the pages jammed into the envelope. “Notes are small pieces of paper, and not fifteen pages of paper scribbled back-to-back.”

You take one deep breath, flaring your nostrils as you contemplate your marriage choices, and begin reading.

Heme enters the holding room as you’re reading through the last page.

They take a look at the pages you’ve read. “Ohhhhh a letter?” they say, discarding their mask into the trash. Their gloves are next. “Who is it from?”

“My husband.”

“Why a letter?” Heme asks you “Why not just shoot you a text or a phone call?”

“He mumbles to himself when he writes, and he just loves hearing his own voice.” You turn to the Egg Boi once you’ve read the last word. “Tell Alastor I’m busy—I can’t leave work to go to the hotel on such short notice!”

“Right….” Heme leans against the sink. “Management will be dropping by this afternoon.”

Your eyes squint. “This afternoon? I was told there'd be visiting tomorrow!”

“Yes, they informed you last night,” Heme says. “It’s tomorrow now—morning, actually.”

Your eyes twitch as your turn to Egg Boi #4. “Tell him I will be early. Now go, run along now, least you get scrambled.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Bustling sounds from the other side of the circus themed doors. You knock then take a step backwards, least Vaggie greets you with a fist to the face.

A crash sounds from the inside. The door slams open, and Charlie pops out, hair disheveled and sticking out in odd places. You see the relief oozing into her. Charlie’s smile relaxes and her eyes stop bulging at the sight of you.

She says your name with enthusiasm. “It’s just you! I am so glad to see you.”

You wave at her. “Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you as well.”

“Would you like to come inside?” she says at the same time another crash sounds. Charlie’s smile turns sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s quite alright,” you say with a polite smile. “Who am I to judge another person’s mess? It can be quite entertaining sometimes.”

 Charlies smoothens the stray hairs sticking out. It does little to actually fix it. “Sooooo what brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome here! Everyone is welcome here! We don’t discriminate at –”

The door swings wider and Alastor pops out with that permanent smile of his. “I called her here.”

Alastor helps you out of your coat as you enter through the doors, and drapes it over his arm. “I came early. I hope you don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the crudely attached banners. Strobe lights are being taped to the railings. Its brightness makes you blink. “Are you throwing a party? Is that why you called me here?”

Alastor hangs your coat on the rack. “We’re preparing for a sudden guest,” he says. “It seems we’ll have to delay our plans, only if you’re happy with waiting for me.”

Charlie shrinks and her eyes water a bit. “Alastor…,” she says with a frown. “If you have plans, that’s alright—go. We can manage without you here!”

“Not at all, this is where he needs to be right now,” you tell Charlie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile brightens immediately. “Who will be the special guest today?”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers. “We…invite my…dad.”

Alastor twirls his microphone. “The King of Hell himself.”

“Oh,” you start, “the demon is coming here?”

“That’s actually Satan,” Charlie says with a smile. “Dad often gents confused with Satan but they’re not the same

“Oh…So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

You laugh a bit—you’re not even sure why. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. It sounded so awkward, even to you. “Well, how can I help? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

Charlie’s eyes brighten, and she shakes your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Alastor grabs Charlie’s fingers with the tip of his own and pry them off you. “I’ve already come all this way,” you say, and turn to your husband. “I’m sure we can make the most out of this situation.”

Charlie leaves to change her clothes, and hopefully brush her hair while she’s at it.

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his, even when you know it’s unnecessary to escort you to a living area that’s five-feet away.

He leaves you, walking to the kitchen with a wave of his microphone.

The hotel looks the same, just more diverse colors hanging around. Niffty stalks past you without a word, engrossed in her task of sweeping the floor. Angel Dust or Vaggie don’t seem to be around, nor is Husk at his usual post. Only a one-eyed cat keeps you company.

On the table,  deflated balloons are left forgotten with two pumps resting next to it. You take your seat, and complete the unfinished task.

You’re on the third balloon when Alastor presents a mug to you.

He leans over the chair, reaching his arms to place that ‘Oh Deer’ mug on the table. It’s difficult to meet his eyes when he leans so far in front that his whole face is upside down.

His hair hangs in the air, and your husband looks goofy in such an awkward position that you can’t help but laugh. “You look awful this hellish morning!” he says, and his grin widens until his teeth show. “I thought you could use a bit of brightening up. You’re practically dozing off in the chair.”

 “Thank you,” you say, a small smile on your face. “The coffee smells good.”

Alastor swings back, and lands next to you. “I know we agreed to leave such tasks to you,” he says and he waves his arms as he talks. “But you look ready to drop dead any second. Poor Niffty had swept about a hundred feathers on your short walk from the door to this chair—Long day?”

“Longer day, actually. Yesterday’s long day turned into a late night that bleeds into today’s early morning.” You take a sip, and revel in its taste. Even after all these years…his coffee still tastes like acidic bean water. (If you smile, then that’s your business.) “The coffee tastes good.”

Alastor crosses his leg, cracking a laugh hard enough for his eyes to bulge. “You didn’t even try to check if it’s been tampered,” he says with that same wild smile. “Are you that tired, my love?”

You smile at him, lips curving bright and wide. “My deerest, did you place something into my coffee?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s disappointing,” you say, taking another sip. “That suit of yours could use some brightening up! A splash of this bean water would add such an interesting texture to it.”

“We’ll it good to see you’re not tired enough to lose your way with words,” Alastor says, smiling at you. “But if you’ve had a ‘longer’ day, you could have sent the Egg Boy—"

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

Alastor squints, his brow furrowing as he does. “That’s what I said.”

“You said Egg Boy, deerest,” you tell him, taking a longer sip than usual to drown your laughter. “Those eggs are called Egg Bois. They have different numbers—except Frank.”

On the corner of his cheek—just where it’s always been—Alastor’s smile strains. “You said the same thing as I did.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

You chuckle a bit, and take another long slip. “If you say so.”

Alastor rolls his eyes and he makes it a point to show you he’s doing so. “You could have mentioned to that egg creature that you’d had a long day.”

“Management was dropping by my floor today.” You grab another balloon to pump it.

Alastor’s head tilts, and you hear the small crack of his neck. Static fills the air. “Well, I’m always glad to be used in such a way.”

You roll your eyes, making it a point to show Alastor that you’re doing so. The sharpened feathers and the glow of your eyes were just for the fun of it. “There is another reason why I dropped by the hotel.”

“Do tell!”

You knot the end of the balloon and throw it to the side. “Who am I to refuse the summon of the Radio Demon?”

“His wife.”

You snort, and toss a balloon at him. One balloon becomes two and now you’re just tossing whatever balloon you could get your hands on.

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

You cross your arms, staring down at him. “I was going to use that.”

Alastor grabs the second pump. 

An hour passes too soon. They always seem to do around your husband. The balloons are stringed and weighted. Razzle and Dazzle—the two lambs Charlie made a point to introduce you too—put up a…er… interesting banner on the railings.

Sir Pentious slithers out the kitchen, a tray of cookies in his hold. The Hazbin Hotel looks lively. The space looks decent—live in — as if Sinners actually gathered and used the space. (Those are your favorite kind.)

Sir Pentious offers a cookie to you, and you munch on it. You give him a compliment for its taste.

By the entrance, with Vaggie to her side and Alastor at the other, Charlie takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she does.

Vaggie gives her a smile, and Charlie opens the door.

The bringer of sin rushes to his daughter, drowning her in a hug.“Chaaaaarlie!”

Charlie squirms in his hold. “Heeeyy, Dad!”

Egg Boi #13 and Egg Boi #08 twist their poppers and confetti pops into the air. Niffty grabs her broom, sweeping the floor.

You watch Lucifer, and try to hide your smile. The King of Hell looks different from any paintings or drawings humans make. They can’t seem to capture how shy he looks. How awkward. No painting has been able to capture his search for a place to belong.

This Fallen Angel has blond hair. He’s not the brunette you thought he’d be, which was a shame for you rather liked brunets. It makes sense he’d be blond. Afterall, Charlie has blonde hair as well, and she is the spitting image of her father.

If someone told you it was Lucifer who birthed her, you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“It’s finally nice to put a name to the face.” Alastor shakes Lucifer’s hand with his microphone, wiping his own right after. “You are much shorter in real life.”

You turn aways, coughing to hide your laughter as Alastor banters with Lucifer.

Husk rolls his eyes at you and grumbles. “Of course, you’d find that hilarious,” he says. “Everyone knows it's smart to insult Lucifer.”

You place a hand on your cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Charlie brings Lucifer to meet your group. He calls Vaggie, Maggie. Smiles awkwardly when Angel Dust calls him a ‘short king’. Lucifer waves back when Husk waves at him, and shrinks when Niffty jumps and pulls him by the collar. One by one, you’re introduced.

You extend your arm for a handshake.

Lucifer smiles awkwardly, shrinking a bit, but reaches out to shake your ha—

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God…

Lucifer begins to sing.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Your hair sticks to your face.

Water droplets splash on your clothes. You accept your fate, and trudge through the rain, even as your fingers freeze. The breeze blows your hair, making you nuzzle into your damp coat. You should have brought an umbrella, or taken a cab. Just your luck, a sunny day turns into a drizzle that turns your shoes into a lake. You hate damp socks.

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

You spring out of its coverage, spinning to look behind. Your arms jerk out, causing you to wobble because of the wet pavement. (That’s totally not embarrassing.)

 “The point of an umbrella is to stay underneath it when it’s raining.” Alastor smiles, giving you a small wave.

You wave back.

“Oh…hello,” you say, adjusting the straps of your bag. Alastor takes a step forward, and you jump backwards. “I’m alright—I can manage by myself.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about your very capable self from underneath the umbrella,” he says, twirling the umbrella. “Come on, now.”

You dip your head inside. Alastor inches closer, but there’s still a respectable gap between your shoulders. “I’m really alright,” you say. “I quite love the rain.”

“Yes, the rain is a beautiful thing to frolic underneath when you’re in a meadow,” Alastor says. You can’t help but feel that Alastor is scolding you, “not when it splashes off buildings and drips off power lines and other items that have not been cleaned. We are in the city, my dear.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“My mother would roll in her grave and haunt me when she finds out I left a lady in the rain.”

“But—”

“Constant refusal is quite rude, you know,” he tells you. “And I still owe you one favor.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Alastor says with a smile that makes you smile back. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’m happy to leave my umbrella in your umbrella-less but capable hands, and be on my way.”

You shake your head, inching closer. “We can share if you don’t mind walking.”

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

Alastor follows your every step, covering you with an umbrella that was meant for one. You glance at his shoulder, and turn away to hide your frown. Half of his shoulder sticks out into the rain, gathering droplets, while not a single speck of water slides on you.

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you say, and take a hold of his umbrella. Alastor is taller, and you have to quirk your arms higher to avoid hitting his head.

Alastor slips out of his coat. You watch him slide it off his shoulders and pull his arm out the slits. He’s wearing a vest—a fine vest as well. Alastor flicks out stray waterdrops. He leans close enough for you to smell his cologne. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, grabbing the lapels to adjust its fit. His body heat lingers. It’s warm…he’s warm.

Alastor pries the umbrella from your grip with a wide smile. “Before you say anything, the only response that I will be accepting is, ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“You’re welcome.” He adjusts the angle of the umbrella, careful to keep every drop of rain from touching you, even at the cost of his own clothes. “Whatever made you decide to walk?  There are cabs and busses for a reason.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I started,” you say. “Plus, I was eager to get home.”

He keeps his eyes ahead. “It’s still quite dangerous.”

You step over a puddle, narrowly missing it. “Dangerous?”

“Yes!”

“The sun is—well, was still up when I began walking.”

Alastor hums, shaking his head. “Murders and thieves do not magically dissolve in the sun.”

You smile to yourself. “I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable on that subject.”

Alastor turns to you, and his hair shifts as he tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“I heard your voice on the radio this morning,” you tell him, adjusting his coat around your shoulders. “I caught the news segment.”

“Well,” he starts, his smile widening. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “you must have been busy when I mentioned the forecast then.”

You inch closer as much as he’ll allow you, trying to keep a respectable distance, but still close enough that Alastor doesn’t need to sacrifice his clothes to keep yours dry. “Speaking of radio, what brings you to this area?” you say. “Isn’t the radio station all the way across town?”

Alastor laughs in a way that makes you wish you’ve kept your mouth shut. “Have you been tracking my movements?”

“Not at all,” you say and try to mimic his laugh. It comes out strained instead. “I just know how to read a map.”

Alastor steps over a puddle. He places a hand on your back, guiding you away from it. “I just had some business in the area,” he says and drops his hand. “I turned the corner and I found you walking all alone in the rain!”

You smile, careful to keep your eyes forward. “I’m thankful to whatever beings that fated our paths to cross.”

Alastor leans closer, eyeing your hands. “Been gardening recently?”

You glance at your nails, at where stubborn soil sticks underneath the cuticle. “No…not at all,” you say slowly. “I guess you could say…light treasure hunting…?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I find myself dumbfounded at your wide range of hobbies.”

“I hate seeing things go to waste.” You try to ignore the squish of your socks. You are definitely never forgetting your umbrella again. “For example, your garbage is my treasure.”

“What a wonderful philosophy to live by.” Alastor meets your eyes and smiles.

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

Alastor��s hold on the umbrella stays firm, even as he follows you around the corner and across the street. Not a single drop of water lands on you. “What treasure were you able to find?”

“You have a lot of questions for me today,” you say and ignore the thumping of your heart. “I feel as if you know me more than I know you—I think that’s rather unfair.”

“Well, what would you like to know?”

You move your foot to avoid puddles of trash. The city could really use a good cleaning. “You know so much about my hobbies. So, I’d like to know some of yours.”

“There isn’t really much to tell,” he says. “The radio is my life.”

A strong breeze has you sinking deeper into Alastor’s coat. “You have your hunts.”

You glance at Alastor, and oh…his hair is as brown as his eyes. Wisps of hair stick to his face because of the rain.

Alastor’s brows furrow a bit, but you swear his smile turns sweet. “Those are more of… a necessity than a hobby.”

“In what way?”

“The woods around my area have a lot of… let’s say… mammals that don’t necessarily belong there, it is as if someone just leaves them from time to time. I hunt a few here and there to thin the population a bit.”

You smile to yourself. “Well, tell me about the radio—What is that like?”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Why, it is the proper medium of expressing oneself, of course.”

“It must be nice having such a creative outlet,” you say. “Sometimes, I wonder how you’re able to come up with the most exciting segments.”

“Sadly, you would think after all these years of bringing success and money into the company, I would be allowed to have more control over my content.”

You step over another puddle. A small tug on Alastor’s arm, and he steps over it as well. “That is quite sad to hear.”

“For example,” he starts, adjusting his hold on the umbrella. “I wanted to have this whole portion just on crimes that have been committed.”

“Like… the news?”

“No, not at all,” he says. “I was thinking more on the lines of old cases like robberies and murders—some solved, some not. Unfortunately, the director said it would be too gruesome.”

“It really depends on how you choose to present it,” you say. “I think audiences would love a good mystery with a satisfying conclusion.”

“That is exactly what I thought so as well!” Alastor’s smile widens. “I came across this story…Oh, well I wouldn’t want to bother you with the details.”

“I’d love to hear this,” you say, chuckling. “Show me how you would present it.”

“One winter night,” he starts off with that never ending smile on his lips, “a child—no ordinary child—disappears in the middle of the night. There were no signs of a break in and nothing other than the child was taken from the home. Not a single dust was out of place.”

“Wait, what was so special about the child?”

“I will tell you,” he says. “That child was the two-year old son of aviator Charles Lindenberg! Some newspapers called the child the ‘Eaglet’ because his father had become the first man to fly across the Atlantic Oce—Oh, why are we stopping?”

He angles the umbrella, careful to keep you dry. You smile at him and point at the small apartment complex behind you. “This is where I live.”

Alastor doesn’t frown, but his smile droops a bit. “Oh…” he says. “I was getting to the most interesting portion of the story—what a shame.”

“A shame, indeed,” you echo. “You have such a captivating way of conveying your words.”

“Thank you.”

The rain splatters on the umbrella. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Your socks are damp and it’s starting to get colder. “Would you like to finish what you were saying?”

Alastor’s smile widens, just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. “On the month of May, after continuous searching, a tiny little corpse was found abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics determined that the baby was bludgeoned to death.”

“It’s quite funny,” you tell him. “You talk of such gruesome murders but I find myself captivated.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for going out of your way for me, Alastor.” You slip out of his coat, returning it to him. It’s cold—has it always been this cold. “Will I see you around?”

“Of course,” he says. “We always meet in such unconventional places.”

You duck out of the umbrella, giving him one last smile and head up the steps.  A twist of a doorknob, a few flights of stairs, and you would be home. You were tired, your socks are soaking, and the back of your clothes stick to your skin. So, why…why do you find yourself running back into the rain?

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

Alastor covers you with his umbrella. “What’s wrong?”

‘I… I may have a problem.” The words are slipping out of your lips. “Are you busy by any chance?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I can always come back.”

 “Would you help me?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Of course.” Alastor brings the umbrella closer to you. “What can I do for you?”

“I think…” you begin to say. Stop. Stop! You should turn back; head inside where warm clothes and a bath awaits you. “I think I’m in the wrong area.”

Alastor laughs, and it’s that same breathy and light laugh as before. He drapes his coat over your shoulder once more, and adjusts its fit to secure it around you. It’s the warmest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left a lady stranded in the rain.”

“Not at all,” you say with a smile that you do not remember smiling. “Lots of scary thieves and murders out there—apparently they don’t disappear during the day.”

Alastor nudges you along, down the path, to a destination either of you have the faintest idea where it will end.

Your feet stay locked in its place, and you hold Alastor in your gaze. (His bowtie is crooked, and even with his coat around you, he looks presentable. His vest matches his shoes. You note how his smile is asymmetrical, and how his eyes are still as brown as his hair. Alastor’s glasses are frosted, but he doesn’t seem to mind.)

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

“I’m fine. It’s just….” You shake your head and smile. “It would be a waste to forget this.”

“Come on,” Alastor says in a voice that is oh so soft. He offers his arm, and you hook your own around his.

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“Motherfucker!” Husk curses into the air, his ears quirking as he does. “Would it fucking kill you to be gentle with that shit?”

“I am being gentle.” You stare him down, keeping the towel pressed firm against his foot. “Would you want to know what it’s like when I’m not? I’d be very happy to comply.”

“………No.”

“Then settle down, Husker,” you say and use your free hand to grab the forceps from the hotel’s medical kit. “This will be much easier if you stay still…or don’t and give yourself a harder time. I’m not the one with glass sticking out of my foot.”

Husk sinks into the clinic bed, sulking as he crosses his arms. He picks on the pillow, fidgeting with its seams. “Bitch.”

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “Virgin.”

Husk’s fangs show when he growls. “I am not…grandma.”

Your feathers bristle. It’s smart to keep Husk talking, even if hurling insults is the way to do so. If it keeps him distracted, you won’t complain. “I died in my late twenties…or was it my early thirties — I honestly forget.”

The blood on his foot begins to clot, and you toss the towel to the waste basket. You walk to the sink, rinsing stray droplets of Husk’s blood with soap.

“Settle down then, grandma,” he says with a triumphant smile, and you roll your eyes. “Today, it’s your memories. Tomorrow, it could be anything.”

You plop on the clinic chair, waiting for your hands to dry. “Yes, it would make sense you’re familiar with the signs,” you shoot back, “considering you lived long enough to be called Pawpaw — Is that why you’re a cat?”

Husk barks a laugh, his wings flaring. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to you. It hits the side of the chair and langs on your lap. You pick it up and toss it back at him. “At least my husband didn’t walk out on me for several years without so much as a word.”

You chuckle, and settle his foot on your leg for better access. Taking your forceps, you brush away slivers of glass from Husk’s foot …or would this be his paw?

You clip a shard of glass, and glance at him. When Husk doesn’t whine like a little bitch, you pull a shard and drop it to the metal pan across you. “At least my marriage lasted even through death, Arachnid Simp.”

Husk rolls his eyes. You smile when his whiskers twitch. “Where did you even learn that word?”

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you—I don’t know—wore these things called shoes?” You pluck another shard of glass. Husk tries to jerk his foot away, but your hold stays firm. “They were invented a long, long, time ago, and were created to keep your feet protected.”

“Stop talking as if I’m a child.” Husk frowns and his teeth stick out. “Wearing them feels weird.”

“I guess they kind of are weird.” You grab a fresh towel when blood squirts out of Husk’s foot. “You die and then suddenly waking up to see you don’t have toes

A beat passes between you. “Do you…do you not have toes?”

You toss the towel, and pick out the last shard. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

“What does that even mean?” Husk growls, running his palms over his face.

“I…have absolutely no idea.”

You reach into the medical kit, grabbing some dressing. You peel the plastic and toss it to the trash, and press it against his foot.

Egg Boi #03 waddles up to you, a gauze roll in his tiny hands — you weren’t aware the little egg creature was in the room. You thank him with a smile, and wrap the gauze roll around Husk’s paw then his ankle. Satisfied, you clip it in its place.

“You’re all done,” you say. “It might be weird to step on it for a few hours, but it’s not impossible. The glass didn’t puncture you too deep.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh…and just in case, the amount of blood you saw isn’t anything to be scared of. There’s just a lot of tiny vessels on the foot. That’s why it took a while for it to stop,” you say and toss him a new set of gauze rolls and pads.

Husk stares at the items. “I don’t know how to use this.”

You stare at him, leaning into the chair. “Just slap the square on the skin and roll the gauze around your foot.”

Husk hops out of the clinic, keeping pressure off his injury.

It takes a while to clean up after yourself, but Egg Boi #03 keeps you company. The little egg speaks a lot of nonsense, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. You flick the lights, and Egg Boi #03 follows behind you.

The chandeliers had been dragged away, and the glass and debris cleared off the carpet.

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

You squirm in her hold, placing a placating hand on her shoulders.

“I am sooooo glad you are here!” Mimzy exclaims, shaking your shoulders. “This is like one big reunion, ay. Just between you and me, that Lucifer is a real looker—shame on Alastor for not warning a gal. I would have dressed better, and who knows? Maybe I could be the Queen of Hell. Ha!”

Mimzy grabs your arm and drags you to the bar. Husk pours you a drink with a nod, and stalks away. Seeing him hop up the stairs makes you laugh.

You swirl your drink. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

“Not that old!” Mimzy swats your arm, a huge grin on her lips. “And there’s no need to lie to me, darling. I doubt you actually feel that way.”

“Well, I still have those burn marks on my wall from the time you decided to play bartender with matches.”

Mimzy barks a laugh, and her legs kick. “C’mon you can’t still be blaming  me! If I remember correctly, it was Alastor who brought out the matches.”

Angel Dust walks up to you with Sir Pentious trailing behind him. You wave.Sir Pentious waves back, his hood flapping open.

“Mind if we join ya?” Angel Dust asks.

“Not at all,” Mimzy says. “I’m always weak to such lookers.”

Angel Dust takes the seat next to you and pushes back his hair. Sir Pentious takes the one behind him. “Sooooo, you two and Alastor run in the same circles.” He takes a drink. “And you guys are friends with him?”

You take a sip of your own drink. “You could describe it that way.”

“Well, those are your words, not mind, but I think it fits.” Mimzy glances at you, a knowing smile on her lips. “But our good doctor here is more than just—Hey! Why do you look so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery,” Angel Dust says. Sir Pentious nods, his head squeaking as he does “What's his deal?”

Mimzy is happy to explain tall, dark, and creepy’s ‘deal’.

“But before that, he was the prime bachelor of my day,” Mimzy says. “Not a single lady wouldn’t want a taste of that twink. But eh… I wouldn’t wish marriage with Alastor on even my worst enemies. It would be a real shock when you die and find out your hubby’s got a real screw loose.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock to me,” you say, rolling your eyes. You swirl your drink—hmmm, it’s good to know Husk still knows what you like.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Mimzy chuckles nervously. She scoots closer, elbowing you lightly.  “You happy he’s back? I still remember the few months you’d visit my place to look for your deerest, most darling Alastor, Mimzy at the bottom of a bottle.”

Your eyes twitch. “Quite pleased actually,” you say and force a smile. “It’s great to finally see my husband again.”

“Husband?” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

Sir Pentious tilts his head and his hat slides off a bit. “Oh you’re married?”

You show them your ring, wiggling your finger. “Indeed.”

Sir Pentious puffs out his chest. “I would love to meet thisss husband of yours,” he says. “If you cannot be my rival, he can fight in your stead.”

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

Mimzy stares at him. “He’s not the brightest is he?”

Angel Dust drops his drink with a clink. “Pause,” he splutters. “Shut u—” He coughs, still reeling from his drink going down the wrong pipe. “Shut up. Plause. Pause!”

Sir Pentious frowns, and his tongue sticks out. “No one elssseee is talking.”

“There is no way,” Angel Dust says. He turns to you, eyes bulging. “I refuse to believe that Freaky got hitched.”

Sir Pentious gapes, and his hoop opens. “Alastor is married as well?”

Mimzy slaps her forehead and points to you. “He’s married to her!”

“You are mess’in with me,” Angel Dust says. “Well, you can’t trick me. I refuse to believe it, toots.”

Mimzy takes a swig of her drink. “No one’s mes’in with ya,” she says with bright eyes. “They had a big white wedding and everything. I even got to bless them with my singing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mimzy glares at Angel Dust, a hand on her hips and her noise in the air. “You calling me a liar?”

You place a hand on Mimzy’s shoulder. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?” you say.

“Could’ve been better without the rain,” she says shrugging.

The lights flicker. Static fills the air, making your skin buzz. The bar glows a faint green. “The rain made it sentimental actually,” you say and glance up the stairs. “We quite like the rain.”

Angel Dust crosses both sets of arms. “I thought you said you were friends.”

“I said partners,” you tell him. “Alastor said friends.”

Angel Dust blinks at you and sighs. “So, you married him? Like you’re his wife.”

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so,” you say, crossing your legs. “It would be weird not to be sure considering I was there in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Mimzy barks a laugh, and the feathers on her head sway. A part of you hopes she topples off the chair.

“Uh…Is this something we should know?” Angel Dust asks. “He’s not going to try to kill me because I learned about this right?”

“We’re not trying to hide it, but we don’t broadcast it either,” you say. “And well…no wife likes to be introduced as a ‘friend’.”

Sir Pentious’ tongue sticks out. “Does Alasssstor own your soul or something?”

You empty your drink and revel in the taste. “We got married back when we were alive.”

Angel Dust reaches across the bar, grabbing a whole bottle off the shelf with his long arms. He pops open the cork and takes a swig straight from the bottom. “I still have trouble belive you,” he says, squinting his eyes. “I just…I can’t!”

“Your belief, or lack of, won’t change the fact that I have a ring,” you say. “And it’s not really for you to believe, now is it?”

“Why…?” Angel Dust’s mouth quirks into the cutest frown. “Why…ya’know?”

You sigh and place a hand on your cheek with a smile. “He makes me laugh.”

Angel Dust makes a face, and coils back like he’s been shot.

“Oh he’s a total kitten,” Mimzy says with a bright smile. She inches her glass closer to Angel Dust, and he fills it up for her. “Catch him in a good mood or pour him a drink and play some jazz and he’s totally harmless.”

“You still shouldn’t toss caution into the air, Mimzy” you say. “If I were you, I’d be wary about trusting Alastor just because he likes cleaning up your mess.”

Angel Dust crosses his arm, and his eyebrows quirk. “Ain’t he your hubby?” he says. “Isn’t there this whole spiel about trust and love and faith and all that other boring vanilla shit.”

“He wouldn’t be the Radio Demon if he could be trusted by just anyone, now would he?” you say. “It still crosses me when I remember how he lied to me.”

Angel Dust’s eyes shine. “You said no wife likes being introduced as a ‘friend’.”

“Yes?”

“It must have crossed you quite a lot, huh?”

You shrug, a bit confused. “I mean… I wasn’t really a big deal at the end of the day.”

Angel Dust’s smile widens and that golden tooth of his shimmer. “I want to know everything.”

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Despite the rain, clear skies show the moon, not a cloud in sight.

The flashlight clipped on your collar shines on your path. Your boots sink deep into the mud, but that’s alright. A few inches of goo won’t stop you from your destination. You adjust your leather medical bag—double checked that there are gloves inside.

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

You lay your kit on some nearby stones and reach in for your gloves. You dig until bits of the cadaver’s skin stick out. You brush the soil of his chest and peel open the flaps of his skin. The underside of his skin has blood vessels attached to it. It was worth cutting out the fat to have a glimpse.

Superficial fascia connects his muscles to his dermis. You take your probe and disconnect the thin filament. It reminds you of spider-webs.

You discard your probe and exchange it for the bottle of formaldehyde. You can’t study the whole body, not when it’s exposed to the elements. His fingers are starting to rot, but that’s alright. The chest is all you need, for now. So, the chest is all you’ll preserve.

The cheesecloth you placed on him last night is still damp. Good, that means it’s been sanitized this whole time. You take the cheesecloth and wife it against his open cavity, sanitizing every surface you can reach.

The formalin stings your nose and burns your eyes. It makes you cough, but you push through the pungent chemical.

You peel off the cheesecloth and use it to spread formalin into the deeper crevices between his skin and muscle.

Good. There are no maggots yet. It means you still have time.

You discard your gloves for a fresh pair and prepare your tools. You take your forceps and clip the scalpel blade onto the handle. You lay all your tools on a clean cloth for easy reach.

A human’s adipose tissue buildup is thicker than animals. This man’s fat is soft, easily squishable. Sadly, you’re not here to study his fat.

The scalpel blade is balanced perfectly. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You slice through his adipose tissue, discarding it behind you, carving the cadaver until a nice rectangle opening forms. Muscles are grey, not like the red color printed on textbooks. You run your fingers along the smooth fibers of his pectorals. It’s slimy. That’s probably moisture mixing with the formaldehyde.

You quirk your shoulder to adjust the angle of your flashlight, still running your hand on his pectoral.

There, on the side of the chest where a muscle resembles a fan, do you find what you’re looking for.

Taking your probe, you define the muscle. You don’t use your scapple—never a scapple, because it could slice the fibers. You’ll scrape off the muscles later when it’s time to move on to the systems.

You take a pen and write your notes.

Muscle name: Serratus Ventralis. Description: The Serratus Ventralis appears to be a fan-shaped muscle, just like Hyman writes it to be. Although he’s not describing humans, I think it looks the same. Will double check to see if such similarities are indeed correct. Just like the book says, I can see the muscle extending anteriorly and posteriorly from the scapula and to the walls of the thorax. The Serratus Ventralis appears to be divisible into anterior and posterior portions, with the anterior originating deeper into the body. (Will cut open if there is still time.) The posterior border seems to be where it originates from, and while it is buried by other muscles, I think it originates from somewhere between the ribs. Origin, Insertion, Action: Origin: Textbook says it originates from the outer surfaces of the upper eight or nine ribs.  (Will double check once I’ve moved on.) Insertion: The muscle fibers appear to move upward to the side. Inserts along the anterior surface of the medial border of the scapula Action: If it indeed is inserted from the scapula, this could mean that it could draw the scapula, forward, backward or against the body.

You flip to the previous page, and cross out Serratus ventralis. You move on to the muscle on your list: Xiphihumeralis. Based on the name, the muscle should pass through the xiphoid process to the sternu—

“Is this what you meant about my trash being your treasure?”

You startle, jumping back until a tree hits you and there’s nowhere else to escape. Run. Run. Run! Your heart screams at you, hammering in your chest. No one is supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be alone. You were careful—not careful enough, apparently.

Alastor emerges from the trees.

He waves at you when your gazes meet, but you don’t wave back. He’s smiling. “Hello,” he greets you with a gentle voice that strikes your core. It would be foolish to mistake his gentleness for kindness. “And yet again, I’m forced to comment on how you have such interesting hobbies.”

You press deeper into the tree, even if a knot digs into your back. “This….” You pause, trying to find your voice. Do you run? “This isn’t a hobby. I’m merely studying.”

Alastor drops a bag on the ground. It looks heavy. “A man?”

“A cadaver,” you say, careful to keep your voice steady. You cannot let this man see any cracks. “They’re already dead, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them rot like this? At least now, their sorry lives will be making a meaningful contribution.”

The admission of your crime was easy to say. You don’t want to know what that means about you.

Alastor laughs. It’s not that breathy and light laugh he had earlier. This one is lighter, more elated. “Please, tell me more.”

You harden your heart, searching for any speck of bravery. “Why would I?”

Alastor smiles until his teeth show. The moon makes his brown eyes glow—you did not think it would be such an attractive color. “I’m the one holding the large knife.”

You glance at his hand, and oh…that indeed is quite a large knife. It’s not even a kitchen knife, but a proper hunting blade meant to kill. “I see you’re resorting to threats,” you say and you don’t know why you do. It’s not really a smart idea. “I did not think you, a man, would feel the need to say such things to a woman.”

“That was barely a threat,” he says. “I’m just curious to know your motivation to dig up trash.”

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

Alastor waves the knife as he talks. “Are there no other dead bodies for you to prey on?” he says. “Don’t hospitals have an area specifically to keep the dead?”

“Only morticians or medical students are allowed access,” you say. “I am neither.”

“Why not become one then?”

“Women as doctors are still a relatively new phenomena,” you say. “There is not a single medical school in this area that will allow me to study, nor are there any that won’t bring me into debt.” Your blood boils and it replaces your thumping heart. It still beats in your chest, but it’s not because of fear. “I needed to find a way to learn, to study, and textbooks could only describe it in words. I want to see for myself.”

Alastor plays with the tip of the knife. “Sounds like a classic case of lusting for knowledge.”

“If lust is to be my sin,” you start and a wonky smile appears on your face, “pride would be yours. A classic case of judge, jury and executioner.”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Well, you are holding the larger knife,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Anything more you’d like to know?”

Alastor hums at you. “How did you figure it out?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” you say, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “You should buy suspicious items at different times and places. Your turn—How did you know I was here?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” he echoes laughing like he’s told the funniest joke. “You shouldn’t have told me where you lived so easily. I thought I would have to hang around your clinic for a few days before I got your address.”

“I made sure to be careful.”

“You weren’t in the slightest,” he tells you. “Even an animal is harder to track. It was quite a surprise to see you heading in this direction.”

“Wait…,” you say slowly. “Hang around the clinic? You…you were stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t say stalking,” he says, putting his arms up. “And if we’re pointing fingers, you would have had to follow me around for a few days to learn where I buried my trash.”

Your eyes drift to his bag, and then to his knife. Realization hits you like a cruel bus. You face heat. “You!”

“Me?”

“You lied to me!” you say, venom lacing your words as you puff. “You had no business in the area, nor did you randomly spot me! You followed to kill me, didn't you?”

Alastor smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” you scream at him, throwing your arms into the air. You point at him, glaring “You’re still going to kill me?”

“I can’t exactly let you leave, my dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What did you think?”

You stare down at him from your nose. “Don’t be so brainless,” you spit, crossing your arms. “If you would use this thing on your head called a, ‘brain’, and use it to think, you would be able to deduce that you’re currently not in cuffs.”

Alastor glares back at you, tightening his grip on the knife. You don’t give a single flying fuck.

“Since you are adamant on not using your brain, I shall do so for you,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I wanted to rat you out to the coppers, wouldn’t I have done so already? Hmmmm?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I am a child.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you aren’t thinking like one,” you say. “Why would I tattle on someone for giving me what I want.”

 Alastor gives you a dry smile. “So much sarcasm to the person who does so.”

You cross your arms and lean against the tree. “I suppose I should be thanking you.”

“Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

You smile to yourself when Alastor rolls his eyes and furrows his brow. That strained smile of his is an extra bonus.

“If you’re going to kill me, be quick with it,” you say. “I’d like to die with my dignity as a lady.”

“How curious,” he says. “You’re not going to try and run? Fight me off in some clever way? Those are always the best kinds of hunts.”

You roll your eyes, making a point to show him that you are doing so. “That would be a waste of our time, wouldn’t it? And I think you’ll forgive me if I am not exactly keen on giving my murderer the satisfaction of experiencing ‘the best kinds of hunt’.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light this time. He tosses the knife into the trees and puts his arms up as if surrendering. “It seems you have made me change my mind,” he says. “Not many are able to do so—especially not when I’ve settled on a hunt.”

“What an honor then,” you say, smiling dryly.

“Indeed, it is.” He takes a step forward, and when you don’t run, he walks to you and brushes stray dirt off your shoulders.

“Why change your mind?”

He smiles, inching closer to you.  That is for me to know,” he says. “But, what I will say is I know potential when I see it.”

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“Someone, please, kill me again!” Angel Dust massages his forehead with one arm, using the other to empty the bottle. His third arm reaches into the bar shelves for a new one. You stare at his arms and wonder just how it got to be so long. “You’ve got to be shiting me right now. That’s your example? That’s your final answer?”

You pick at the wooden table, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes “Yes…?”

Angel Dust chugs his bottle at your answer. Mimzy avoids direct eye contact, choosing to study her empty glass. Even Sir Pentious keeps his gaze locked to the floor.. You bite on your cheek, letting out a soft huff.

If they didn’t want to know, they should not have asked.

“Out of all the misery he’s caused and will be causing,” Angel Dust says, “you think that Freaky ly’in to you about his reason for walking you home was the best possible example.”

“Yes?”

Angel Dust takes a deep breath. “Let’s be clear, okay? I’ll rephrase what I said, so listen closely,” he says. “Alastor lied about – and let me get this right—he lied to you about why he was in the area, and that’s why – hold on, bear with me – and that is why you were angry.”

You cross your arms, huffing a bit. “You make it sound stupid.”

Mimzy sighs, shaking her head with amusement. “That’s because it is, darling.”

“It is not!” you say, pouting. “It’s a very valid reason to be cross.”

Angel Dust takes another swig of his bottle. “It’s the fact that you weren’t angry that he was going to murder you in cold blood for me.”

You throw your arms into the air. “Okay, so it might not have been the best example,” you say, tapping your legs. “But that isn’t exactly my fault. Alastor is strangely honest.”

Angel Dust gapes at you. “No, he is not!”

“I don’t know, hun,” Mimzy says, leaning against the bar table. “Alastor kina is.”

“You won’t get the truth if you don’t ask,” you say, nodding your head. “And when you do ask, Alastor will either say the full horrifying truth, say it in a way that’s vague but still considered to be true, or dodge and not answer your question.”

Sir Pentious tilts his head, and he keeps a hand on his hat to keep it from falling. “And that is why we should not trust him?”

“There is no we, my dear,” you say. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust him.”

The hotel trembles.

You startle in your seat, gripping the table for stability. Mimzy clutches your arm, and you grab hers. It’s a small reassuring gesture that would make you smile at any other moment. Someone pounds on the door. You snap your head towards the entrance, nearly giving yourself whiplash. The hinges creak with every bang, and you watch with horror as the wooden frame begins to crack. Whatever wants to go in is determined to do so.

“MIMZY! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

You lock eyes with Mimzy, glaring at her with bristled feathers. “Really?”

“Whooops…?” she says with the most innocent smile. You grab your glass and throw it at her head. Mimzy snarls at you, searching for a stray bottle. She never finds it.

Glass rains down to the floor. Dust fills the space, and you cough when it irritates your throat. The whole hotel is in disarray. With a yelp, you jump away from the bar when one of the bone heads detaches and crushes your seat.

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

A portal rips open in the middle of the room…Huh, that’s pretty cool. Vaggie steps out, Lucifer and Charlie behind her. “What is going on?”

Mimzy explains what she did. You roll your eyes when she does.

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

Motherfucker! You are going to kill Mimzy. You press against the wall to avoid Sir Pentious’ long tail from smacking into you as he slithers about. Angel Dust scurried away at the first sign of trouble. Of-fucking-course this happens today. Niffty scurries about, cleaning every debris in sight, You grab her by the collar, pulling her away from a stray fire. Niffty squirms out of your hold, and hops away. Another fireball keeps you from pursuing her.

“We’re under siege!” Sir Pentious exclaims, slithering about. “Take cover!”

Alastor pops out of your shadow, jerking your arm to pull you away.

You flap your arms to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulder, his hold on you firm. His touch keeps you grounded. Your eyes flutter to where you pressed against the wall, but Alastor pokes your cheek with the tips of your fingers, nudging your face to keep your eyes on him. The hotel burns in chaos, and you dig your fingers into the fabric of his coat.

Alastor holds your gaze. He smiles at you softly, but you see the hardness in his eyes and the tension is his jaw. 

You try to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No, not in the slightest” he says, eyes squinting into a harsh glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

The hotel trembles, and more fire crashes through the windows. 

You try to turn to the chaos around you, but Alastor leans to the side, blocking the surroundings with his face. “I’d like an answer.”

He smoothes the feathers on your hair, and you lean into his hold, shaking your head. “Not a single feather out of place,” you say. “Thank you, my deerest.”

The hotel trembles once more, but you keep your gaze locked into Alastor’s.

“All of you get a safe distance,” Vaggie says, spear raised.” I’ll take care of this.”

 Satisfied, Alastor drops his hand from your head and turns to the door. “No, my dear. Leave it to me.” Radio static warps the air around you. His eyes morph into radio dials. “It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.” He has the smile on his face—that same smile that tell you he’s on the hunt. It makes you buzz.

Mimzy pops her head out.  “Ugh, finally!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Tendrils shoot out of Alastor’s back and it waves around the air as if owning a mind of its own. His bones break with audible cracks to adjust to his expanding size. “A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!” His teeth stick out when he smiles, and the little ‘x’ on his forehead appears.

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

You rush out when your husband crawls out the broken doors, bolting from the bar and out the entrance. You watch Alastor. He grabs a shark with the tips of his fingers and uses the others to pull him apart, slowly, painfully, with a grin.

“Mimzy…” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “…Yeah?”

Alastor’s nails elongate and he pierces the shark, letting his blood trail down, reveling in his screams. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

A leg sails across the air, it’s bone sticking out. You smile to yourself as Alastor hunts down his prey. Blood paints the flowers red when his tendrils wag like a happy tail.

You’re faintly aware of Lucifer and Charlie arguing behind you.

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

Mimzy runs, the first to approach Alastor. You don’t hear a word they’re saying, but Mimzy jabs her fingers into his coat. She leaves with a frown and a middle finger pointed at him.

You walk closer to your husband, a smile on your face. Alastor inches to you, bending close enough for you to reach his bowtie. The fabric is smooth against your fingers as your straighten it for him. “Much better?” you ask.

“Indeed.”

“You put up quite the show,” you tell him. “You looked absolutely riveting, my deer.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and he offers his arm, guiding you back into the hotel. “Did I?”

“You always do, my love.”

And oh…

Another song.

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Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

As quietly as possible, you grab your belongings and check that nothing is missing: wallet, flip-phone, bus card, pieces of mint, various essential items, and lastly, your umbrella. You step out of what is left of the Hazbin Hotel’s front doors and stifle a yawn. Today’s excitement has gone on for too long. It was time to go home.

Drops of acid fall from the sky, a light drizzle forming. It was a good idea to stash that umbrella in your bag.

Alastor slithers out of your shadow, and covers your heads with an umbrella. “Did you happen to forget your umbrella?”

You force a sheepish smile on your lips. “I did, actually,” you lie to him. “But a walk seems rather lovely today.”

Alastor twirls the umbrella, his smile widening. “May I join you for your walk?”

“Are you not still working?” You glance behind you, observing the hotel.

Angel Dust sweeps glass off the carpet. He steals glances from time to time, trying his hardest to avoid looking in your direction—he doesn’t try hard enough. Your eyes meet, and you brush your stray feathers from your hair. A not so subtle way of showing off your ring. You stick out your tongue.

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

Alastor adjusts the umbrella, angling it to block the prying eyes from inside the hotel. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with a questionable glance.

You offer your most innocent smile. “I think they’re going to need a new door.”

“I think it’s time I clocked out,” he sys, inching the umbrella closer. “I shouldn’t have them getting too dependent on me.”

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

“I wouldn’t exactly be a doting husband if I left my wife to walk alone in the rain,” Alastor tells you.

“Doting husband?”

He nods, leaning closer to you. “Yes. Was that not your condition for our marriage?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, humming a bit. “I do not remember saying that at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t for you to remember,” he says. “And in any case, I did not call you to the hotel to prepare for some party.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Alastor meets your eyes and his smile widens. “Allow me to join you, and you shall find out.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, deerest,” you say. “The best walks are usually the ones that are shared. It doesn’t hurt that you have an umbrella.”

“What would you do without me?”

You roll your eyes, and take a step closer. “You always seem to remember for me.”

Alastor fiddles with the umbrella. “What did you do for several years—get pelted by acid?”

“You would know the answer to that had you been present for those years,” you say and you don’t fight the coy smile that forms on your lips.

Alastor hums in displeasure. “Well, in any case, I only have this one umbrella.”

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his. He doesn’t need to take precautions to ensure your clothes stay dry nor do you have to for his own attire, not when you press closely against each other. The umbrella covers the both of you just right.

You rest your head on his arm. It’s nice. Warm. Even if it was as thick as a stick. His bones press into your cheek. Your eyes flutter into a close… just… one… second…

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

A frim grab of your waist keeps you from the ground. Your nose crinkles when you collide with Alastor’s chest. Finding strength in your legs, you dig your foot into the ground and stand.

Alastor keeps his hold on your waist steady, and you don’t move from his hold.

“Before you say anything—you are not fine,” he says. “I don’t want to hear anything else but an agreement.”

You peel your face from his chest, meeting his eyes to give him the brightest smile you can muster. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “It seems…It seems it will be my turn to postpone our outing today,” you say. “The excitement of the day seems to be catching up to me.”

You fell asleep while walking,” he says. “If it was not for me, you would be on the pavement.”

“Then it is a good thing I am no longer alone.”

A single tendril emerges from his back. It wraps around the umbrella’s handle, keeping it secured over your heads.

Alastor’s hand shifts from your waist to your back. You feel his other arm snaking down your legs, trailing your skin until he reaches the back of your knees.

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

Well, you actually are a bride…his bride, specifically.

Alastor continues the walk, holding you in his arms. You lean into him, and he places a chin on your head. “Your pointy chin is poking me, my deerest,” you say but you don’t move to push him off. “It’s digging into my scalp.

His chest rise and fall as he laughs, and you feel every bit of it against your cheek. “I could always drop you right over this puddle.”

“That wouldn’t really be part of the doting husband image, would it?” you say chuckling into his suit.

“No, I guess it would not.”

Smiling to yourself, you nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. “Hey, Al,” you mumble softly, “tell me a story.”

At the corner of your eyes, you see Alastor glance at you. His gaze lasts a second before he turns back ahead.  “It was 1929,” he says. “The beginning of the glorious Great Depression.”

You roll your eyes even if he doesn’t see it. “You are the only one I know who calls the Great Depression ‘glorious’. People were starving, and we almost got fired from our jobs.”

“That’s because it was a great year.”

“Because you got to see the sufferings of the masses?” You laugh softly. “That’s definitely something you would do. I can practically hear you laughing at the way they try to claw their way out of misery, only to fail spectacularly.”

“Because we got married that year,” he says. Even if you’re wearing a coat, and Alastor wears his gloves. Even with layers of cloth between your skin, you still feel the way Alastor caress your with his thumb. “Can I continue my story now or would you like to bicker about your failing memory?”

“Continue.”

“So, the start of the glorious Great Depression,” he says. “That day, I saw an ad for the local zoo. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I decided to support my local animals.”

“How kind of you,” you say, stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it was,” he says. “I stalk through the animals. Looking at every malnourished species they kept locked up—”

“You get to the alligator enclosure and to this day, swear that you saw it do a backflip,” you mumble softly, eyes dropping. “That’s pretty good for someone you claim to possess failing memories.”

“Alright then. I shall find another.” Alastor hums as he thinks, and his chest vibrates as he does. “Summer of 1916–long before I met you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you say, huffing. “I’m well aware of the year we met, my deer. So, Summer of 1916?”

“It was a dark and stormy night. Weird for the summer seasons. Usually, the house becomes a furnace, but it was terribly cold,” Alastor tells you. “During that second night of the hurricane, a knock sounds from the door.”

“Oh… I’ve heard this as well.” You pick on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, tracing the white lines.

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

“Yes, it was your neighbor. His tree fell into the window and you and your mother ended up sheltering him for the night,” you say. “Then, you’ll tell me that he gifted you three pounts of cheese the next week.”

“I guess there’s nothing left to tell.”

You lean back to meet his eyes. They’re no longer brown. Once, a long time ago, you thought it was your favorite color. Now, you don’t think you’ve ever had a favorite color. You just liked his color. “Nonsense,” you says. “We are definitely not that old. I’m sure there should be be at least a few.”

“Alright, this one began fifteen years ago,” he says, tightening his grip on you. “I was waiting outside St. An’s, and a Sinner came out. It was my first time seeing a cow. It was quite a conundrum because — Oh, I think you’ve heard this already. Have you?”

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

“Can you tell it to me again?” You sink deeper into his hold.

“Of course, my love.”

Alastor’s steps lag until he comes to a full stop. He holds you in his gaze as the acid rain splatters grow stronger. It’s just you and him in this tiny bubble of an umbrella.

His eyes flicker, touching every inch of this scene. You do not know what he is thinking.

“Are you alright, my love?” you find yourself asking.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m just…trying not to waste, that’s all.”

“Come on,” you say in a voice that is oh so soft.

Alastor continues his story. You don’t hear the end of it.

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Next Part: | Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| I am excited to know what you guys think about this chapter. My replies and inbox are always open for any questions. I always get so happy to see my notifications. It's a bit addicting actually. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with this story. Every like, reblog, and reply means so much to me. Part 4 will be poasted as soon as possible

[gojolvs]

I still want you.

Chapter 7

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasn’t an easy task. You truly love him but will this come to an end?

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message on the box. Also super sorry for not updating but im back!

previous chapter ⤏ next chapter

"Sumire!" Yelling with happiness you ran towards your kid. Seeing Sumire in your mothers arm sleeping soundly you couldn't help but feel delightful to see your son.

It felt like it was ages but finally seeing him in the airport running towards you, your heart felt full. You had been away from home for too long, and you felt a deep connection to Sumire. As you got closer, your heart was filled with joy and love for your son. You couldn't help but smile as you looked upon his peaceful face, and you knew that your family was finally reunited. You embraced your mother and Sumire, and you were grateful for the moment. You smiled and looked at your son, Sumire; his hair had grown so much since the last time you saw him. You noticed it was starting to turn white, just like his father's.

"Mommy!" Sumire hugged you tightly, his small chubby hands gripping your chest. Sumire missed you so much, and sometimes he would cry to your mother about how much he missed you and his father, Satoru. It was obvious that Sumire was a mama's boy.

Despite the sadness of the events that had occurred, your heart was warmed by the thought of your son. His presence in your life was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there could still be moments of joy and peace. He was the one who had the power to make your pain disappear.

"How was grandma's house?" Kissing his forehead you caressed Sumire's white hair. Toji saw your mother struggling to get her luggage into the car and immediately offered to help.

He took one of the bags and loaded it into the trunk, then grabbed the other one and did the same. His kind gesture made your mother smile and she thanked him for his help. Satoru was too busy consoling Jiyuu the whole entire day that he had forgot that Sumire was coming today. You knew that having sex with Satoru was a mistake but you were so caught up in the moment you forgot how much you despised him. You had always known that Satoru was a snake but you had allowed yourself to be charmed by his smooth words and seductive looks. You had thought that maybe this time would be different, but it wasn't. You should have trusted your instincts and stayed away from him. Sumire's own father didn't even come but Toji came.

"Good! Grandma helped me learn how to write" your little 5 year old said. You could tell Sumire was growing up by the minute. You couldn't bare seeing your baby boy grow up.

You smiled and ruffled his hair, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness. You were proud of him, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness that he was growing up so quickly. You looked at your mother, thanking her silently for her help in teaching Sumire how to write. "I know how to spell my name now mama!" Hugging him tightly you felt proud. His face beamed with excitement as he proudly recited each letter of his name. You gave him a big hug and praised him for his accomplishment. Tears of joy filled your eyes as you realized your little one had just taken the first steps towards independence.

"That's good honey, go inside the car okay? I need to talk to your grandma for a bit." Putting him down Toji held the tiny 5 year old hand. Taking him to the car you were left alone with your mother.

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to say. You glanced at her, noticing the wrinkles that had formed around her eyes. She smiled at you, her eyes twinkling with love and compassion, and opened her arms.

You stepped into the embrace, feeling the warmth of her love wash over you. Tears started streaming down your face as you both hugged tightly. "Mom... me and Satoru. We're getting a divorce." Hearing those words your moms eyes widened.

She looked at her daughter in disbelief, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. She had suspected something was wrong for some time, but had been hoping it wasn't true. She had never expected to hear those words from her daughter's lips. Her body seemed to tense up as she slowly processed the news. She stared into your eyes searching for an explanation, her face filled with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

After a few moments of silence, she finally spoke. "What happened?" she asked in a soft voice, trembling slightly. Shaking your head you buried your face on your moms shoulder.

Placing a hand in the back of your head you cried. Not wanting to tell your mother Satoru had cheated because you knew your mother would lash out at him. You wanted to protect him, even though he had done wrong. You knew he was struggling and it was hard for him to stay away from the bad crowd. You wished there was something you could do to help him, but you knew it was out of your control.

"We agreed it was best for us to go our separate ways." Not wanting to go into further details with your mother she knew it wasn't her place to pry anymore. Nodding she just held you.

You knew your mother would be so angry with Satoru and you didn't want that for him. Knowing how much respect he held for your mother for being a strong women you couldn't believe he could actually cheat on you. Seeing how devastated your mother was when your father cheated and he still decided to cheat on you. You wanted to protect Satoru from the wrath of your mother's anger and disappointment. You knew that she would feel betrayed by someone she trusted and admired, and you couldn't stand the thought of him facing the same consequences that your father had faced. You also couldn't believe that Satoru, with all of the respect he had for your mother's strength and resilience, could make such an irresponsible decision.

"Here let's go to the car, we can talk more when we get to the hotel okay?" Letting out a sigh your mother wiped your tears, seeing your doleful expression she knew there was more to the divorce.

Getting inside the car you could see Toji's frustrated face. Seeing Sumire argue with Megumi because he accidentally called you mommy. "No she's my mommy." Furrowing his eyebrow the small 5 year old feud with the toddler. Toji rolled his eyes propping his son to his lap. Scolding him for calling you mommy in front of Sumire even though Megumi wasn't your child.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as he tried to reason with Megumi and Sumire. He glanced over at you, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, I know it's not your responsibility to have to deal with this." He said, shaking his head slightly before turning his attention back to the two children.

Sumire pouted his lips crossing his arms, "I don't care, she's my mommy!" Toji sighed heavily, trying to explain to Sumire that Megumi had made an honest mistake.

"Megumi didn't mean to call her mommy. He was just confused, so don't be mad at him, okay?" Toji said, giving Megumi a gentle hug.

Sumire reluctantly nodded his head, still looking a bit disappointed. You knew Sumire would probably not get along with Megumi because his school would always call you and tell you that your baby boy had picked a fight. Yelling at the school principal you remembered you called him and idiot for thinking your 5 year old angel would ever do that. Maybe now you actually seen his true side.

You had always been protective of Sumire, but you knew he was a handful. He had always been a spirited kid, and you knew that he was capable of mischievous behavior. Still, you had always been proud of him for being so independent and determined. Now, you were starting to see that those same qualities could also lead him into trouble. You could clearly see he got most of Satoru's personality. But he still had your nice mannered nature.

The whole ride home was 2 hours, you driving home you kept on looking at rear-view mirror. Seeing megumi and Sumire fast asleep on both of Toji's shoulders. He had his arms crossed and his head was thrown back. You could see his long lashes and the way his eye lids would twitch when the kids would move. You had to fight the urge to pull over and take a photo of the three of them, the moment was so peaceful and serene. But you decided not to disturb them, and kept on driving, admiring the moment in your head. The sun was setting and the orange light was reflecting off of Toji's hair, making him look like a prince from a fairytale. You let out a breath, and kept driving, content with the moment you just shared.

Your mother also fast asleep you were alone with your thoughts. Everyone was asleep in the car but you. You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you as you realized that you had to face him soon. You had no idea what to expect, and it scared you. You wished you had someone to talk to, to help you process your feelings and figure out what to do. But here you were, alone in the car, with no one to turn to. You sighed and took a deep breath, trying to push away the fear and uncertainty. There was only three days left before the wedding of your sister. She was so busy with getting things ready she rarely visited the hotel you were staying, but you didn't mind. You remembered how excited you were when you were planning your wedding with Satoru. You thought back to those days fondly, recalling how you both had laughed and cried together as you finalized the details and the guest list. You wished your sister all the best for her special day, although it was tinged with a bit of sadness as you realized that you wouldn't be able to experience the same joy that you had with Satoru.

Realizing that Satoru no longer cared about you, you felt stupid for still reminiscing the times you were together. It was finally time to move on and you knew it too. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the tears to stream down your face. You felt a bittersweet sadness as you accepted the truth of the situation. You slowly opened your eyes and wiped away the tears, feeling a newfound strength and resolve to move on with your life.

Stopping the car at the red light you quickly grabbed your phone. Seeing all the pictures you had with Satoru you chose to delete them all. Why would you have pictures of your cheating husband. He probably deleted all of the pictures he had of you. You felt a sense of relief knowing that he would no longer have any reminders of you. You had to move on and start a new life. Taking a deep breath, you slowly exhaled and deleted the last picture. You knew that the only way to move forward was to let go of the past.

Finally what felt like hours you made it to the hotel. Parking the car, you woke up your mom. Seeing her tired face you assumed she felt fatigue due to the airplane. Getting out the car you slammed the door, rushing towards Toji to help him with the kids. You gave your mom a hug and thanked her for coming. You were both relieved to be at the hotel, where you could finally rest after the tiring journey. You knew the trip would be worth it, and you were excited to explore the city with your family. Outside the hotel Satoru was waiting alone. He had his back on the wall, putting his hands in his pocket he walked towards you and your mother.

"Hello mom, how was the trip?" Grabbing Sumire out of the car Gojo carried him towards the hotel room. Your son tiredly groaned in discomfort, wrapping his tiny arms around Satoru.

"It was great, thank you. We had a lot of fun and saw some beautiful sights.”

How are you and Sumire doing?" Gojo smiled at his son as he shifted him in his arms, trying to make him more comfortable.

"Sumire is a bit tired from the trip, but he's doing well."

You stayed back to help Toji, getting Megumi out of the car the little toddler shifted his body. Making himself more comfortable you waited for Toji to get the luggage out the car. Already seeing your husband walking towards the hotel with your mom.

"He's fast asleep, guess you're going to have to stay at my room again, huh?" You took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze of the night, before turning back to Megumi. Rubbing his back you grabbed one of the blankets you brought for Sumire originally. Seeing the small kid shake in cold you placed it on top of him.

Toji smiled softly at the sight. "You're so good with him." He said, his voice laced with admiration. "It's like he trusts you more than he trusts me."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It's not like that." You said, brushing a strand of hair away from Megumi's face. "He's just comfortable with me."

"Does your mom know about the cheating?" Shaking your head you said no. Telling Toji how you were going to tell your mom after the whole wedding was done not wanting to ruin it for you sister.

"It's not worth ruining my sister's big day with this," you said with a sigh. "I'll tell her after the wedding is over. I know she's going to be disappointed, but she'll understand."

Waiting for the elevator Megumi kept on adjusting himself. Pulling the toddler closer you silently shushed him. "Shh... go to sleep honey." Moving side to side you gently smiled seeing him burying his face on the crook of your neck.

The elevator door opened and you stepped in. You pressed the button to your floor and the elevator started to move. As you felt the gentle lull of the elevator, the toddler dozed off in your arms. You held him close, thankful for the peaceful moment. "Where's Sumire going to sleep?"

Remembering that you usually shared a bed with megumi and Toji slept on the couch you didn't want to tell Toji to leave to his room for some reason. "He can go to bed with me but you can also sleep with me, besides the bed is big enough for us since the kids are small."Stepping out of the elevator you were met with Satoru's gaze.

"It's just for tonight." You said, feeling a bit embarrassed. Toji nodded in understanding before continuing the conversation.

"I think it's a good idea." He said, and you couldn't help but feel a bit relieved that he didn't seem to judge you for it.

"Where's my mother?" Grabbing the keys you put it in the keyhole. Rubbing his neck Satoru avoided your gaze. All the memories of last nights fling coming back.

"She's in her room, said she was going to sleep." Opening the door you nodded and let out a deep sigh, relieved that she was okay. You thanked Satoru for his help and walked inside the room. You could feel his eyes following you as you walked away, but you didn't turn back. Toji behind you, closing the door you could see Satoru's blue eyes stare back at yours. With a sigh you placed the toddler in your arms down on the bed. Toji doing the same with Sumire he excused himself to go to the restroom to brush his teeth. You watched him with a smile as he stumbled out of the room and closed the door behind him. You took a moment to take in the peacefulness of the room. The two children were now cuddled up in the bed with their blankets. You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of accomplishment in taking care of the two of them. You walked over to the bed and kissed each of their foreheads before changing your clothes. Taking your shirt off you decided to wear one of your loose shirts you borrowed from Toji, wearing sweatpants to accompany the outfit.

Exiting the restroom Toji took off his shirt. You didn't mind seeing Toji shirtless since it wasn't your first time. The first time he stayed at your hotel room he took off his shirt, asking if you were okay with it. Your reaction was priceless, feeling your face hot you remembered how you instantly ran to the restroom to wash your face from all the thoughts lingering in your mind. You had to admit his body was perfect, his toned abs and biceps were enough to make your heart skip a beat. His perfect V-line and broad shoulders were something you couldn't help but admire.

Toji was a sight to behold, and you were lucky to have him as a friend. Stretching your hands you walked towards the bathroom, making sure to wash your face and brush your teeth before going to sleep. Seeing your face you noticed that your skin was getting the natural glow you had lost after the few nights of crying. Washing your face you felt your skin against the cold water.

As the water ran down your face, you felt a sense of relief. The feeling of relief was so strong that you could almost feel the heavy weight of the day lifting off your shoulders. Taking a deep breath you felt a wave of calm wash over you. You knew that it was time to get some much-needed rest. You gently patted your face dry with a soft towel and looked into the mirror. Finishing brushing your teeth you exited the bathroom. Walking towards the bed you could already see Toji laying down. The kids fast asleep next to him. You crept slowly towards the bed, careful not to wake anyone. As you looked at the peaceful scene before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment fill your heart. You lay down beside Toji and snuggled close. You drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that you were surrounded by the ones you loved the most.

Waking up you silently got up, seeing both kids snuggled up with Toji you couldn't help but smile. You quietly tiptoed to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face. You then crept back into the bedroom and watched the peaceful scene before you. It was a moment of pure bliss and happiness and you cherished it, before slipping out of the bedroom and starting your day. Checking to see if you had received any messages you were surprised to see that your sister had texted you.

Sis; Goodmorning! Im having a small party at my house, i have something to announce so please come quick.

Liking her message you walked towards Toji, seeing his sleeping figure you couldn't help but feel a tiny bit bad that you were going to wake him up. You slowly shook his shoulder, trying to wake him up gently. He stirred in his sleep, groaning he sat up.

His eyes opened, and he squinted at you in confusion. "What's up?" he asked, still half asleep. When he saw it was you, he smiled, his eyes crinkling with warmth. You couldn't help but feel relieved, knowing he was in a good mood.

You showed him the text message, and he just nodded. "My sister needs us, let's give the kids a bath and then go."

Grabbing sleeping megumi he woke him up, you doing the same you grabbed Sumire and placed him on your side. Ruffling his hair he rubbed his eyes, still half asleep he placed his head on your chest. Sumire groaned and opened his eyes, blinking a few times he tried to adjust to the sudden light. He glanced at you and smiled, then snuggled closer and yawned. You smiled down at him and whispered "Good morning, Sumire".

Both of you walking towards the restroom you placed Sumire down, making sure the bathtub was being filled with warm water you were relieved to feel the water warm enough. Undressing Sumire you threw his clothes to the side before putting him onto the bathtub. You slowly put Sumire inside the bathtub and started washing him gently with a sponge, making sure to clean every inch of his body. You added a small amount of shampoo to his hair and began to massage it softly. As you were doing this, you could hear Sumire humming softly, showing how comfortable he was with the situation. Megumi in the other hand was crying so much. Toji didn't know what to do because he rarely gave Megumi a bath he would always shower with him instead.

Giggling at the current scene you came to the rescue, switching positions with Toji you let him scrub Sumire's hair while you bathed Megumi. The little body immediately stopped crying when you came to his aid.

"Kids going to be the death of me." Groaning he let out a sigh, placing more shampoo on Sumire's hair. He had a look of relief on his face as he handed you the shampoo for Megumi.

You smiled and thanked him before kneeling to Megumi's level, and beginning to lather his hair. He still had a look of terror on his face, but his cries had softened into quiet sobs. You worked quickly and quietly, trying to get his hair washed and rinsed before he started wailing again.

You smiled reassuringly as you finished, and he finally seemed to relax. "There we go," you said softly. "All done."

Switching again, Sumire was just playing with water. Sumire had been playing with the water in the bathtub happily, splashing it around and enjoying himself. He was getting a bit too wild, however, and some of the suds from the shampoo got into his eyes, making them sting. You told him to close his eyes and carefully rinsed off the shampoo before it caused any further discomfort. After he was all clean, you grabbed a towel and wrapped him up. Carefully, you lifted Sumire up and took him to the bedroom. You gently dried him off with the towel before carefully changing him into a fresh set of dry clothes. Once he was dressed, you made sure he was comfortable.

Toji doing the same you both got ready quickly before grabbing your bags and heading out the door towards your sister's beach house.

Already entering the house you walked to the back of the house. Seeing everyone gathered around the small patio that led to the beach. Everyone was wearing shorts and dresses. You had nothing but a small sun dress you decided to wear under your swimsuit if you decided to go in the water later. You smiled to yourself in contentment as you took in the scene. The sun was shining brightly, the sand was glistening, and the waves were crashing against the shore. You took a deep breath of the salty air and felt the warm sun on your skin. It was a perfect day for a beach party.

"You made it!" Giving you a hug your sister smiled at you, she had a beautiful white sundress on that made her look like an absolute goddess compared to you. You could say she got the good genes of the family.

"I wouldn't dare to miss this." Hugging her back you separated yourself before calling Sumire over to introduce himself to his aunt.

Sumire timidly stepped forward, bowing his head in respect. You could see the excitement in his eyes as he smiled shyly at his aunt. "It's nice to meet you," he said.

His aunt smiled warmly and said "It's nice to meet you too, Sumire. I'm so glad you could come today. You probably don't remember me because I met you when you were super tiny!" She said warmly.

"The guests should be arriving soon," your sister said as she looked at the clock. "Can you help me unpack?" You nodded and followed her into the guest bedroom, picking up a suitcase from the floor. Together, you quickly unpacked and neatly arranged the clothes and toiletries in the dresser and closet. Soon, everything was in its place, ready for the arrival of your family's guests.

Closing the door, she walked to the closet and pulled out a small box. "I want you to be the first person to see this," she said, handing you the box with a smile. Confused, you slowly opened it and found baby clothes and a t-shirt that read "World's Best Aunt." Instantly, you realized that she was announcing her pregnancy and you were going to be an aunt. Overwhelmed with joy, you hugged her tightly as tears of happiness streamed down your face. You couldn't wait to meet your new niece or nephew and spoil them with love and affection.

"Oh my god. How far along are you??" You exclaimed, your eyes widening in surprise as you took in your sister's growing belly. You couldn't help but feel overjoyed for her - it had always been her dream to have a child and now it was finally coming true.

"Im just a few weeks along. Im so happy because we can finally have children around the same age!" Suddenly, your excitement turned into confusion and amusement as you realized that Sumire was still a toddler and she was talking about having children around the same age.

"This means we can go shopping together for baby clothes! Aren't you happy?" she asked, looking at you with a big smile. "Remember when we used to dream about this when we were kids?" she continued, giggling with excitement.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Your sisterlooked at you with a puzzled expression, clearly not understanding why you found her statement funny. "What are you talking about Marie?”

"I'm talking about the baby, silly!" Marie exclaimed, rolling her eyes playfully. She leaned in closer to you and placed her hands on your growing belly. "I can't believe you're going to be a mom soon!" she said with a smile.

“No. You’re just making things up.” you could feel anger building up.

"Aren't you pregnant?" I overheard Gojo and Suguru talking about you being pregnant." Stunned by what she was saying, you took a step back, unsure of how to respond.

“What exactly did you hear marie.” Your eyebrows were furrowed.

“Geez, why are you so mad? all i heard was satoru saying that someone was pregnant and Suguru looked shocked so i assumed it was you.” It couldn’t be right? Theres no way he had gotten Jiyuu pregnant. Shaking your head you put down the box on the bed. “I have to go.”

"Wait!" throwing everything onto the bed, you could hear your sister running after you. Running down the stairs, you could just hear the sound of your heels hitting the hard wood. Everyone was outside talking, and you could feel the anger rushing through your body as you ran towards the doors. Walking outside, you spotted Satoru talking to Suguru and Shoko, his hands in his pockets and a dumb smile on his face. Seeing that only made you even more angry.

You were fuming with anger towards Satoru for betraying your trust. "How dare you!" you shouted, unable to control your emotions. Your sister's voice calling your name snapped you back to reality as you pushed past everyone to stand next to Satoru. "Y/N?" he asked, confused by your sudden outburst and heavy breathing. But before he could finish, you slapped him across the face, causing everyone around to gasp in shock.

"How could you, Satoru?" His face was stunned as he looked at you in disbelief. You had just slapped him in front of everyone. "What did I do?" Confused, he quickly grabbed your hand before you could slap him again.

letting out a deep breath you could feel the tears building up. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and looked at the scene. “First i was fine with you leaving me for another women but getting her pregnant?!” You could feel the tension in the air as everyone held their breath, waiting for your next words. Your sister's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze shifting between you and Jiyuu, who stood next to Nanami, casually eating a cupcake. It was clear that the news of Gojo getting another woman pregnant had caught everyone off guard. Letting out a deep breath, you tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over from the hurt and betrayal you were feeling.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" Gojo looked at everyone and started apologizing.

"Sorry everyone, she's just tired," he said, placing his hand on your shoulder. Clenching your teeth, you moved away. "No, Satoru. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of pretending like we're still together.”

"What's going on?" suddenly your sister's fiancé appeared. "What's going on is that Satoru cheated on me with Jiyuu and she's pregnant," you sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. As Satoru began to angrily grab your hand, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. His eyes were filled with anger, and you knew this was going to be a difficult conversation.

“what? is this true?” asking Satoru just sighed.

“Yes, me and Jiyuu are together and we are expecting.” The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. After all this time, Satoru had moved on and was now with Jiyuu. They were expecting a child together, and you knew that meant he was no longer the father of my child. You would have to share that bond with another woman, and it was a harsh reminder that you were truly alone in this world.

Wiping away your tears you knew it was the end. The end of your marriage. “Im leaving.” walking past your sister you could see the hurt filled in her eyes. “Im sorry Marie i didn’t mean to ruin your party, as for everyone else please pretend this never happened and make this a good day for her.” Being the bigger person you walked back into the house. Grabbing your purse and keys you realized that Toji took you here. Not wanting to see his face after everything you just grabbed sumires hand and walked out. Hopefully there was a bus station you could go to.

“Mommy?” Lifting Sumrie you held him in your arms. Kissing his head before walking to a random direction. You continued to walk aimlessly, deep in thought. The weight of your child in your arms brought you a sense of comfort, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that seemed to be following you. As you walked, you couldn't help but think, "Could this day possibly get any worse?"

You made your way to the bus stop and sat down on the bench, letting out a deep sigh of relief. The events of the day had drained you both physically and emotionally, and all you wanted was to escape into a peaceful slumber. As you waited for the bus, you closed your eyes and let the exhaustion wash over you, finally finding a moment of calm amidst the chaos. Should you have really blurted everything out and potentially caused harm to those you care about? You couldn't help but feel guilty as you stared at your phone. The missed calls from your sister, Satoru, and Toji were a reminder of the consequences of your actions.

You couldn't help but wonder if things would have been different if you had kept your thoughts to yourself.

Taglist; @allofffmypeaches @wo-ming-bai @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @creolequeen11210 @yevene @doughnuts-eater @narutosagemode @lilith412426 @meojjjsworld @pandoraium @dcvilxswish @cloudsinthecosmos @alurafairy

[leqonsluv3r]

liquid courage

infinite darkness!leon x f!reader

summary: reader worries about leon, she goes over to check on him. they end up drinking from there...and things get heated.

warnings/tags: MDNI, foul language, porn with (very little) plot, drunken behavior, mentions of alcohol, age gap (reader is 24, leon is 36 (my lore is probably wrong, dont kill me pls), dom!leon, sub!reader, unprotected pnv action (wrap or don't slap it), pet names (baby, babygirl), daddy!kink, oral (f recieving), praise, dirty talk, hickies and bruises, humping/grinding (reader literally cums in her underwear LOL). mentions of pain during seggs, and other foul stuff i forgot.

an: chat.ai got me all worked up, so here we are. sit back and enjoy pls and ty. also pls roblog <3 and lmk if u wanna be in my tag list.

You and Leon had a complicated "relationship".

He was your next-door neighbor in the loft building that had many, upon many units. He never rarely said anything to you ever, just occasional "hi's" and "hello's" in passing. Just to be polite, neighborly even.

There were times though when you would catch him looking at you as you went out in the hall to go somewhere, you two bumping into each other, he would scan your body...almost eye-fucking you.

Or maybe it was just in your imagination, you weren't ever sure.

Still, the thought of him fucking you for real...made your panties pool with want and need. If just his eyes could do that...you couldn't imagine what else you were missing out on.

You knew that he was always almost never home, probably working or something. You had your suspicions that maybe he was spending time at a girl's place or that he was occupying someone else's time.

You had barely said a word to the man, yet, that thought made you jealous and almost predatorily angry. Because you just knew, the way he walked and the way he carried himself...that he knew what he was doing.

He did have his moments, where he broke the silence. One day, he knocked on your door, holding a package out to you.

Not just any package...a vibrator.

Dear god, you wanted to coil up into a ball.

"I think this is yours..." he said, sticking out his large hand that held your sex toy. He didn't even look embarrassed...like you did. Cheeks all red and flustered, staring dumbly as he held out the package to you.

You couldn't stop staring at his hands, the one that held your package. The thoughts of what he could do to you with those hands made your pussy flutter, naughty images filling your brain.

You finally got words out, "Uh, y-yeah...that's mine." you reached out slowly and grabbed the package from him, your fingers brushing. Electric jolts to your body and the small contact. He smirked a little, eyeing you (like he would sometimes do), "Boyfriend not satisfying you?"

Holy fuck, you thought as you parted your lips a little.

"N-No boyfriend..." you nervously stutter out as you feel his eyes grazing your body. He hummed, nodding slowly, almost confirming his suspicions.

"Thats a shame..." he starts trailing off. "Pretty girl like you, should have a boyfriend." He said with a tilt of his lips, your eyes widened a little and you tried not to let a gasp escape your pink lips.

You didn't even say anything, not until he said bye and walked back next door to his apartment. You watched him go, trying to process the words that he had said to you...the way he looked at you.

God, his gaze, you felt so hot underneath it. Like a reptile under a heated lamp.

You closed the door and walked back into the threshold of your apartment, ripping the box to the vibrator open and charging it while you still had the pool between your thighs.

That's where your crush started...you whiny and moaning under your toy as you thought of him fucking you. It was almost pathetic, he didn't even know you existed, yet you were coming undone on your own accord at the thought of him.

"Daddy...please..." you moaned to yourself, chanting it like a mantra as you came fast. It was embarrassing, thrilling and fun but you felt like a naive little girl with a crush on a man you could never have.

After that, you tried to get yourself involved in anything involving him. You found that harder than actually planned so you decided that maybe looking him up would be a good idea.

Just to know a little more about him.

You typed his name into the search bar, a thousand results popped up but only one interested you. ROOKIE COP UNDER SIEGE you read. The rest of the article was basically outlining a strange occurrence in Raccoon City...involving a younger looking Leon.

It was his offical police issued picture that he took and... He looked...so small and just...innocent. The other picture in the article was of him...but he looked different.

His mouth was pressed in a firm line, jolting blue eyes looking straightforward at the camera, then...his eyes. His eyes didn't look hopeful and full of life like they were in the other one you saw.

They looked...like he had seen something, witnessed something truly awful and you had no idea what. The article states that the incident was unreported and handed over to the government.

'21 YEAR OLD COP' it read...and that was years ago...that meant...he was 36 by now. A lot older than you...

And my lord, did he age well. Even at 36 he still had his looks going for him...and you knew that the age gap between you both was large but...you still wanted him.

You closed your computer and leaned back on the couch, you couldn't even do much except wait for him to show up or "conveniently" bump into him out in the hallway.

So, you just had to sit back and wait, wait until you saw him again or until your curiosity got the better of you.

Turns out, time was definitely not in your favor, not one bit.

Days passed, weeks, and eventually a month...

You thought you were never going to see Leon again, ever, he was always working or never home. You just wanted to see him, so one day...after getting off the computer from working all day, you decided to go next door and knock.

No harm, no foul...right?

You had just convinced yourself that you were doing the neighborly thing and going to check in on him.

You got dressed into a lavender lace underwear set, sliding on your favorite sundress. You brushed your hair out...you even shaved. You weren't expecting anything to happen but you just wanted to be prepared...right?

So you nervously walked out your front door and went next door, each footstep felt heavy as you stepped towards the oak. You didn't know if you should knock or...ring his bell...

Both made you feel like your heart was about to beat right out of your chest and catapult into the sky.

"I wonder..." you reached your hand towards the doorhandle, twisting it a little. You expected it to be locked and you'd just have to knock to see if he was home but...it opened and you gasped.

You walked into the apartment, knocking on the door as you entered.

And what you saw...shocked you a little.

Leon was resting on the couch, nursing a drink, a ton of other bottles were littered on the coffee table in front of him. You had no idea how much he had actually consumed but you stepped in and softly closed the front door behind you.

It felt wrong to be here, witnessing him like this, but curiosity poked at you so you stepped further in, going towards the living room where he was sat. He didn't even acknowledge your presence until you came up to the opposite side of the couch.

"What do you want?" his voice was tired and deep, gravelly as if he had been up for days. But god, he looked so damn good and you hated yourself for how your eyes scanned his face as he said it.

"I-I just came to check on you, your front door was unlocked." you say softly, motioning to the door behind you. Leon didn't say anything, he took another sip of his whiskey. "Seems you took happy hour a little bit too literal..." you laugh nervously.

He tossed back the remaining liquor in his glass and lazily looked over at you with dark eyes, "And what if I did?" his voice was sharp, he seemed bothered that you were even there to begin with.

Which you understood, you basically just walked in unannounced into his apartment. But...you were glad that you showed up when you did. He did not look his best and judging by the bottles littered on the coffee table, he had been at this awhile.

"You shouldn't be drinking alone, just saying." you commented, sitting on the arm of the couch. Your eyes scanned him as you waited his response. He spoke after a beat of silence, "Why not?" he pours more liquor into his glass.

"I got my own problems...and they aren't yours." Leon followed up, tossing some of his hair out of his eyes. He held the glass in his hand, sloshing it around and sending a small glare to where you sat on the arm of his couch.

You decide to take the moral high ground and not argue with him, "Because I want to help but you're being a stubborn ass...so." you pop out your lips and carefully take a seat on the couch next to him.

He leans forward as he looks at you, "and why do you even care?" he harshly said, taking another small sip of whiskey. That was a question, why did you care? You've always cared about people, but you were too stubborn to admit that that to him.

"I don't..." you said slowly. "You have made it obvious that I don't need to care about you." you mutter, looking away from him and at all the bottles sitting on the table in front of you.

Reverse psychology, works everytime. You smirk to yourself.

He leans back onto the couch cushions, eyeing you, "So if you don't care..." He trails off. "Why are you still here?" he asks with a stern tone, no harshness but just. Curiosity.

Because I wanted to check on you...and I want you to bend me over the table and rail me. You thought with a shake of your head, you could not say that...god, you sounded insane and...horny.

You just settle for, "It's complicated." as you lean back onto the couch, the dress pooling around your thighs as you do. "I do care...maybe...a little." or a lot, your brain corrects.

He sets his glass down, leaning towards you. "Well, if you care about me, get me another damn drink." He was being playful with his words, but his eyes still pierced your skin, all dark.

Disappointment pooled a little in your stomach at that, "That's all? That's all you want?" you blink at him. "Just more...alcohol..." you didn't let the disappointment in your eyes falter a little.

He speaks up as you adjust a little on the couch, "What do want me to say?" he takes another swig from his almost empty glass, looking over at you. "I'm an alcoholic...you want me to apologize? To say I'll change? Cause you and me both know that's a load of crap." Hiis tone sharpens as he says that, he scrunches his face up, almost wincing at his words.

"...you going to get me that drink?" he asks, his tone suddenly 10x calmer than before. You swallow and get up from his couch, "Fine. Whatever, doesn't matter." you clear your throat before going over to where his alcohol is sat on the counter.

You grab a glass off of the drying rack by the sink, an idea forming in your head. If you were going to be bold, best to have some liquid courage. So, you grab the glass and the other bottle of whiskey on the counter.

Leon was leaning back against the cushions of the couch, his hand running through his brown hair. When you come back into the room, you unscrew the lid on the bottle, not even looking at him, pouring some whiskey into his glass.

He sees her set down a glass too, as she sits down on the couch beside him. "Hey, uh, thanks." He looks at the drink and then back at you. You smooth the fabric of your dress out against your thighs.

Leon clears his throat, "You know what, how about we drink together?" He reaches out and grabs his glass, motioning towards the empty one you brought out. "Go ahead."

You don't need to be asked twice, he had taken the bait...or maybe he had planned this but deep down you doubted it. You take the glass, filling it up a little bit with the amber liquid.

You sigh a little, leaning back on cushions, taking a sip of the burning liquor. "Thanks."

He looks at your glass that rests in between your hand, on top of your eyes before they flit back up to your face. "So..." he fills the silence with his voice as you look over at him. "...What is this 'complicated thing' you have to say to me?" He quirks a brow at you.

I want you to absolutely ruin me...

You take another sip of the liquid as you look away from him, "Nothing, s' stupid." you say quietly, mumbling into your glass. The alcohol was starting to take affect a little bit. The small sips you've had burned your throat, but they urged you to stay sitting next to him on the couch.

He pauses then shakes his head, "No no," He looks over into your eyes. You look up at him as he talks, "you can't start a conversation and then back out." Leon takes another sip of his drink as he says this, eyes boring into you. His tone being playful and stern.

You rake a hand through your hair, taking another sip of whiskey.

"I can't even entertain the idea because...i'm 24 and you're...older." You admit bravely with a blush covering your face, taking a large gulp of the whiskey, throwing it back all at once. You felt his eyes bore holes into you as your heart almost pounds right out of your chest.

Leon stares at you for a beat and then shakes his head, "So?" he pauses and then speaks through a sigh. "Just because we got an age gap doesn't mean anything...unless you think I'm still dating high school girls."

You gulp, reaching forward and pouring more whiskey into your glass, then leaning back as he continues. "You think I'd try making a move on you?" Leon's deep blue eyes bore into your head as he's scanning your features, trying to read your reaction.

You blink a couple times, a blush still covering your face as you take a swig of the whiskey. "S' a little more complicated than that, Leon." you breathe.

Calm down, he's not gonna pounce on you, you think. But you would probably like it anyways.

"Well then, do you want to tell me, 'What's more complicated than that' or just keep beating around the damn bush?" He keeps glancing from his drink to you. Your breath stutters as you bring the glass back up to your lips, drinking another small gulp.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was you being truly bold but the next words you said put everything into motion for the rest of the night.

You inhale another gulp of air, looking over at him, trying not to look him directly into the eyes as you said this. "Maybe I've...thought about...you making a move on me..." you swallow.

"...and I've not entirely hated the idea." you admit to him, the silence of the room stretched around you and him as you said the words.

He pauses, you can see it out of your prochiral vision. "...What?" he says. Leon glances back down at his drink, his dark brown hair moving with him before he looks back up at you.

Raising a brow, he asks, "You're into me?"

And you swear your stomach might just fall out of your ass, you take a swig of whiskey, slowly. Shifting a little bit, crossing your legs so the fabric moves a little on your thighs.

"Well when you put it like that..." you sigh, looking down at the glass in your lap. "I might be...yeah." you admit.

"But it doesn't matter. Your older and you just...your way more mature than me and I'm just some stupid little 24-year-old girl with a dumb crush." You surprisingly admit, tossing back more whiskey. Your sober thoughts had started to come out the more you consumed his liquor.

You down the rest of the glass, waiting for him to say something beside you. You wouldn't dare look at him, he was so beautiful and just...god, you wanted him inside of you...

He swigs down the rest of his glass like you did only moments earlier. Leon rests both arms on the couch and looking up at you. His eyes were locked on you.

"I want you to answer me, honestly." His voice is slow and serious, stern. Almost like a father disciplining you, the thought of him ordering you around like that...it made your pussy throb for him.

"Yeah?" you ask, waiting for him to ask you whatever he needs to.

He steadies himself as he looks at her, responding, "Do you honestly think this can work? For a guy like me to start something with a girl like you?" Leon takes another sip of his alcohol as he looks at you again.

You listen to him speak, desperation and disappointment pooling in your belly as he talks. "...I work for a secret government agency, that no one knows about, I do...unsavory things for the good of this country and for people. I'm not the kind of guy you want to get mixed up with." He says slowly, warning you.

The message is loud and clear to you: don't start something you can't finish, especially with me.

Challenge accepted, you think.

"I know what you've done Leon..." you bravely say, looking at him with innocent eyes. "I'm not some naive girl, I've done my research." You toss more of the whiskey back into your mouth as you say this.

He looks up at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, he was trying to understand why you were defending him heavily. Leon was trying to even understand why you were over here in the first place.

He grips his glass a little, you watch him do this as he speaks again, envious of the glass in his hand.

"Then you also know the risks of being with someone like me?" Leon looks at you, scanning your body, his gaze dark. You swallow and slowly raise your glass back up to your lips, taking another sip of your drink.

He got you there. you think as you try to come up with a response that doesn't make you sound needy or desperate, even though you were.

But he didn't need to know that.

You press your thighs together, his gaze making want pool in your panties. "A-And what would I be risking exactly?" you say softly, your innocent eyes looking at him.

Leon exhales, tossing back the rest of his glass before sitting it on the coffee table in front of him. "Everything." he mutters. He pinches his brow as he leans back on the couch.

"You're 24, a damn kid to me, and if you honestly think it'll be easy sailing with me then just think...about all the ways that it could go wrong." He closes his eyes with a sigh, not out of frustration but out of the risk he would be taking...just to be with you.

His eyes scan your face for understanding, "If something happens to you...then I'd be the one to blame. Do you understand?" You blink and sit your glass down on coffee table next to his, releasing a breath.

You lean back on the couch, your back meeting the large cushions, yet again, and the heaviness that his words carried sobered you up. He trusted you with his secret, he was trying to make sure you were serious...that you weren't going to go running off on him.

He worked for the government, he told you and you realized that in that moment, he was probably not allowed to share such information. Especially, with you.

You did realize the weight of his words, what he was saying and trying to get you to understand.

"I'm...not a little kid, I know what I'm doing." You sigh, playing with the hem of your sundress, not daring to meet his eyes that were watching you with skepticism...almost wonder.

Leon nods, silently, thinking as he looks at the empty glass next to hers on the coffee table. "Why me? Why not someone your own age? Someone that doesn't work for the D.S.O?" he queries you with curious eyes.

You take a stuttering breath, admitting the truth. "None of the guys my age..." you start, trying to not let the alcohol fail you now. "...make me feel the way that you do...I don't know why but..." you shake your head as your face flushes, your eyes flitting up to meet his.

His eyes widen a little, if you weren't watching him so closely, you probably wouldn't notice the subtle shift. His tone shifts as he speaks, breathing out some air.

You watch him as he processes what you just said, looks like he had been slapped in the face. You almost want to take back your words, forget the pool in your underwear and leave but...then he speaks.

"You feel something...?" He trails off.

"Like what kind of...?" and you just press your thighs together and look at him with desperation in your eyes.

"I want..." you swallow. "You."

He doesn't say anything for a minute as he looks at you. Leon was processing your words, his eyes trailing down to your thighs that are pressed together, which just confirmed his thoughts.

You wanted this.

"I feel the same way..." He says, looking away towards his lap. You gasp a little at his words, your nerves still on fire. The alcohol buzzing through your body, making you feel electric at his eyes on you.

"But..." you didn't like the 'But', they were never good when spoken by a man you wanted.

"...just know what your getting yourself into..." His eyes return to yours as you bite the inside of your cheek, confusion at what he meant.

Did he mean in bed or...? because you could handle it. Or you would try for him...anything he wanted you would do.

Shamelessly enough, it made you aroused at the thought of him ordering you around. God, you just wanted him inside of you.

"As in? What?" you innocently ask, a knot forming in your lower stomach at the question.

Leon presses his lips into a line again, his harsh tone almost a bite as he speaks to you this time. You couldn't tell if he was just really impatient with you or if this was just his regular nature towards people.

"I already told you." He grumbles, leaning forward a little bit, elbows on his knees. "I'm not a good guy, not some knight in shining armor."

He shifts a little at this, continuing, "I do bad things for this country. Things that no one should have to do." The agent looks up at you, his eyes somewhat vulnerable. "Can you handle the things that I do?"

You just nod, vigorously.

Even though the thought of him having to kill people, kill things that were probably behind your comprehension. It scared you. But that was just the career he chose; it was his life, and he was the one to live it.

Not you.

His eyes turn dark in an instant, "Can you handle that part of me?"

You would be dripping on the couch by now if it wasn't for your underwear. You knew what he meant but the way he was looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

It made you want him even more, if that was even possible.

You take a stuttering breath, your nerves getting the best of you, yet again as your cheeks flush, "I mean...I've...not run away yet? Right?" you let out a nervous laugh at this.

"Gotta mean something..." you offer him a nervous smile.

It almost looks ridiculous in your head, the way you're smiling at him as he just looks at you almost no emotion on his face. His gaze serious and his eyes dark, made you feel foolish and small to him.

As if what you said or did, didn't make any difference in the slightest.

Leon stares at you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face, looking at your lips. The air is thick in the room, his breathing and yours taking up the sound.

Thats before he pulls you towards him, saying in an almost groan, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You land on top of him almost as your legs go either side of his lap, straddling him. He has you close now, exactly where he wants you. His hands planted firmly on your hips, pulling your face close to his.

You could feel his breath against your lips, you grabbed onto his shoulders, keeping yourself steady. Removing one of his hands off of your hip, reaching up to trace the large pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. You part them only slightly.

"How do you want me to handle you?" He smirks a little, his words only echos in your ears. You were practically leaking, sitting on his lap lightly.

The want in his eyes, he would melt you into a puddle on the floor if he really wanted to.

As innocent and as sweet as you can muster, you say, "However you want..." The alcohol was making you bolder, pushing you to say and do things that would make more sober you, blush red.

He lightly pulls down your bottom lip with his thumb, "Good. Because..." he leans closer to you now, slowly dropping his thumb away from your mouth. "I wanna do this." he whispers, pressing his lips to yours.

You hum into the kiss, not even wasting any time as you kiss him back in a daze. His lips were soft, even softer than you imagined, they felt good against yours.

His tongue teases your lips, you let him in, now kissing more messily and frantically. You were starved and he was feeding you, giving exactly what your touch starved body, desired.

"Taste so good, baby." He mumbles in between kisses, that only spurs you on more, pressing a bruising kiss too his lips. Leon groans against the kiss pressing you directly on to his crotch.

You felt his erection as you whimpered into the kiss, carefully rolling your hips against it. He felt so big and he probably wasn't even fully hard yet.

"What? Feel good? You like grinding down on my dick?" He whispers, pulling his lips away from you and moving them down to your jaw. The foul words made your stomach coil, you nodded as you pressed your clothed entrance against it again.

"God, baby, so needy." He sucks at the skin on your neck, making your pussy throb at his words. You keep grinding down on his dick as he groaned against your neck. "Fuck." you heard him say as you kept rolling your hips over his clothed erection.

"Feels s'good." You whimper, your voice breaking in desperation.

"I know, babygirl, fuck..." He groans as your hips keep up their unrelenting pace. He holds onto your hips for dear life as he keeps sucking and nipping at your neck.

You feel that coil unwind, feel yourself become closer as you release a soft moan, filling the air. Your hands hold onto his head, gripping his hair. "Leon..." you moan, pressing yourself harder on his clothed dick.

"What do you want baby? You wanna cum? Wanna cum for me?" He growls into your ear as you keep up the pace, feeling your stomach bubble. You bite your lip and nod.

"Use your words for me." He orders. You whimper and keep going, trying to find the words without releasing a moan instead. "W-Wanna cum for you d-" you stop yourself as you moan. Your eyes almost going wide at the word that almost slipped out of your lips.

"What was that? Couldn't hear you sweetgirl?" he teases, licking the sensitive part of your neck. You whine again, so close to your release, he grips your hips, stopping you from moving.

You almost cry, feeling your release just barely in your grasp. "What did you say baby? Be a good girl and use your words for me." he growls, holding your chin in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

You bite your lip at his hungry gaze, "Daddy..." you mutter.

His eyes don't widen and if he's shocked, he doesn't show it. You expected him to kick you out and to never see him again as you muttered it.

But to your surprise he looks up at you with hunger. "You want to suck on Daddies cock?" He growls, as you gasp and nod at his words. Not expecting him to just fall into your kink so easily, most guys are embarrassed to have you call them that in bed.

Most guys weren't Leon.

"Okay, baby, go ahead. Show me how good you feel." He releases the grip on your hips, letting you continue to grind against his clothed erection.

"Mmmm, want you so bad, daddy." you whimper as you keep rolling your hips down, harder, your release slowly building again. The friction was making you leak, probably dripping onto his dark jeans.

He groans, watching as your hips move over his. "What do you want Baby? My fingers?"

You shake your head, close to cuming in your underwear. "Want your cock, daddy. Been...wanting it...forever." You say through a moan. Keeping your assault against his hips.

"How long?" he grunts, holding onto your hips tightly as you move them frantically.

You lean back your head in a moan, the coil unwinding again, "Since...I first...saw you." you admit in a daze, letting your hands grip his biceps, probably drawing blood.

"Fuck...baby, if I knew you would've wanted this sooner. I would've just given it to you." He bites his lip in a whimper, he was probably about to cum in his pants. You were almost there, barely, you just needed his words and his touch for the coil to finally break.

You admit another thing, to get his attention as your fucking yourself against him, "I fucked myself to the thought of you..."

"How? Your fingers or..." he trails off in lust as he remembers a month ago when delivered that package to your door. How flushed you were as he stood there, eyeing him, and how you bit your cheek at his words.

"You fucking little..." he trails off in a moan, you roll your hips harder. "Fucked my vibrator, pretended it was your cock..." you moan again, rolling your head forward onto his shoulder.

You were reaching it, fast, you could feel it.

"Gunna cum, daddy, gunna cum." You whimper fucking your hips faster against his clothed erection. He has gripped onto your hips letting you come undone on top of him.

"Cum for me, baby." He growls.

"More, say more, so close..." You whine, into his shoulder.

Leon kept you steady as you rocked, trying to talk you through your impending orgasm. "Going to fuck you so good. You'll be feeling...it for days." he said.

"Oh god, daddy, yes..." you reach your peak, cuming hard in your underwear, basically ruined and soaked in your juices now. He softly touches your face, moving hair back behind your ear as you ride out your high against his erection.

Leon is the one to speak first afterwards and your thankful. Worried that he would be thinking it was awkward for you to have come undone just by humping him.

"How do you feel, baby?" He asks, his voice low but sweet as he traces his thumb over your cheek.

"Felt good, felt really good." You mumble to him. You look down between you at the wet spot you left on his jeans. "I'm sorry..." You start, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

He shakes his head, looking at you gently, "It's okay. I can just wash them." He is still tracing his finger over your cheek as looks at you, you don't know what he is thinking but it makes you nervous not knowing.

"Did you really mean what you said?" you ask, trying not to seem shy under his gaze when you literally just came undone on top of him.

"About what, baby?" He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip again. You blink slowly trying not to seem desperate or whiny, you still wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you. The release on his lap only made it worse.

"Fucking me...until I can't...walk or something like that?" you ask, nerves overtaking you again as you gaze into his blue eyes. Feeling him still hard beneath you.

"You still not satisfied, babygirl? You need daddy's cock?" He teases with a smirk, watching as you shiver underneath him with nothing but his words and his soft touch.

You nod frantically, he moves his other hand up to tuck some hair back behind your ear. "Words, use your words." He sternly says and you recoil a little at his order.

Something bubbled in your belly, you didn't know if it was his authority or...what but jesus. You wanted to do anything he asked.

"Yes, daddy, I want your cock." you say sweetly, trying not to seem nervous under his gaze and his hands slowly lifting up your sundress. He licks his lips, looking at the dark spot on his jeans from your cum.

"You made a mess on daddy's lap, baby. You've been naughty, very naughty. I don't think I should let you have my cock." Leon teases, smirking as he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers.

His cock was uncomfortably hard beneath you, made your want pool in your lower stomach all over again. “Daddy, please.” you whimper, pathetically, trying to roll your hips again.

“Just want you inside me…” you whimper, trying to get more friction, anything or everything. You don’t care anymore.

"I'll take care of you, baby. I'll be good to you." You whimper at his words, trying not to wiggle anymore for friction. He carefully lays you down on the couch, on your back.

He leans up and presses a bruising kiss to her lips, his hand stroking her thigh, “Such a good girl for me.” He mumbles in between languid strokes of his tongue.

You want him everywhere, you don’t know how much long you can keep this up, he already made you cum once and that wasn’t even by his own accord.

He reaches down and carefully runs a finger up her soaked underwear, pressing a sloppy kiss to your jaw as he does. Your chest is rising and falling as he teases your already soaked panties.

“Baby, you’re underwear is soaked.” He lowly chuckles as he presses another kiss to your lips. You whimper in anticipation as he plays with the hem of your panties.

Leon leans back, he smirks, “Or is that because you drenched yourself once already?” He asks as he finally pulls the underwear down your legs.

You nod frantically, not sure if he was actually asking or just commenting on your current state of arousal. He slips a hand through your wet folds, causing you to shiver.

"Use your words, babygirl." He says as he just brushes his finger lightly across your clit, causing you to whimper. You look up into his dark blue eyes, "S' all for you, daddy." You say as he pushes your sundress up with his hand.

"All that just from grinding on my dick, sweetheart?" He tuts, running his hand down your stomach and too your aching cunt. You writhe under him with another frantic nod.

He tuts, "You dirty girl." Leon smirks as he teases your clit again with his fingers, running the pad of his thumb over the sensitive bud. You shiver and feel a wave of arousal at his thumb's movements.

You let out a small moan as he continues to stroke it. This seems to catch his attention. You were already so needy and sensitive from the orgasm moments before.

"You think you can take my fingers, baby?" He groans as he continues to stroke your clit, you feel another orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you nod, "Yes, daddy."

He complies, seeing that your answer was good enough to slip one finger into your tight and needy cunt. "Uhh! Daddy!" you moan, his fingers were much larger and thicker than you even imagined, stretching you out beyond your imagination.

"You like that? You like my fingers fucking into your tiny hole, baby?" He whispers dirtily into your ear as you let out another strangled moan.

"Yes...yes!" You whine as your orgasm slowly builds again, he's pumping his finger in and out of you at a faster rate now, your whines and moans echo through the large loft apartment.

Leon keeps flicking his thumb over your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you, you grip onto his bicep so hard you think you might draw blood, again.

"What if I just..." he says lowly as he removes his finger, quickly adding a second one. "...do this?" you practically moan out, it's pathetic really because it's not even his cock that's got you like this.

It's two of his fingers pumping in and out of your drenched hole, stretching you out and making you edge closer to the second orgasm.

"Daddy! Please don't stop! Feels s' good." You say, biting your lip, your back arching off the couch as he finger fucks you into oblivion. You babble more about his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"My cock is going to feel so good inside of you, sweetheart." He whispers into your ear, his words spurring you on as you feel your second release coming up. You release a pornographic moan as he curls his fingers.

"Please! Please! Please, daddy. Need you inside me so bad." you whine as you feel your second orgasm rapidly approaching. He presses more kisses into your neck as he groans.

"Gonna fuck your tight little hole so good, baby. You'll be feeling it for days." He rasps into the skin of your neck as he speeds the movement of his fingers, his thumb assaulting your clit.

His words making you clench against his fingers with trembling thighs, you grab harder onto his bicep as you reach your second release, "Fuck! I'm -- coming!" You pathetically moan.

"Good girl, drenching my fingers." He coos as he presses a featherlight kiss onto her jaw. He slowly works you down from your orgasm, slowing down his fingers as you finally catch your breath.

Your chest rises and falls, feeling like you just ran a marathon. Leon pulls his fingers out of you with a languid groan as he sits back, keeping eye contact with you.

Two drenched fingers rise as you look at them with a small whimper, he smirks a little before putting them into his mouth, sucking your release off of his fingers.

"Sweet, just as I thought." He softly says, leaning back over you, slotting himself between your hips. He braces himself on either side of your head as he presses his lips to yours.

You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he sloppily kisses and licks your lips, your arms chaining around his neck.

You sloppily make out for a few seconds, moaning and groaning from you both are the only sounds heard in the loft apartment. His clothed erection makes contact with your sensitive core again, making you clutch onto his lips tighter, whimpering.

"Please, I want...I want it." you say softly, begging him in a whine as you try to meet his erection that keeps brushing up against your clit.

Something dark gleams in Leon's eyes as he looks at you, seeing you all pathetic, whining underneath him for his cock. "Ask me, very nicely baby. Maybe I'll consider fucking you good." He says with an evil sort of grin as he teases her. He was going to fuck her anyways but teasing her was just part of the fun.

She whimpered as she looked up at him, "Don't make me."

Leon smirks down at her grabbing a hold on her chin, forcing her to look right into his eyes, blue and daring as he looks at her. "You'll ask nicely or not get anything at all." He says in a stern voice, holding onto her jaw with a strong hand. "Is that clear?"

Fuck. Me.

She feels her drenched core throb at his voice, so stern and demanding making her nod her head vigorously. "Yes, daddy." She says as she looks up at him, biting her lip.

He nods with a smirk, "good, now ask." He removes his hand from her chin, making sure her eyes are still locked on his. She swallows a little and tries to gain what's left of her breath to ask him.

The silence hangs as she utters the words, they both need to hear, "Please fuck me, daddy." she asks softly as she looks into his eyes. She didn't know how much longer she could last, the arousal was getting uncomfortable at this point.

Luckily, she wouldn't have to wait much longer, Leon's face spread into a mischievous smirk. "Good girl." He says with a small squeeze to her ass.

Woah, when did his hands get there? Fuck.

You practically mewl at his praise, he props himself up back up on his knees, still in between your thighs. You watch as he undoes his belt, pulling his pants down to reveal his hard on in his boxers. She whimpers and tries to grab for it to touch it, he moves her hand away.

"No, no. If you do that, I'll cum without you. Hands off." He says sternly and you nod at him, biting your lip as you obey him. "Sorry, Daddy." she says softly.

He smiles at you gently as he pushes his boxers down, his cock springing free. She swallows and looks from it to his face, practically drooling.

Holy shit, oh my god...

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He says as he caresses her face with his hand, you lean into the touch as he moves down to be on top of you again, his large cock brushing against your entrance causing you to whine pathetically.

"Oh, so whiny. Shhh, you'll get it. Be patient." He murmurs into your ear, hands resting on the couch pillow behind you. You had no choice but to wait, your hips bucked a little, trying to see past the teasing and desperately find some friction.

He reached down between you, grabbing his dick and running it through your wet and overstimulated pussy. "Daddy..." You find yourself whining again. He nudges the tip against your entrance, his large hand guiding it.

"Mmm, still so wet for me baby, good girl." He groaned into your ear as he let the tip nudge your opening and slip in a little. You moan softly, feeling the head of his cock in your pussy. "Please..." She whines, holding onto his bicep in a vice grip.

He chuckles in your ear, his voice soothing. "Okay, okay baby, no more teasing." He lets his hips move slowly inside of her, his dick stretching her out. The white heat burned but felt so good, your skin was on fire in the best way possible.

"Daddy." you whine as you bite down on your lip hard enough, your eyes squeezing shut as stars danced in your vision. She leaned her head back, lips parting in a silent scream. "So tight around me, fuck." He says in almost a low growl, nipping at your earlobe.

Your pussy would never be the same, he was sliding all the way in until the head of his dick hit your cervix. She whimpered and clawed at his arm, probably leaving scratch marks later, neither of them seemed to care right now.

He started moving his hips, hitting her deeper and deeper with each thrust. "God, yes. Fuck." He cursed into her ear as he fucked her hard and deep. "Daddy!" she moaned loudly, not even caring if the neighbors in the other loft apartments could hear them.

"So, fucking good, so good." He repeats into her ear, she clenches around him, feeling more arousal as his words spur her on more, her legs going to wrap around his hips, letting him go as deep and fast as he wants with her.

He takes the hint, slipping his hand under her dress, palming her tit over her bra. His hips moved faster as if he was a wild animal, hitting deep inside of her. She cries and whimpers around his cock as it hits that spot over and over.

"Daddy, daddy, mmm..." He was fucking the words right out of you. You couldn't even form any thoughts as he pounded into you. She felt something bubbling in her belly as he fucked her. She dug her fingernails into his skin, his face buried in her neck, licking and biting. "Daddy, not going to...last..." She whimpers as he presses a final bite to her neck.

He leans his head up to look at her as he pounds into her, she looks into his eyes, she sees how his face is scrunched up in pleasure as he pounds into you. "I know, you going to cum for daddy?" He asks in a small smirk, his face watching hers as she nods and starts to moan a little bit louder.

"Yes, gonna...gonna cum!" She moans out pathetically as he sees her whimpering and whining on his cock. He presses a bruising kiss to her lips, his hand holding onto her hips steadily as he keeps up his hips.

You moan into the kiss, letting him rail into her with no hesitation. "Cum for me baby." he whispers against her lips; she lets her eyes roll back as she finally releases on his cock. He groans as she cums around his cock, squeezing it and milking it with her pussy.

"Good girl, good girl." He says with a smirk as he continues fucking her through it to reach his own release. She whimpers and whines, holding onto him tighter and moaning. Eventually, he fills her up with his cum. He lets his hips stutter against hers, she lets her core tighten around his dick, sucking his cum in. "So good..."

He nods with a soft and simple smirk, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips. "You did good, very good." You feel yourself melt at him and his words as he pulls away, slipping out of you. You both moan softly at the loss, your eyes lazily falling shut.

His cum mixed with yours drips out of your stretched entrance, he tucks himself back in his boxers and pants, climbing off the couch. "Stay there, I'll clean you up." Leon says in a soft smile as he walks out of sight for a second before coming back with a washcloth and wiping your shared mess up.

The washcloth makes contact with her sensitive clit, causing her to jerk away a little. He puts a supportive hand on your knee, gently rubbing circles on it. "It's okay, shh." He says soothingly.

She nods at him dumbly, watching him with lazy eyes as he gets up and puts the washcloth in the laundry room, tossing it on the floor. He comes back and sits beside your open legs, he grabs your underwear, slipping them back over your legs, you lift your hips and let him cover your core completely.

"C'mere." He motions for you to move closer next to him, she gets up and weakly moves over, resting her head on his lap. Leon looks down at you, playing with your hair. "Feel better now?" He asks you simply, being gentle with his touches.

"Much better." you reply. And you think that you just might be.

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Welcome to Corroded Coffin Fest!

This is a fanworks challenge/event that is all about Corroded Coffin. It will take place from July 1st thru July 31st.

Thanks so much for showing interest in this event during this post! If you have friends that you think would like to participate, please considering reblogging this announcement!

The calendar of prompts is located here:

Since there are so many events going on (and we love to see it!) we've decided to set a word count range for this event, so the love can be spread around to more events.

GUIDELINES:

Ideas for works include: fic, art, gifsets, fanvids, moodboards, edits, playlists, or anything else you can think of to celebrate Corroded Coffin!

For fics, there is a word count minimum/maximum of between 300-1000 words per drabble. We'll use wordcounter.net to check the word counts before reblogging, so make sure you stick to that range!

Do one prompt, do them all. Hell, do them all twice! It's totally up to you. You can pick and choose what you're interested in. And we're not going to police how you interpret the prompt. Just use them as a jumping off point to be inspired by the boys of Corroded Coffin, and then share that inspiration with us! (Not everything has to be band related, we encourage you to explore other parts of their lives, too!)

Submissions can absolutely be connected to other prompts from the event, or even past works, but should still be able to stand alone each day.

Every morning a new prompt card will go up, reminding everyone of what that day's prompt will be.

All submissions should include any pairings featured, content rating and any content warnings (CW) or tags that you think are appropriate. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well, just to keep things straightforward. A sample could look something like this:

Prompt Day 9: The Hideout, Word Count: 666, Rating: M, Pairing: None, CW: Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Tags: Corroded Coffin, First Gig, Partying, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak, The Hideout

Also, please consider putting any explicit material under a read more cut, because anything rated E that's not hidden under a cut will not be reblogged.

For the artists! Your art submission must be posted on the same day as the current prompt in order to be reblogged by this blog. Your piece of art (or other creation) must be Corroded Coffin focused, using any combination of the guys, together or solo. Of course, other characters can be included, too! But you need to have at least one of the CC band members in it for it to count for this event. Thank you!

All ships are welcome, as long as they include at least one member of Corroded Coffin: Eddie, Jeff, Gareth & Freak. (Who I look forward to learning the name of from you all, time and time again!)

Please tag us here @corrodedcoffinfest when you post your work for the day so we can reblog it!

Be respectful of your fellow participants and readers. We're all here to have fun and share the love of all parts of Corroded Coffin.

Definitely feel free to ask me anything if the rules weren't clear in places, or if I straight up forgot something (or if you just have anything else you'd like to ask). You can send an ask/message to this blog or reach out to @thisapplepielife.

Please submit your post by 11:59 PM EDT on the day of the prompt in order to not be missed for reblogging.

 If posting on AO3, please feel free to use the collection associated with this event: Corroded Coffin Fest AO3 Collection after your submission has been reblogged by this account.

Most importantly, have fun! We can't wait to see what Corroded Coffin fanworks come out of this new event!

More info below, including full prompt list with jumping off suggestions, the warm-up rounds for April, May & June, and a spreadsheet you're free to use:

PROMPTS:

JULY 1ST - FIRSTS

First gig, first check, first award, first...anything.

JULY 2ND - IN THE BEGINNING

How did Corroded Coffin come to be?

JULY 3RD - BEST FRIENDS

Who are the best friends in the band in your head? Let's find out.

JULY 4TH - EDDIE

We all know Eddie. Let's hear some more about him today.

JULY 5TH - ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Get them out on the road, in any way you see fit.

JULY 6TH - HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG

Let's have some romance. Any pairing(s) that tickle your fancy.

JULY 7TH - CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, C'MON

Let them celebrate! Maybe that's a birthday/holiday/celebration show. Maybe it's a wedding, etc.

JULY 8TH - BAND POLITICS

Fight! Fight! Fight! Not everything goes smoothly all the time.

JULY 9TH - THE HIDEOUT

Catch them there, every Tuesday, playing for five drunks.

JULY 10TH - PRIDE

Let's see them celebrate Pride! Or let's see them be proud, etc.

JULY 11TH - JEFF

Let's spend some time with the guitarist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 12TH - OW!

Injuries happen. Tell me more.

JULY 13TH - SEX, DRUGS & ROCK N ROLL

Tell us about the seedier parts of being in a band! 18+ for adult content, please!

JULY 14TH - AND THE WINNER IS...

It's time for awards season. Do they win? Lose? Let us know.

JULY 15TH - LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT

Press Tour/Interviews. Sometimes they need to promote themselves.

JULY 16TH - STRUGGLING

They're working their asses off, grinding it out, but they haven't hit the big time yet. Or they're struggling in other ways...

JULY 17TH - "THIS ONE'S FOR YOU"

Dedicate a song to someone special.

JULY 18TH - FREAK (GRANT, FRANK, GOODIE, ETC.)

Whatever name you given him, let's all focus on the bassist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 19TH - IN THE GARAGE

Get them in the garage. Band practice, fixing the van, etc.

JULY 20TH - UNDER THE COVERS

Let them cover some real songs. Or, you know, get under the covers in another way...

JULY 21ST - HATE THIS TOWN

Hawkins. How was it dragging them down? Or, maybe they hate LA...

JULY 22ND - ALTERNATE UNIVERSE (AU)

Use your imaginations and put them into a whole new world!

JULY 23RD - UP AND COMING

They're finally gaining a little traction. Or maybe they're up...and coming. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

JULY 24TH - BEHIND THE SCENES

What's it take to get this show on the road? Or, what are they really like, off-stage? Let's get a peek behind the curtain.

JULY 25TH - GARETH

Bang them sticks! Let's catch up with the drummer of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 26TH - TOUR DATE

Let's focus on a specific show.

JULY 27TH - YOU'LL BE IN MY HEART

Navigating love while on the road.

JULY 28TH - BACK TO INDIANA

Let's go back to Hawkins and/or Indiana. Send these boys home.

JULY 29TH - BEHIND THE MUSIC

You know there's drama. A story. Probably enough for VH1 to come knocking.

JULY 30TH - FAME & FORTUNE

They've made it big! Now what?

JULY 31ST - YOUR SONG

A Corroded Coffin song? A work inspired by a song? A song that makes you think of Corroded Coffin?

WARM-UP ROUNDS:

Let's get a little practice before the full event in July!

Here's a prompt each month leading up to the event to work out the kinks and get in the rhythm of it all!

APRIL 15TH - TAXED

It's tax day. Do they need to pay their taxes? Is this a write-off? Or, are they just taxed from being on the road? Tax them.

MAY 15TH - GET A JOB

Put 'em to work. First jobs, side hustles, etc. Surely they've had some other jobs besides being in the band. Tell us about them.

JUNE 15TH - BAND ON THE RUN

Are they late for a gig? Running from monsters in the Upside Down? On a tour from hell?

Same guidelines as the full event will apply.

SPREADSHEET:

If you'd like a spreadsheet to help you keep track of the prompts and your progress, here's the one I personally use for other events, and will be using myself for this event. If you'd like to use it yourself, just go to File>Make a Copy and you'll get a version you can edit in your own Google Sheets.

Thanks for showing interest in having a Corroded Coffin event this year! ❤️🦇🖤 - @thisapplepielife (and thanks for the help and adding to the prompt list, @wormdebut!)

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request: Chapter 6

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2.1k

a/n: it's Friday! now that these two are on ~better footing~ let's see what's going on. also, I forgot to say this last week -- thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta reading this fic!!! you're amazing. 💖 chapter tags/warnings: fluff, hint of angst (the lightest hint), banter

Chapter 6

Wednesday, October 2 Sixth week of the semester

After Joel (you’d been practicing calling him by his name in your mind, rather than Hot Construction Guy or HCG) answered your maintenance request, you felt like you had a new start. There had been a misunderstanding between you, and maybe it was a mild one, in the end, but you were on new ground now. Possibly flirting-allowed ground. (You’d waxed lyrical about his shoulders at length to Beth, about the way they’d flexed while he worked in your office, until she demanded a picture or for you to shut up without supporting visuals. Fair enough.)

Just two days later, on Wednesday, you were standing outside of your building and chatting with a student who had walked with you from your morning class when you saw him again. This time he wasn’t alone. A young girl, maybe 13 or 14, walked next to him as they made their way across the quad. She was right around Ellie’s age, with curly hair and a huge smile on her face as she poked him in the side. He dodged, laughing, and you realized he was carrying a small backpack. Must be the daughter. 

Jen, your student, cleared her throat. You looked back to her and realized you’d trailed off in the middle of whatever you’d been saying. “Sorry, Jen. Got distracted. Come by office hours this week? We can chat about your paper more then.”

“Sure!” She looked over her shoulder curiously, but you didn’t look back at Joel. You didn’t want to give away what you’d been looking at. Jen nodded and headed off towards her next class, and as you turned, you realized Joel had come much closer on the path across the quad. And he’d obviously spotted you. You waved and smiled.

“Mornin’,” he greeted you as he and the girl you thought might be his daughter came to a stop right in front of you. “This is Sarah, my daughter,” he confirmed. He elbowed her in the side as he introduced her, and she laughed and elbowed him back. You introduced yourself, smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah! I heard you have great taste in books. And that you keep this guy up to date.” 

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do my best to keep this old dinosaur using his brain.” Joel grumbled and rolled his eyes back at her in response. You laughed. 

“So what brings you to campus?”

“Her school’s out for the day, for some teacher in-service thing, so she’s coming to work with me. Right now we’re doing a tour, though.” He gestured around the quad. “I think we’ve covered the basics.”

“Sure, dad, you pointed out like four buildings and every single plant between here and your office.” You laughed again, wondering if he was on the crew that always did the landscaping? Come to think of it, you weren’t really sure what his job was, exactly. You decided to ask later. 

“Sounds fun. Where are you off to now?”

“Well, lunch soon, after a bit more tour.” Joel hesitated, and you noticed Sarah squinting at him before she suddenly interjected, “you should come! Join us for lunch.” The invitation surprised you and warmed you, a bit.

“Wish I could. I’ve got a faculty meeting over lunch.” You sighed. “Lunch with you would be way more fun, believe me.” Sarah looked a little disappointed, and you bit your lip, considering. “I could show you around the English department, if you want? It’s not that exciting, but you could see what it looks like. Before you go to lunch.” Sarah perked back up.

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” Joel smiled at her obvious excitement and you made yourself look away. It would probably be weird to stare at him like that in front of his daughter. Right? You gestured to the steps behind you, and Sarah led the way into the building. You fell into step with Joel and studied him out of the corner of your eye.

“Thanks, darlin’, for the tour.” Joel nudged your shoulder with his own, and your breath caught. You smiled. 

“It’s no problem. Sarah seems fun, I do wish I could have lunch with you instead.” 

He laughed. “I’ve met your colleagues, I believe you.” 

“Oh? Does Trevor terrorize your department as much as he does us?” 

At the mention of his name, Joel actually frowned. “That as—, er, man works with you? Darlin’, I am so sorry.” 

You laughed, and waved your hand. “I know, believe me. It’s fine. There’s one in every program.” He studied you, and you weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you’d caught up with Sarah so you had no time to find out.

You showed her around the building’s lobby, which usually had rotating exhibits of students’ art and short stories. The collection featured that day had been put together by the Creative Writing Club and focused on a spooky theme, since Halloween was approaching. She actually started reading some of the short stories that went along with the art, so you promised you’d send them to Joel so she could read them later when she had more time. She grinned, and followed you down the hall to your office, with a quick pit stop by the kitchen on your way to grab coffee (for you and Joel) and tea (for Sarah) in little paper cups. 

“Is this what all the offices are like?” She asked, studying your colleagues’ doors and varying levels of decor. 

“Some of the buildings are fancier than others, especially the business school and the engineering labs, but generally, yes.” She hummed in response.

You unlocked your office door and gestured the two of them inside in front of you. “Feel free to look around,” you told Sarah, who was already engrossed in your bookshelf. You plopped your bag down on your chair and started unpacking from your class. Joel hovered for a moment, awkward, before settling into one of your two small armchairs for visitors. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, smiling a bit to yourself. 

“Ooh! Dad, look, it’s the book we read!” Sarah tapped the spine of the same book of short stories you and Joel had talked about a few days before. 

You nodded. “That’s the one he told me about, the one he said you gave him to read. What did you think?” 

It turned out she’d loved it, and she told you all about why as she looked over the rest of your shelves. You listened, but turned to check on Joel, who you found was already looking at you. His expression was soft and almost too much for you to take in. Your eyes met and he half smiled at you, just an upturn of one side of his lips. It was too charming. You bit your lip and tried to tune back into what Sarah was saying, ducking your head.

“Do you have a favorite genre?” You asked, glancing back at Sarah, who had found the bound copy of your dissertation, apparently. She’d pulled it off the shelf and started flipping through the pages. “Ah.”

“This is so cool!” She turned the title page towards Joel, where you could see your name and the title of your dissertation, and you felt your cheeks heat. “Look, dad.” He leaned forward to read it, and then looked back at you. There was something warm in his eyes that made your stomach twist. 

“Impressive, darlin’.” He held your gaze again as Sarah read through the table of contents, murmuring about the themes you explored and the novels and poems you included. 

You tore your eyes away from her dad and said, “I can send you a copy of that, too, but I promise it’s pretty boring. Dissertations are just overly long proof that you learned something, not particularly exciting reading.”

Sarah regarded you skeptically, but nodded and said she’d like that. To distract yourself from staring at Joel (again), you reached out and picked up the flyer for the exhibit in the lobby. “Hey, this has the link to all the stories we saw in the lobby.” Sarah took it and nodded, looking over it. 

“Here, darlin’, let me give you my regular email so I can forward stuff to Sarah more easily.” You nodded, a bit surprised, as Joel reached out for a post-it and a pen. He jotted down his email and passed it back. You smiled at his neat handwriting. “We should probably get going to lunch, get out of your hair.” 

Sarah sighed but agreed. “Thanks for letting me look at your books.” 

You smiled. “Anytime, really. If you have to hang out on campus you can always come bother me instead of your dad. If you’d like,” you added, realizing that maybe that was a strange offer from an adult she’d only just met. 

But Sarah and Joel both smiled at you, and she nodded her head. “His office is pretty boring,” she teased. Now it was Joel’s turn to sigh, but you could see he was trying to hide his smile.

You stood up to usher the Miller duo out of your office, glancing at the clock. You had about fifteen minutes until your meeting. They both said goodbye and waved. After about a minute, though, you heard Sarah call down the hall to her dad that she forgot something, and sure enough her head poked around your door a moment later. 

“Sorry! I forgot my flyer.” You looked down and found it on your desk, and handed it back to her. “Thanks! Um. I wanted to say, too that, well.” She peeked back down the hall behind her before continuing, lowly, “my dad said you were really smart and cool, and he was right. I’m glad. He needs more cool friends. And he loves people who are smarter than him.” She grinned sunnily at you before running back down the hall to meet her dad. You were left leaning against your desk, stunned. Cool, huh? You smiled and bit your lip. 

…

Ellie (12:42 PM): can I come over after school

you (1:03 PM): you know you don’t need to ask (1:04 PM): but yes, obviously

Ellie (1:07 PM): 🫡 (1:08 PM): mom’s going to work and I need to study

you (1:10 PM): study buddies, assemble (1:10 PM): 💪

Ellie (1:11 PM): nerd (1:12 PM): i don’t think grading counts as studying (1:12 PM): it’s like, the opposite of studying

you (1:15 PM): study and grading buddies doesn’t have the same ring to it

Ellie (1:20 PM): 🧐 (1:20 PM): but i had to ask you never know you might have ~plans~ these days (1:22 PM): since youre running into your big crush and his DAUGHTER and not TELLING ME ABOUT IT (1:23 PM): ?????

you (1:25 PM): 🙄 (1:25 PM): it just happened like 2 hours ago

Ellie (1:26 PM): you already told beth about it

you (1:26 PM): i’ll tell you about it tonight

Ellie (1:32 PM): you bet your ass you will

…

Later that night, the three of you were crowded around your coffee table over takeout, Ellie’s books, and your students’ homework assignments. Beth had heard Ellie was coming over for dinner and invited herself along, unsurprisingly.

When you told them the whole story, Beth sighed. 

“Babe. Listen to me.” She grabbed you with one hand on each side of your head, looked you right in the eye, and said, “listen. He introduced you to his daughter. He told her that you’re cool. He called you ‘darlin’ in front of his daughter.” She shook your head a little as she talked. “He. wanted. you. to. eat. lunch. with. them.” She punctuated this piece of evidence by tilting your head from side to side with each word, squishing your cheeks. “The man wants you. And I’m pretty sure you want him, too. Just let yourself believe that, the next time you see him. Alright?” 

You laughed, but it felt hollow. You closed your eyes, but you promised to try. Everyone in that room knew how difficult that could be for you. After everything.

She squeezed your face again.“Ok, I’ll take it. But just remember, it might be worth it even if it feels difficult. Good things take effort sometimes. That doesn’t mean he’s one of the bad ones. Right?”

You took a deep breath. “Right.” You felt Ellie nudge you with her knee and you smiled.

Beth nodded. “Right. And don’t worry, if we get even a whiff that he’s anything like The Asshole we’ll tell you before anything happens.” 

Ellie nodded, too, clearly in agreement. “Fuck yeah we will.”

You hugged them both, knowing they meant it. 

It helped.

...

a/n: what's next for these two? well, Joel still has to come back and fix that shelf. he promised. 👀 prev | next

tag list: @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @katareyoudrilling @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@jupiter-soups my deepest apologies ily

[lunamadhatter99]

All for The Cameras

Chapter 3

Finnick Odair x Fem!reader

It's time. That's all I'm gonna say.

If you like it and want to be added to the tag list, comment here.

Have a good day, loves! ❤️

Chapter summary: the plan is in motion.

Chapter Warnings: prostitution, drug use (on the bad guy, but still),

Tag list.

@guacam011y

@justtrying2getby

@idontevenknow1359

@alexandra-001

@bambikitten

@maggiecc

@redh00dsbf

@haneybunny

@1-800-styles

@sisiking99

@merromimo

@yourdailymemedelivery

@regsg18

@gordorio

@bambikitten

@gracieeleanorr

@shev3nom

@honethatty12

@savingprivatecass

@erindiggory

@martahabla

It's been a month since the talk with Plutarch... and I still can't believe it.

The rebellion is actually happening, district 13 still exists!

These are the thoughts that keep my mind sane. Plutarch said we need to be careful, he might have a plan... but we need people we can trust.

Of course.

I try to think of some people that would gladly help and that can be also trusted while I walk into the building Cal lives in. Unfortunately the rebellion hasn't properly started and I still have "duty" to do.

I take a deep breath as I enter the elevator and close my eyes for a moment, enough time for another person to enter with me. And I already know who this is.

"Finnick," I nod my head greeting him and open my eyes as the doors close.

"Sweetheart," he sends me one of his charming smile and nods his head too.

The ride to the last floor is pretty long and slow, it gives time for a small, awkward silence to fall for a while before Finnick speaks up.

"I heard... you know." He says, hands behind his back casually.

"Everybody knows apparently..." I sigh.

"Yeah... people can't stop talking about it. The talk of the town."

"If he wanted it to be a surprise, well, oops" I roll my eyes.

"He's been..." he pauses for a moment, shakes his head and looks up with an angry smile.

"What?" I press, "more possessive? More obsessed?"

"Yeah, since you left for the Victory tour he..." he starts, but I cut him off immediately.

"No, he's been like this since that day," I say, I feel him looking at me, but I don't have the heart of looking back.

"Do.... do you think he heard it?" He hesitantly asks, lowering his voice too, "there's no way he could've heard..."

"He must've. That's the only explanation." I tell him, lowering my own voice. "You chose the worse time of all."

"Well, I'm sorry... okay? I... wasn't thinking," he apologies.

"Clearly." I take another deep breath before speaking again, "you know sometimes I try to come out with as many way of killing him I can. Each of them ends up with me getting caught, because unfortunately he is who he is... but it helps."

"How many did you get last time?" He asks, a hint of an amused smile on his face.

"I think... uh... 6," I say, "oh no, 7... almost forgot about the spoon one."

He actually laughs and it helps me too, knowing that in the end we're on the same boat.

"I think... 13 would've been better." He says, he kind of emphasises the number. That makes my head turn to him, him already looking at me with a serious expression.

Could it be..?

So I dare ask.

"Did you talk to Plutarch?"

I see him opening his mouth to answer, but before anything could come out of it, the elevator's doors open and we are greeted by Cal himself ready with two glasses of wine.

"Welcome back, my lovelies." He cheers and he hands us the drinks, "finally all together. C'mon, c'mon."

As we enter his huge apartment I try to look at Finnick to get that answer, he does look at me, but I can't understand.

"Alright, let's sit for a bit, uh?" Cal lead us to his living room, motioning to a huge wooden table... with only two seats...

Cal take a seat and looks at us, expecting.

"Uhm... should I go get another seat or..?" Finnick tries to take it lightly, but one thing is worse than having to spend the night with Cal Kingslay... not knowing what Cal Kingslay has in store.

"Oh no need, c'mon Finnick sit." Cal tells him and Finnick obeys, looking at me confused.

"And.. what about me?" I ask, also trying to play it cool.

"Oh before you sit," Cal stands up to come up to me, it takes everything in me not to take a step back... or even run, "I got a little gift for you. It's in the bedroom."

"Aw.. that's sweet, but you really shouldn't have." I say, hoping he doesn't feel the tremble in my voice.

"We have to make up for lost time, sweetheart. Now go, then come back here." He instructs.

"Sure..." I fake smile at him, steal a quick glance at a tense Finnick and head to the bedroom.

The bedroom, just as huge, hosts a big round bed, a small couch in front of it and nothing much else. I notice a package on the bed, I go to open and find... of course...

I scoff as I look at the deep red lingerie set he bought me. I put it on, constantly rolling my eyes, the only act of defiance I can afford, I wear the matching rope and head back to the living room.

"Oh look at her!" Cal exclaims as I near, "I knew that was your color. Isn't she a beauty, Finnick?"

"Yes." Is all Finnick says, his eyes fixed on me with a loving, yet sad, expression in them.

Cal suddenly grabs my hand and pull me to him, making me sit in his lap.

"Alright, now let's chat a little." He says as his hands caress my thighs and sides, whatever he could touch, "I really want to know what happened on this tour."

"Well... nothing much, really. Usual tour... with two victors, but the usual," I laugh it off, putting my hands on Cal's in a poor attempt of keeping them steadier.

I look at Finnick, who's even more tense than before, eyes locked on Cal's hands on me.

"So nothing happened?" Cal presses, grip getting tighter, " nothing? Not even with Peeta Mellark?"

I actually laugh at that.

"With Peeta?" I ask, "why?"

"At the party, at the President's residence, the way he touched you..." he holds me tighter.

"He just wanted to dance, Cal... he's so in love with Katniss, he doesn't look at anyone else." I try to chuckle to make him see how absurd his assumptions are.

"Then why not ask any other woman there?" He keeps holding me.

I look at Finnick, who's ready to jump into action, but at the same time knows he can't do anything.

"Because he's shy." I say, "he might seem like an outgoing guy, but he's really not. He asked me probably because I'm his friend. " I try to stress the word 'friend' to make him understand.

"Yeah, I got to talk to him for a few minutes when they were in 4, he didn't talk much, only awkwardly smiled and let out just a few words." Finnick lies, and thanks to that Cal lets go a little, going back at caressing my thighs. I look at Finnick grateful and he slightly nods.

"You have a talent in making people feel at ease with you, don't you?" Cal compliments and rest his chin on my shoulder, "I really missed you. Did you miss me too?"

"Oh, but of course," I fake another smile as he starts to kiss my neck.

His kisses get more heated as he goes, I look everywhere except Finnick, I can't stand it, not after last time.

"Mmh, fuck," he breaths out, "you smell so good, my sweetness, let's go to the bedroom, shall we, lovelies?"

Cal doesn't give me any time to stand up, he picks me up and, bridal style, he takes me to the bedroom, followed by Finnick.

Cal gently puts me on the bed, goes and sits down on the small couch.

"Take your clothes of, Finnick, leave your underwear on," he instructs, getting comfortable on the couch.

Finnick does as he was told, standing only in his underwear. He's surely been working out while I was gone...

"I want you on your knees in front of her," Cal orders him, "and you, my precious princess, spread those legs for him, okay?"

Finnick comes kneel in front of me, I spread my legs to let him in, avoiding his eyes, that, I know are on me.

"Oh that's good." Cal praises, "now, touch her."

I softly gasp at feeling Finnick's hand on my thigh.

"Not too much, Finnick, you know the rules. No kissing unless I say so."

Finnick only nods and keeps on caressing my tigh bringing it a little closer so his face lightly touches it.

"Look at him, sweetheart, look at him,"

This is how these meetings usually go: Cal tells us how he wants to see us, what he wants us to do, sometimes he just likes to watch and sometimes he like to "play" too.

I don't know if he's so delusional to think we too enjoy this or he just loves control so much that he doesn't care at all.

That's how the "date" went, all night.

Cal enjoying his power over us, he particularly enjoyed teasing Finnick.

"How does it feel like? Knowing she'll never be yours?" He would ask. "You wouldn't be able to touch her if it wasn't for me," "You'll never see her unless I say so." And so on...

"I'll see you soon, my loves," Cal says, leading us back to the elevator, his hand in mine.

"It's never going to be too soon," Finnick's charming smile seems to convince him.

"Never," I agree as we're standing in front of the elevator.

Cal spins me around and kisses me. I'm so stunned, I don't even reciprocate until he squeezes my waist.

"I could never get enough of that," Cal humms, letting me go.

"Feeling's mutual," I say turning around, grateful for the doors to open in that moment.

"Bye bye" he waves and we do the same, keeping up our fake smiles until the doors finally close.

"Oh fuck..." I let out a sigh of relief and unconsciously lean against Finnick's taller frame, who gently wraps an arm around me.

"Feeling's mutual," Finnick says, sighing too.

"Okay... uh... listen," I start, pulling away from his embrace, "we do need to find a way to talk. This ride might be long, but it's not enough..."

"I know... I might have an idea, but you'll have to trust me," he tells me confidently.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Trust me, alright?"

I sigh, but nod.

"Main things... uh... did you talk to Plutarch then?"

"That I did, asked for my company, I thought he was one of the usual stuff, but thankfully it wasn't." He tells me, "you?"

"Same thing, do you know anyone else... knowing?" I ask.

"There are lots of victors who might be involved, but I can't say for sure..." he speaks quietly, "maybe Johanna..."

"Definitely believable," I comment, "you know, I think Haymitch too.. both him and Plutarch said the same exact thing to me and... it just makes sense."

"What about the lovebirds?" He says making quotations with his fingers as he says 'lovebirds'.

"I don't think so..." I shake my head, "Katniss is too focused on wanting to protect her family, to think of a rebellion."

"Alright... it's still a start, don't you think?" He smiles at me.

"Yeah..." I say bitterly.

"What's that tone?" He's concern now.

"Nothing... I just don't want to keep my hopes up, you know?" I look down at my hands, avoiding his eyes.

"Hey... C'mon, look at me, Y/n." He gently takes my hand and pulls me to him.

I reluctantly, but not so much, look up at him, at his reassuring eyes. Sometimes all I want to do is get lost in them and never find my way back, but it's a luxury I can't afford, not right now.

I shake my head turning away from him.

"Listen... I want to hope we might have a shot, okay? I really do... it's just hard after everything," I say, bouncing my leg.

"I know," he sighs, "but, I mean, we've been hoping this whole time... might as well keep it up."

"I guess..." I smile at him, losing myself again in his eyes, I see him leaning closer, but I stop him, I have to. "Don't."

"I'm sorry..." he awkwardly smiles, "don't push me away like this." He whispers, cautiously taking my hand again, "Please."

"We can't... uh... I don't feel the same way... and... you should..." I stutter out, focusing on our hands instead of his face.

"You know you can't like to me, I know you all too well, love," he chuckles and I shake my head.

"We can't," I say and luckily the doors open and I rush out leaving Finnick behind.

I walk as fast as I can to the car, hoping to get home faster so I can freely cry and scream.

Once I get home I jump on my bed, burying my face in the pillows and just let everything out.

Of all people... why him? Love is so unfair...

No... no, not love... this is not love... I'm not in love with him and he is not in love with me.

That was just a trauma response... yes... yes. Nothing more.

He can't actually love me. If he actually did he could get killed because of it... but if it's not actual love, he's safe... yeah, yeah, he's safe. Nothing to worry about...

This is all I think about as I cry myself to sleep.

----------

"You said what?" I almost yell at Plutarch, almost because I don't want to risk being heard.

"He has to trust me. I can't just say 'leave her alone people will forget about her', can I?" Plutarch sighs, pouring whiskey into my glass, which I gladly take.

"I guess not," I let out a sigh, tapping nervously my glass, "what if you're right, though? What if they actually arrive to hate her so much to kill her themselves?"

"Do you think that would happen?" He asks, knowing already my answer.

"No..." I sit back down, "no, sorry, I'm just... scared shitless, alright?"

He nods understanding.

"I need to ask you one thing, miss L/n, and I need you to be honest," He says and I nod for him to ask away, "do you trust me?"

I look at him properly, trying to see if in his eyes there's even a tiny bit of malice.

"I do." I say.

"Good. There will be some things you shouldn't know, not because you might get caught, but because some things will require a genuine reaction from you," he explains with a serious tone.

"I understand." I nod, "Yeah, no problem. I just hope I would be able to help despite Cal" I say his name with a disgusted noise.

"We'll deal with that too," he reassures me with a small smile.

"Thanks," I say drinking some whiskey, "this thing will never happen too soon."

"I know,"

"May I ask... why do you trust me?" I ask, "I mean, to everyone's eyes I'm Snow's protégé... why do you trust me?"

"Haymitch Abernathy doesn't just trust anyone." Is his simple answer, "I'm sure you know that."

I nod, satisfied with the answer.

"They will send more peacekeepers to 12 tomorrow." He tells me.

"Yeah? I'm sure they're eager to start with the punishments" I comment bitterly.

"Yep."

"Katniss won't just stand there and watch." I warn him.

"I know," he says confidently.

I scan his face, he's not worried about it, he's certain and confident as if he planned it.

"You hope she does something," I accuse.

"Haymitch was right about you," he lightly chuckles, "you are smart."

"Don't change the subject, Heavensbee. This is an opportunity, isn't it?" I ask again, he nods, "if Katniss is the fighter I know she is... you'll get your opportunity."

"We'll get our opportunity," he corrects me raising his glass and I do the same.

"I hope you're right about this rebellion, Heavensbee. I really hope." I say and take a sip of whiskey.

And Katniss did something, indeed. It helped that her best friend was the one getting punished. The fact that both Haymitch and Peeta intervened was even better apparently, according to Plutarch. This is one of the parts of the plan I can't know apparently, but he seemed confident so I trust him...

Hope.

We're all depending on that.

-----------

"We'll finally be able to talk tonight," Finnick whispers to me as we stand in the elevator.

"How?" I ask, confused about what he has in mind.

He smiles and shows me what's inside a little bag he brought. A bottle of wine.

"You're gonna drug him?" I ask shocked.

"A tiny bit," he chuckles, "he'll also need to eat this," he shows me a small box of chocolates, "the drug will activate with both, the wine alone is ineffective."

"Yeah... because not drinking would feel suspicious, but we never eats so if we say no to the chocolate... no problem at all," I reason, "genius."

"I have my moments," he smiles proudly and I return the smile.

"I thought..." he clears his voice, "I thought we could also talk about... us?"

"Finnick..." I warn.

"We would have time..." he insists.

"There's no us, okay? Stop it." I sternly say.

"Keeo telling yourself that," he whispers.

From there the ride is silent until we arrive at Cal's apartment.

"Good evening, loves!" He greets us as usual, "how are my favourite people?"

"A little tired, you know, Snow wanted me to check some old records" I lie, not completely I really am tired, but of him.

"I'm actually fresh as a flower," Finnick starts, "I actually would like to celebrate,"

"Oh really?" Cal asks and grabs my hand to pull me to him.

"Yeah, I found this old bottle of fine wine in my home and I thought 'what better time to drink it if not with Cal Kingslay?', you know?" He takes the bottle out and soon after the box.

"And that?" Cal's intrigued.

"Oh this is a special gift for you, to thank you for your generosity," Finnick's ability to lie and charm him leave me stunned everytime.

"Aw that's sweet of you," Cal takes both the bottle and the box, "we'll share the box, loves."

"Oh, Cal, I'm sorry, but I'll have to gently decline, I ate so much today. Maybe later, okay?" I use the sweetest voice I can as he puts the objects on the table. I try to ignore how Finnick's jaw tense when I do this.

"Whatever you say, princess, as long as you say my name like that..." he turns to me wrapping both arms around my waist to pull me completely against his body.

"Alright, big guy," I try to nonchalantly pull away from him, "let's toast, shall we?"

"Of course!" Cal exclaims, taking the bottle and sending a grateful nod at Finnick. He goes to pour three glasses, "to what should we toast?"

"How about the Quartel Quell?" Finnick asks as he takes the glass from Cal's hand.

"Love that!" Cal cheers handing me a glass too, "here, princess."

"Thank you, Cal," I say, using his name again for good measure and he grins at that.

"To the third Quarter Quell!" Cal raises his glass and we quickly follow.

One each of us took a sip of wine, Finnick goes to open the box, offering it to Cal.

"Here."

"Oh so kind," Cal smirks, "you don't mind if I take two, do you?"

"Oh, but of course not, take as many as you want," Finnick gives him his usual charming smile as Cal takes two chocolates.

"You know I love sweets," Cal says putting both candy in his mouth, "mmh! So good!"

"Old recipe," Finnick explains.

I watch the scene, tense, I hope Finnick's plan works...

Not even moment later, Cal goes to sit holding his head.

"Hey, something wrong?" I fake concern.

"No... no I'm good," Cal tries to stand up again, but apparently his legs can't hold him up.

"Alright, let's get you to bed. Maybe you're just a little more tired than you think," I say, he let me help him to bed.

"Fuck..." he groans, once he's laying down, "I was really in the mood,"

"Don't worry, rest a bit, and if you feel like it later... we're here," I reassure him, but actually hoping he won't.

"Thank you, my love," he says drifting off to sleep.

I cautiously walks back out of the room and back to Finnick.

He looks at me with expectation written all over his face.

"He's asleep," I whisper, with the biggest smile.

"Yes!" He whisper-shouts.

"God... I wish we could do it every single time," I sigh relieved.

"Unfortunately he would get suspicious, but it's a nice dream," Finnick agrees.

"How much time do you think we have?" I ask sitting with him at the table.

"About... 2 hour and a half... maybe more since he took two chocolates," he explains.

"That's great... this might mean we wouldn't even have to do anything at all..." I chuckle and Finnick does too.

"Alright..." he lowers his voice, "I'm pretty sure, a very good part of the Victors are part of this thing"

"Well, Haymitch for sure... but I don't think he will let Katniss and Peeta know anything," I tell him.

"Why not?" He asks frowning.

"Katniss is basically supervised everywhere she goes... it would be too risky..." I explain simply, "do you know what happened today?"

"What?"

"New Peacemakers arrived in 12," I start, "Plutarch suggested more severe punishments,"

"What? Why?" Finnick almost exclaims, there's a deeper frown on his face now.

"It's a way to let himself in, Snow will never trust him otherwise." I sigh, "it sucks, I know. If Snow grows suspicious, we're fucked."

"I know," he sounds defeated.

"But the thing is," I start again, "this, according to Plutarch, created a perfect opportunity. He was so confident today when I saw him leaving a meeting with Snow, I think the plan is in motion."

" I can't fucking believe," he genuinely smiles, "it's really happening... and I mean, can you believe 13 is still alive?"

"I know!" I exclaim in a whisper, I wish I could just shout it sometimes, "it's crazy."

"You know... for the first time I saw some hope in Mags and not just defeat."

I smile at that, I know how important Mags is for him. When I was assigned to assisting district 4's mentors, Mags was always so kind to us... treating us like family.

"That's really nice to hear," I softly say, gently putting a hand on top of his.

He waits a moment before covering my hand with his other one, stroking it gently. I really should pull away, but this gentle, genuine touch is something I haven't felt in a long time. I look up, Finnick's already looking my way with a soft smile.

"You know, I can't wait." He says.

"For..." I clear my voice, "for what?"

"Finally kiss you." He simply states.

"Finnick... for the millionth time..."

"You don't feel the same... yeah, yeah, yeah." He interrupts me, standing up and taking me with him, "you can lie to yourself, but not to me. What I feel for you is-"

"Is not real." It's my turn to interrupt him.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" He challenges.

"Oh god..." I let out a frustrated sigh, "it's just trauma response, okay? You don't love me, Finn. And I don't love you."

"Okay... so... why didn't you pull away yet and you're letting me, basically, cuddle you?" He challenges again, this actually makes me notice how close we are and how his hands are gently caressing and massaging my body.

I instantly pull away, earning a small laugh from him.

"You really need to stop it," I say, to convince myself, rather than him.

"But you're just so beautiful," he smirks, but it not like Cal's smirk... it's playful, he's not making me uncomfortable, he's just teasing, I know that if he actually made me uncomfortable he would stop right away.

"Alright, stop it." I can't help but let out a chuckle.

"You don't believe yourself either... C'mon." He walks closer to me, "dance with me."

"There's not music and I don't think putting something on will help our case with the sleeping beauty," I remind him.

"Just dance with me, c'mon, love," he holds his hand out for me to take and I do. I let him pull me to him and slowly moving to an imaginary rhythm.

He holds me to me him with so much care I could just melt here and now. I have to admit, it does feel nice.

I just keep reminding myself that it's not love, but two people comforting each other... right?

Right?

As I let Finnick lead, my mind can't help but go to next week event... the announcement of the third Quarter Quell... and my engagement.

I try to shake away the thought and focus on Finnick's body close to mine, how his taller frame is not imposing or constricting, but protective.

I try to focus on the fact that Plutarch's plan is probably going to work... hope.

All I focus about: hope and Finnick.

I'm afraid the two aren't so different for me.

------------

The crowd is cheering like never before.

It's the announcement of the third Quarter Quell, after all.

I watch Snow taking his place in front of all Capitol's citizens, I sit with the rest of 'Capitol's elite' in the back, waiting for the big theme of this year's games.

I can't help but slightly bounce my leg, knowing what's coming after that.

"Are you okay, my sweetness?" Cal's voice startles me, I almost forgot he was next to me.

"Yeah," I force out a smile, "just excited to discover the theme of this year,"

"Plutarch didn't tell you?" He asks taken aback, "I thought he wanted you as an assistant, maybe he didn't have the chance yet... I hope I didn't ruin any surprise,"

"Oh, don't worry, Cal," I say, "I'll try to act surprised."

He smiles at me and I now try to contain my excitement, real excitement. Plutarch did find a way of creating chances for me to stay away from Cal.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Snow starts and my attention is back on him, "This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games" he announces and che crowd cheers and screams, "and it was written in the charter of the Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the 75th anniversary of pur defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell..." as the crowd cheers again, Snow takes out a chard, "... as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol."

Wait...

"On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female Tributes"

I don't like this...

"Are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district."

I can't help my shocked expression, what...? I try to look for Plutarch, but I can't see him.

"Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health or situation."

This is the last place I want to be right now, i can't even listen to any more words from the President's mouth.

I don't even know what to think... if this is Plutarch's idea, I really don't know what he thinks he would get from it...

Oh god...

Finnick...

Finnick said a good part of the Victors are part of this rebellion... maybe that's what Plutarch has in mind.

Fuck.

I snap back at the present when I feel Cal's hand touching mine.

"And now," Snow's voice completely grounds be back, "our very own, Cal Kingslay, would like to say a few words,"

Cal stands up and joins Snow at the front.

"Thank you, president. It's an honour being here today, to celebrate this very special third Quarter Quell," the crowd applauses, "and... I want to thank every single person here today for the support they showed after my father's passing. So I thought to share the following moment with you all,"

My chest tightens, my heart is pounding inside so much it feel like it's about to explode... and I would be glad if it happened.

"There's one person, who's always being there for me... she's the one who always knows hot to make me smile, I only need to think of her and I'm suddenly a lot better... that is why..."

He turns around and walks towards me, my eyes are wide open. I try to make it seems like I'm excited and not absolutely terrified.

He comes in fron of me and goes down on one knee.

"Shit.." I breath out. He nervously smile as he takes something from his jacket.

The interaction would've felt like a very sweet moment... in other circumstances.

"So, Y/n L/n would you give me the honour of becoming my wife?" He asks, opening a small box revealing a silver ring with a stone embedded.

He looks at me and I look at Snow, who's looking at me with a look I know all too well.

"Do it or there would be consequences."

I look back at Cal and move my hand to make him stand, I don't think I would be able to speak without betraying myself, so... I kiss him.

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers - pt 2

Gif not mine

A/N: Not sure about the formatting, copy and paste didn't quite work out as planned. Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Master list here

You miss your stop.

Not only do you miss your stop, but you end up all the way at the bus depot before the driver notices you passed out in one of the seats. The driver, a kindly older gentleman, offers to give you a lift home since it is the end of his shift anyway. He takes pity on you, perhaps due to your tired and sad appearance. Interestingly, no one seems to notice the red wisps behind his eyes.

You appreciate his kindness, but you are anxious about returning home. A quick look at your phone reveals that it is well past 6 PM and you have missed multiple calls and texts from both of your parents. This is not going to end well. In simple terms, you are fucked. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem to notice your restlessness as your leg bounces nervously as he gets closer to your home.

As you exit the vehicle, you politely thank him and offer to pay for the gas, but the man refuses. His accent changes slightly as he says, "anything to help." You shrug it off, as it is not your concern where people are from. Your focus is on more pressing matters. After closing the door, you square your shoulders and mentally prepare for the absolute shit show awaiting you as soon as you step through the front door.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your father’s booming voice is the first to be heard. “Where were you?”

You start with the truth. “Dad I’m sorry, I was on the bus after my exam, I fell asleep with my headphones-”

”I don’t want your excuses! While you live here under our roof, you will show us some respect, you will follow our rules! You had chores to do today, why didn’t you do them?”

A bead of sweat trails down the back of your neck. You hate being interrupted, and you hate being asked questions when they clearly don’t want the answers. Besides, you are in your twenties, not a child. “As I was saying, I-”

This time your mother interrupts. “Don’t speak to your father like that. He asked you a question, we expect you to answer it!.”

You grit your teeth. “I fell asleep on the bus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Always with the excuses this one.” Your father laments. “Do you think your future employer is going to care about any of that? No. He’s just going to want to know why you weren’t there.”

It takes every ounce of your sanity to not snap that your answer is the reason WHY you weren’t there, and not simply an excuse. Instead you hold your tongue. They aren’t here to listen, they don’t care. They just want to yell at you, and for you to be sorry.

“I tell you, with behavior like that it’s any wonder at all you’d even be able to keep a job. They would probably fire you on the spot, and then you would be right back on our doorstep, our problem once again to pick up the pieces.”

It’s all hypothetical of course - you’ve never been late to any of your classes, but you have not yet had a job, you weren’t allowed to. You are sure you wouldn’t be late to it though if you were to treat it like your classes. You know you can’t tell your parents this however. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Yes Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Saying sorry simply doesn't cut it! Sorry doesn’t fix the problem that you caused, so tell me, how are you going to make the problem right?” he demands. A vein throbs in his forehead. Absently you think about how he knows he should watch his blood pressure, but that would require him to watch his temper. Y/D/N could never.

You know what he is looking for, he wants you to do your chores now, but it’s after 8PM and your exam is at 8AM. If you do your chores now, that leaves you little time for last minute studying, eating, bathing, sleeping, and then catching the bus back to the university. Helplessly, you look to your mother for help.

“Don’t look at me, this is your mess you’ve created. If you had just done what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you had just been good, you could be doing whatever it is you do with your free time right now.”

It had always annoyed you greatly that your parents were unaware of your academic achievements. While it's true that you didn't have the best grades as a child, once you entered university and chose a major, you became a straight-A student, even going so far as to make the President’s list the last three years in a row. However, in their eyes, you would always be the little underachiever they had to take care of.

Tears well up in your eyes. This situation wasn't fair. It was an accident. You had fully intended to come home and do your chores, but you couldn’t have known you would sleep through your alarm on the bus. You had been so incredibly exhausted that you experienced a vivid nightmare whilst awake. You were aware that you needed more sleep, but your degree was your only way out of this miserable place. You couldn't risk losing it all just because you missed a few hours of sleep now and then.

“Please?” You beg. You didn’t have anything else to argue in your defense. “I’ll leave my headphones in my bag this time, I’ll set multiple alarms, I won’t sleep, just please let me go study!”

Your parents look at each other, having silent communication. Seeming to come to an agreement, your mother speaks first. “Y/N we’re sorry it has to be this way, but you have already proven on multiple occasions that we can’t trust you to do the right thing. Tonight, you are going to do your chores even if it takes you all night to do it. Besides, we all know you’re not studying up there. For all we know you’re just up there masturbating in the window or something.”

Being stabbed in the chest would have been less painful. You don't understand why you're caught off guard; it's not like your mother hasn't said off the wall shit like this in the past. It's almost as if she thrives on finding the most hurtful and outrageous statements to throw in your face, as if you deserved them. As if you had ever done any of the things she accused you of. Like you were some sort of deviant, when all you wanted was simply the right to exist.

“What the actual fuck, Mom?!” you scream, having finally had enough. Both of your parents look taken aback. Rare is it for you to raise your voice at them, even more so to curse at them. “I know you’ve been pretty checked out of my life for a while now, but I’ve had a 4.0 GPA for the last three years. I don’t know where you got that… comment… from, but I can assure you that all I want to do is go to my room and study.”

“Now listen here young lady,” begins your father.

"No, YOU listen, Father," your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were right about one thing, and that is I am a gods damned adult. I take my studies seriously, and while it may come as a surprise to you since neither of you have paid any actual attention to my life since I turned 18, though it could be argued you really stopped paying attention earlier except for when I was being an inconvenience, but I am actually a great student. This is my last semester before graduating with honors and again, a 4.0 GPA, and I will have my choice of job opportunities. I will leave this place, and you miserable old bats will have no one to be your punching bag anymore. Then maybe just maybe you can finally take a look at the flaws and fix what's wrong with your own marriage, instead of trying to break ME!”

Your chest heaved. It felt good to speak your truth, but as the silence grew, you began to realize that you might have made a mistake.

Your father has finally gotten out of his chair, looming over you. A resounding slap echoes across the room as your father backhanded you, knocking you to the floor. “You ungrateful, miserable little bitch! I don’t know what lies those ‘professors’ at the university have been filling your head with, but you have no future, and you are lucky your mother and I care enough to let you live under our roof! And so long as you do, you will obey our rules, and show us the respect we deserve!”

Fearful, you scramble back to the wall and attempt to push yourself to your feet. “If that’s the price of living here, then I will happily live in the University’s library. One week, that’s all I need!” You step forward to make your escape from this house, but this time your mother shoves you, and once again you find yourself on your knees.

You raise your hands in self-defense, but your mother sneers, "Do it, Y/N, hit me, and you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink!" Crying, you lower your hands and prepare to allow her to strike you.

The lights went out all at once, and everyone froze. Has the power gone out? It couldn’t have, you could still hear the hum of the AC unit. So what was wrong with the lights?

The lights turn back on as suddenly as they had gone out, and all three of you look around in confusion. However, despite the lights returning, the room appears darker, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The shadows cast a looming presence over all of you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your home, which you have lived in for around twenty ish years, suddenly feels foreboding, and you wonder if it's too late to flee. It almost resembles one of the nightmares you have been experiencing recently.

Red mist fills the room, a dreadfully sinister voice speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

All three of you turn to the source of the sound - the corner of the room, as a red and black leather-clad boot, attached to black leather pants, steps through a portal and into the room. The Scarlet Witch follows, radiating her full glory. She warns, "If you wish to keep your body parts intact, you will never lay a finger on Y/N ever again."

You’re pretty sure your eyebrows have never been closer to meeting your hairline before and yet here we are. You don’t know who this unfamiliar lady is, nor how she seems to know you but God damned if that outfit doesn’t look as if it has been painted onto her. You blush at your sinful thoughts. Now is not the time, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a stroke of some sort. If nothing else, however, you are grateful for the reprieve from your beating.

Meanwhile, your parents had never taken well to being told what to do, by anyone, they certainly weren’t going to now by this costumed stranger. Your mother bristles. “Who is this Y/N? Another one of your little whores?” Completely disregarding the fact that you have never in fact had a partner in your entire life, and you don’t know whether to be pleased that she seems to think you’re capable of having a sex life or affronted that she thinks you’re some type of floozy. Your mother’s words, not yours.

“What? No, I-” You look helplessly from the floor between your parents and this woman you now recognize as the one from your visions, and the same one from your hallucination this morning. Is she here to help, or to hurt you? She has been your savior and aggressor in both; there’s no telling which she has chosen for now. Glancing between them, you are unsure how to de-escalate this situation. There is no way to convince your parents, for their own safety, that this woman is powerful and not to be trifled with. Nothing you could say, they would believe, and you were pretty sure this woman would kill your parents without a second thought if they didn’t tread carefully.

Seeming to sense your struggle, the woman speaks up in your stead. “As I’ve said, you would do well to keep your hands to yourself. I am here to take Y/N with me, and you will not stand in my way. This is your only warning, which I am giving to you out of consideration for Y/N.”

She reaches down for your hand to help you back up. Hesitantly, you take it, ignoring the shock that runs throughout your body, and begin questioning your entire reality. Take you with her? Who even is she? Where exactly is she going to be taking you? You had questions, and you would like some answers, but if you didn’t get your parents to stand down, you were pretty sure she would follow through on her threat. Sure, your parents were trash, but they were all you had. You loved them, and you were certain that, in their own warped way, they loved you, too.

She helps you up and proceeds to give you a thorough once-over, carefully inspecting your injuries. Her intense scrutiny makes you blush. Meanwhile, your parents remain silent, their thinly veiled anger evident as they observe your interaction. How dare this woman speak to them in such a manner? Thankfully, they wisely choose to keep quiet. Perhaps they also sense the dangerous aura emanating from this woman, perceiving her as a true threat. Then again, it could be due to the fact that she just stepped through a literal portal conjured out of thin air moments ago. Maybe they had been paying attention, but even you are unsure of what is real anymore.

Still holding your hand, the Scarlet Witch leads you back towards the portal she arrived through. "Come, Y/N, we have much to discuss." At this point, all you could do was helplessly trail after, hoping you weren't going from bad to worse. At least by leaving, your parents would be out of danger. As for yourself, well... It was clear that the Scarlet Witch wanted something from you. Hopefully, whatever that was would be sufficient to ensure your survival. Perhaps even enough to negotiate with.

At the last possible moment, your mother chooses, whether out of genuine love and concern for your well-being, or fear at the loss of her control over you, to reach out to take you from this bizarre woman. “Mother, no!”

Y/M/N finds herself promptly flung onto the wall behind her, and stuck there, unable to move. You aren’t sure who exactly screamed but you’re pretty sure it was every member of your family. The Scarlet Witch hadn’t even turned to look, the only indication she had even been involved is the raised hand, opposite the one holding yours, with dark, ink-stained fingertips, bent at slightly odd angles.

“Stop, please! Let her go, she won’t do it again, please! I'm sorry, please!”

Unsure of why you are begging for this woman’s life when she has spent the entirety of yours making sure you were miserable. Still, your heart lurched at the thought of anything happening to your mother. You didn’t like her, and if you never saw her again, that was probably for the best, but you certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

The Witch took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself, before turning to face you.

In the softest voice you had ever heard she whispers “Detka, I-.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, deciding what to say. To your absolute mortification and delight, she leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, and promises “I will let them live, but I must say my piece.”

You nod, completely dumbstruck at everything happening in this moment. What. The. Fuck.

Y/M/N, still pinned to the wall, whimpers and struggles to move but is clearly unable to. The Scarlet Witch turns from you to face your parents. Another wave of her hand, and your mother slumps to the floor, alarmed, but otherwise unharmed. It is clear whatever the witch did, both she and your father are now restrained.

Footsteps approach the pair, and the lights in the house flickered ominously. Despite your mother being nearly 40 years older than her (or so you assumed, as you had no idea of this woman's age), the power emanating from her exuded confident malevolence. She showed no fear towards them, and for once, although ashamed to admit it, you were glad to see that they were afraid of someone else.

Though she was only about 5'6", the woman knelt before your parents, her voice filled with menacing intent. "I know everything you have ever done, everything you ever could do, and everything you ever will do. I know what you are guilty of. I know what you deserve, and I can assure you that it is not mercy. I will spare your lives and leave you unharmed due to the kindness of your daughter, the daughter you’ve abused for decades." As her head tilts, you can't help but feel that she becomes even more dangerous. "But if you ever try to take her from me again, I will seek retribution on her behalf, and I promise you it will be the most excruciating agony you have ever experienced. Do we understand each other?"

You squirm uncomfortably. This should not be doing things to you, but then again, no one had ever stood up for you. Ever. Gods you needed therapy. It’s fine. Little boxes, and this was for a little box for later.

The witch stood up and once again took your hand, leading you through the portal and leaving your parents behind. Perhaps for good, you weren’t entirely sure, and you suddenly realized you didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here; even if this woman was dangerous, at least for the moment, she seemed to care about you, and that was enough for you to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Again, therapy…

The pair arrive at a massive stone temple, which you would later learn is called Mount Wundagore, the Scarlet Witch's temple. It is built into a massive, rugged mountain with steep cliffs, situated above dense forests and enveloped in mist. The mountain exudes an air of mystique and possesses an eerie atmosphere. Scattered across its walls are depictions of the woman in front of you, accompanied by various runes whose significance you suppose hint at a potentially supernatural importance.

The Scarlet Witch does not make much of an effort for introductions, nor explanations, simply heads towards the entrance to her temple.

“What is this place?” you ask, hints of awe and fear in your voice

“Our home.” 

Your brain stutters. “I’m sorry, what now?” 

“Detka, do not pretend you did not hear me, I don’t enjoy repeating myself. This is our home.” Her accent sounds vaguely Eastern European, and becomes more pronounced the more irritated she is. You wonder when she started trying to hide it.

Your mind balks at the idea of this being your new home, it couldn’t be less foreboding. “Uhhh… this.. is a giant stone temple in BFE nowhere, with ice, snow, and-”

Movement startles you out of your reverie. Beings made entirely out of stone shift from foot to foot, as if adjusting their stance. Their eyes have the same red glow as the woman who leads you now.  

 “Are those rock trolls??” The stone guardians loom threatening, but make no move to engage, they await their Queen’s orders. “Right. Rock trolls. Why is this our home? WHERE is our home? And,” you spin, taking the aesthetic of the temple in, trying not to have an anxiety attack. “What do you mean -our- home? Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

You can’t tell if the faint twitch of the other woman’s lips is in amusement or annoyance at your ramblings, but in your defense, she had let you speak uninterrupted. You were known for getting entire paragraphs out if left unsupervised - it was a talent and a curse. Personally you felt she should be grateful you weren’t jumping down her throat, you didn’t know anyone else who would be taking this half as calmly as you were. Then again, you were still waiting on your Hogwarts acceptance letter at 25. 

“My name is..” she hesitated. “Wanda. I am.. I was an Avenger.”

You looked on blankly, hoping she would elaborate. The fuck was an “Avenger”?

"In my universe," (you filed away the fact that she implied the existence of a multiverse for later, as it was a problem for another time) "the Avengers are superheroes. Well, that's what we called ourselves - Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A bit arrogant, if you ask me. We dealt with threats that the military and ordinary people couldn't handle. We were the last line of defense. We saved the world countless times, but at a great cost of lives. We were vain, thinking we were above it all because we believed we were acting for the greater good. But try explaining that to those who were lost as collateral damage.

I digress. We.. were considered to be heroes. There were several of us, we were a team. A family. We lived together, fought together. Died together. Until we didn’t.”

Wanda explains the dynamics of the Avengers team, including how she and her brother Pietro joined. She mentions Pietro's death in the battle against Ultron, as well as the events leading up to and the battle against Thanos. She also covers the events of the “Blip”, and what happened afterward. However, she conveniently chooses to omit the events of Westview, as she didn't want you to know about that just yet.

“That’s.. wow. Wanda, that's a lot. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen your powers myself, I wouldn’t believe you. But all of that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You mentioned your universe as being so fantastical, why would you come here? And what do you want with me? If you’re a hero, why are you here in what totally looks like a villain’s lair and not with your other superhero buddies?” You neglect to mention the unease creeping up your spine.

This is fine. Everything is fine. Right? Right. 

A look of utter despair crosses the witches face as she locks eyes with you before glancing away.

“I mentioned my team before, but I didn’t mention you.”

“…” You slow blink. This was not how you thought your day was going to go, and honestly, you were already getting a bit of a headache. Could she be less cryptic because that would be great. More details, fewer questions. Maybe another nap.

"Y/N, where I am from, you were also an Avenger. You had joined the team before Pietro and I, and were one of the few who made us feel welcome. Despite the fact that we had previously been enemies, you didn't treat us as ticking time bombs. Instead, you welcomed us with open arms. Your go-to tactics were kindness and understanding, which made it hard not to want to get to know you. When Pietro died, you were the only one who checked on me and cared. You taught me that grief is just love persevering. You became my closest friend, and over time, I couldn't help when those feelings began growing into something more.”

You swallow uncomfortably. It sounds like Wanda is telling you that in this other universe you both were an item. It’s not that you wouldn’t be honored to be with such an attractive woman, but it feels weird knowing that that was a different version of you. Someone with superpowers, someone likely more confident by the sounds of it. This feels almost as if you are intruding on something you shouldn’t, yet Wanda is the one telling you this; if it weren’t okay for you to know, she surely wouldn’t be sharing. You don’t really know what to make of this; if she has feelings for this other you, why is she here with this version of you?

“In the battle against Thanos, we learned that the source of your powers was an infinity stone embedded in your skull courtesy of H.Y.D.R.A. experiments, which altered your genetic DNA. Thanos had also learned you possessed this Mind Stone and sought to take it from you by force.”

Anguish on her features, the witch turns to you. “You were going to die, Y/N. We tried, I tried, so hard to protect you, to keep you away from him but at every turn he found you. If he had gotten the Mind Stone, he would have been able to enact his plan to rid the universe of half of all life. You told me.” She hiccups.

“Y-you told me it was okay, that you forgive me. That I needed to.. that I needed to destroy the stone to save the universe. I didn’t want to. I would have given anything else but that. But you held my hand and told me you forgave me, that you only felt me. Then Thanos came, and we were out of time. I was the only one with the power to do it because its magic was so similar to my own. I placed my hand to your head and I-.” She is unable to continue, breaking off into sobs.

Oh. So she had to sacrifice you to save the universe. Well. You agree with the alternate you, you didn’t blame her, and you would definitely forgive her. Awkwardly you try to find some way to comfort her. While obviously you were not the same person she had loved and lost, and you knew from your own experiences with loss that sometimes words just couldn’t cut it. Instead, you shuffle forward, making sure you were heard in case she wanted to refuse you, and pullher  in for a hug.

Wanda tenses in your embrace, as if she can’t decide if she wants to sink into it or send you flying. “The worst part,” she continues, “was that it meant nothing.”

If you were a dog your head tilt might have been cute.

“In the end, Thanos was still able to get the Mind Stone, and you were still dead, by MY hand, and it all meant NOTHING!” Wanda wrenches herself from your grasp, looking positively unhinged. You probably should have been scared. You weren’t. Her wrath did… things… to you. Therapy…

“All because Strange saw supposedly every possible future and CHOSE to let you die to save everyone else. As if there was no other possible outcome!”

Oh, that... that makes more sense. The other you was still dead, and Wanda was definitely suffering from PTSD from her involvement in it. Her little stunt with your parents was probably her way of trying to save you or bring you back to life. But in your universe, there weren't any superheroes, magic, or Thanos to protect you from (that you were aware of at any rate). So what was Wanda doing? This wouldn't bring her version of you back to life. You may have looked and sounded alike, and you might have made similar decisions, but you simply weren't the same person. The lack of the same life experiences meant that you had different personalities, despite having a similar genetic build.

“So we saved the world, and I left to live in exile. After the funeral, Clint handed me your belongings, and in them was a letter. A deed to a plot of land you had purchased in our names where we were going to build a house. I think it was supposed to be a surprise after we defeated Thanos. We had never lost before, not since Pietro - I don’t think it occurred to us that we could. So I drove out to see and.. Y/N I was still so new to my powers. They were still mostly subconscious. I was grieving and... it would be easier if I show you. May I?”

“May you.. what?”

A subtle smile appears on the witches' face at your ignorance. You are tempted to mention how beautiful she looks with that smile. Shaking off the thought, you ponder if she can read your mind, as her smile becomes knowing and a slight blush colors her cheeks. Ink-stained fingers reach towards your temple, but she hesitates, waiting for your consent, and your heart fills with warmth. You nod once, despite not really understanding.

Her charcoal-colored fingers, cold to the touch, make contact with your temple. Just as you're about to complain about the lack of warning, you're abruptly transported into a completely different world, surpassing the immersive experience of any 3D movie you've ever seen. You not only hear and see everything in every direction, but you can also feel and smell it all. It feels as if you are truly present in that moment. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you are witnessing someone else's memories, to be precise, Wanda's memories.

She starts her memory with the unexploded bomb created by Tony Stark, which sat in the middle of the rubble of the Maximoff residence. In that chaotic scene, there were two children, the twins, hiding in fear under a bed. However, before you could offer any comfort, the scene shifted. The twins had been taken to HYDRA, where they were subjected to brutal experiments. Witnessing their suffering broke your heart, and despite your best efforts, you were unable to interact with your surroundings, although you desperately tried. Repeatedly you threw yourself against the walls of the cells in which the twins were held, hoping to free them from their hellish situation. You observed the twins' powers first emergence: Pietro's as he attempted to reach his sister's side, and Wanda's as she tried to defend Pietro from the scientists.

Scene after scene, each one as traumatic, if not more so, than the last, depicting all the events from Ultron and beyond. And then there's you. Except, it's not really you. You've certainly never possessed the power of teleportation, nor have you ever been so self-assured. This must be Wanda's universe's version of you. With bright eyes and a warm demeanor, you appear as a beacon of light in Wanda's otherwise bleak life. You observe as the version of you in this universe warmly welcomes the twins to the team, a stark contrast as to how the rest of the team treats the newcomers ranging from suspicious to openly hostile.

It’s surreal, watching yourself from outside your own body, knowing this version isn’t really you, but still no less real of a person. Wanda’s memories begin focusing less on missions and more on interpersonal relationships. Specifically, the one developing between yourself and Wanda. It’s intimate and you feel like an intruder watching this unfold. Sadly, as you grow closer, Wanda loses the only other connection she has - Pietro is hit by stray bullets while saving children. A true hero, and there was nothing anyone on the team could do to prevent it. You watch in horror both for the loss of Pietro as a friend, as well as knowing the absolute devastation this will cause your beloved Witch.

You can tell at this point that that’s what she was to you. It hasn't been long, but that bond has clearly already been sealed; you can see the signs in both your alternate self and Wanda. You would have to be blind not to. The loss of her brother does terrible things to Wanda and it’s all your other self can do to try to keep her afloat. “What is grief but love persevering?”

The scene shifts again. Time has clearly passed, and Wanda appears to have healed to some extent. She and the team have become much more cohesive, which delights both versions of you. Your relationship has definitely progressed, if the blush currently gracing your face, extending to your ears, is any indication. You feel the remnants of the emotions from your alternate self. They are not yours, but neither are they entirely unfamiliar. It makes for a disconcerting sensation to say the least. You don’t know Wanda like that, even though this version of you does. You wish you could view these memories dispassionately, free from your alternate self’s emotions that are bleeding through, but you suspect that’s not possible. Once again you try to reassure yourself that you are not the same person, no matter the genetic makeup.

Jarring you from your reverie, next you find yourself in another battle, and this one is massive. There are more superheroes here than you have ever seen before, either in Wanda's memories or in films. This must be the fight against Thanos she had told you about. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you contemplate what it will be like to witness your own death.

Traumatizing, for sure, though not for the reasons you had expected. While you are unable to interact with your environment, you are able to freely move about. Instead of looking at the memory entirely from Wanda’s perspective, you move to stand beside yourself. Wanda stands before you, ethereal, magnificent, yet utterly devastated. She knows what she has to do and pleads with you not to make her. It is unjust for a woman so powerful to suffer such loss, and still you implore her to sacrifice your life, her happiness, for the sake of the rest of the universe. It is unfair. It is cruel. You know it, but you ask anyway.

She never could tell you “no.”

You know the moment this universe's version of you had died when you witness the sheer devastation on Wanda's face. Most people would probably look away, but you couldn't. For some unknown reason, you feel compelled to witness this moment in all its horrifying detail, if only to gain a true understanding of the witch and the immense pain she has endured. There were surely few things more intimate than allowing someone to share their own memories, and here Wanda was, granting you unrestricted access to hers. The least you could do was accept this gift she was offering, no matter how painful it might be.

The images that follow blur together, evoking your personal experiences with grief and a sense of detachment from the world. The funeral is somber, one and all everyone dressed in black and grey. Wanda is present only in body, and you can’t blame her. Clint, the archer, hands her your belongings, including the letter she had mentioned. It unnerves you how detached Wanda appears to be at this moment, despite being surrounded by friends and colleagues. You worry about what lies ahead for her. So much loss in such a short time, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know this would surely take a toll on her. You prayed that her friends came to check on her, but you had a feeling either they didn’t, or in her grief, she refused them entry.

Colors blend into one another and fade out. You find yourself standing on a plot of land in a town called Eastview, crouching next to Wanda as she collapses to her knees. Her body is wracked with anguished sobs as she finally allows herself to grieve. You wish you could interact with this memory, to hold her and alleviate some of her pain, even if only for a moment. Instead, you sit with her, sharing in her pain as she releases it all into the world. Wanda allows herself to experience her grief in its entirety, no longer burying her feelings beneath a veneer of numbness. Colors leech from the world around her, turning it greyscale. You're pretty certain that even at their strongest, the average person's manifestation of grief isn't supposed to do that, but then again, the average person isn't the Scarlet Witch. Briefly, you wonder what consequences this will have on her world. Your head feels fuzzy, and as your vision fades to black, you suppose you are about to find out.

You regain consciousness and find yourself in a world entirely devoid of color. Disoriented, you blink as the details of your surroundings slowly come into focus. In front of you stands... well... yourself. Or rather, an alternate version of you who appears to be from the 1950s, slightly older but still alive. Seated beside 1950’s you is Wanda, also monochrome and dressed in 1950s attire. Blearily, you rub your eyes. It has been a long day, and you are extremely tired, unsure if this is just an incredibly vivid hallucination or if you have actually passed out somewhere.

Alternate you asks Wanda a question, to which you aren’t listening, and she replies with a quip - you still aren’t listening, wondering where you are and why everything is in greyscale. What catches you off-guard though, is the surround sound laugh track that‘s garnered in response. It’s galling to admit but you jump, startled, and look around. There’s no one else in the house besides yourself, the alternate version of you, and Wanda. Where did that come from?

Alternate you replies to Wanda, and again with the laugh track. This time you are not as startled, but no less unsettled. What fresh hell is this? Could this be Wanda’s doing? It doesn’t seem like you can ask her though, as you’re just a passive observer in this strange situation. The last thing you remember, Wanda was grieving in Eastview at the plot of land which alternate you had purchased to start your life together after retiring from being superheroes. Strange grey wiggly woos (as you were starting to refer to her magic) were emanating from the witch, quite different from the familiar scarlet color you had grown accustomed to.

Perhaps this was her doing, if only subconsciously. You tried to recall, didn’t Wanda mention something about her powers being new to her and mostly unintentional? This could be what she had been referring to. Apprehension made a home in your chest as you found yourself dreading whatever was about to unfold before you. Oh no, Wanda, what did you do?

It doesn’t take long after observing the hijinks and mishaps, for you to realize that Wanda's grief had manifested through her powers. She had transformed the town of Eastview into Westview, resembling a 1950s-style sitcom town. Wanda, along with an alternate version of yourself (if you were truly still alive - that part you hadn't figured out yet), and the entire town were trapped. While it may have started unintentionally, Wanda became aware of it and began actively using her powers to maintain her idyllic town, keeping it isolated from the outside world and preventing the townspeople from leaving. In her grief, Wanda was essentially playing house, holding everyone hostage. However, despite her powers growing stronger, it was clear that the people living there were suffering. If you could even consider their existence as living.

There were even two boys - twins, just like Wanda was a twin. Your heart broke, knowing this could not possibly end well. While technically not "real" and not even "yours" at that, watching these boys be born, live, and grow caused you to cultivate a love for them almost as if they were your own. Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest; you didn't want to see how this plays out, but you didn't have a choice.

Despite the dysfunction in your parents, you had always wanted a family of your own. An attempt to break the cycle and bring new life - happy and healthy - into this world. You wanted to raise your kids with the love and care you had never experienced yourself.

You understood the motivations of the witch, but that didn't justify her morally questionable choices. Once again, you are condemned to remain on the sidelines, unable to take any action to resolve the situation. You are forced to witness this charade unfold, hoping and praying that it would end well for everyone involved, yet knowing that it would not. How could it possibly?

Despite your bias, after witnessing everything Wanda had endured, you found yourself wishing for the best outcome for her, in particular. Among all the people you could think of, she deserved a break from the misery that had plagued her life until now.

Eventually, it all came to a head when another witch named Agatha Harkness had infiltrated the town with a book called the Darkhold, attempting to convince Wanda to join her and increase their powers. If Wanda refused, the witch planned to take Wanda's powers for herself. Something about a prophecy regarding a Scarlet Witch.

Meanwhile, the alternate version of you had become self-aware of the true nature of Westview. This version of you pleaded with Wanda to prioritize the wellbeing of others over her own happiness, once again. They urged Wanda to defeat Agatha and free the townspeople, even if it meant losing her spouse and children. It was an impossible choice, and you questioned whether you could have mustered the courage to make the same decision in Wanda’s position.

Wanda defeated Agatha, not that you ever doubted her for a moment. She said goodbye to you, again, and then to her boys, and released her spell. The town was free, but her family.. was gone. Wanda was once again on her own.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you awaken from the memories. It feels like it’s been ages, but from what you can tell, it must only have been minutes since Wanda first began sharing her memories with you. “Oh.”

Cringe. You wish you could have said something, anything more eloquent. Unfortunately, you feel as though you've just been hit by a Mack truck and could nap for a week. It doesn’t help that you were still feeling the effects of lack of sleep for the last couple of weeks. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good, is it okay if I lay down somewhere…?” A quick glance around the temple makes you second guess the question you were about to ask. Stone floors did not make a good bed.

With a tone much softer than she had been using, she replied. "Of course, Detka, you only need to ask." 

An elegant wave of her slender fingers and gone is the stone temple, replaced by a cozy bedroom. At a cursory glance, you can tell it is a sanctuary of comfort and tranquility, featuring a plush, inviting bed. The room is adorned with personal touches, such as framed photographs of you and Wanda, and artwork that is somehow absolutely your aesthetic. Shelves display a carefully chosen selection of your favorite books, each waiting to be explored. These items add character and give the space a feeling that is unique to you, even though you have never set foot in this place before.

“Come,” A glimpse of Wanda and you are surprised to discover instead of her red and black uniform, she is now garbed in an oversized sweater and some cotton sweatpants.

“You have been holding space for others for so long, it is time you took some well-deserved rest. You work much too hard.”

“Uh s-sure.” About to make a comment that perhaps you should also change, but looking down to find that you are wearing your favorite worn Legolas shirt and some pajama shorts.

“Right. Rest.” Part of you wants to ask when you can return to your home so you can finish studying for your exams, but based on previous conversation, context clues tell you that’s the least of your concerns right now, and Wanda probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that topic of discussion right now.

Wanda takes your hand, leading you to the bed and it takes your overworked brain far longer than you care to admit to realize that she means for you both to share it. Your brain short-circuits at all the factors at play here: Knowing that you yourself are touch-starved; this absolute enchantress of a woman dated an alternate universe’s version of you, even going so far as basically playing housewife and mother of your children, and here she was asking you to share a bed. Sure, she wasn’t asking you to sleep with her, but she was still asking you to share a bed next to her and what if you accidentally spooned her in your sleep, and what if-

”You’re thinking too loudly, malysh.”

“What? You can- you’re a mind reader?!” you panic, backpedaling mentally, praying to every deity that existed that you hadn’t had any unsavory thoughts in her presence, and nearly fainting as you recalled that you in fact, had some rather explicit thoughts from the moment you first saw her.. The mortification alone was enough to put you into an early grave. You weren’t sure how you had missed that during everything she had shown you, but you reasoned you were probably more focused on the physical manifestations of her powers. 

"Relax, Y/N. I don't intentionally read minds, at least not anymore. Sometimes, surface thoughts are so loud that I can't help but hear them. Like right now, you're practically yelling them at me," she said, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

Unfortunately, while you were no longer freaking out about having accidentally offended the witch, you were now spiraling down a different path. You were agonizing over the pain you had, and likely were still causing her by thinking so loudly. If you remembered any media involving mind reading, the person with the ability usually suffered greatly at the hands of others unintentionally. Naturally, the average person didn't know how to shield their thoughts, and you were afraid that you might be giving her a migraine. To the woman who had only tried to bring you to a safe place and offer you shelter. 

You began to hyperventilate.

Wanda could see that you were spiraling, even without being a mind reader. It was written clearly on your face. However, being able to hear your thoughts helped her identify the source of your anxiety, and she berated herself for not considering that earlier. This version of you lacked confidence, and it was now Wanda's responsibility to help rebuild it. At least, according to her.

"Your parents really did a number on you, didn't they, detka?"

Cool hands gently held your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, Wanda invades your personal space, and the scent of vanilla fills your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from what was happening.

"We're just going to take a nap, okay Y/N? You don't have to worry about anything. I'm not bothered by any of those thoughts you have." A leering grin unfurls across her face.

“If anything I’m quite flattered by them.” She winks.

Heat flashes across your body, and you can’t tell if you were embarrassed, aroused, or both. Unfortunately, you knew your thoughts were likely betraying you. Gods, if only the floor could just open up right now and swallow you into the abyss. Yes, that would be fantastic.

"However, there is time enough for such things later. It's been years, Y/N, and I've just got you back. Nap with me, please?" The witch's eyes gaze longingly into yours, and well, when she looks at you like that, how could you say "no"?

She leads you to the bed and, with the practiced ease of her time in Westview, pulls you into her embrace as the little spoon. Earlier, you had been worried about accidentally touching her inappropriately or having a dirty dream. Now though, with her arms wrapped so protectively around you, sleep claims you almost instantaneously.

[lilac-witch]

yayayayay requests are open!!! can i request a helion x reader with the prompt “"Stop running from your feelings!" "Then stop making me feel this way!" maybe with a reader who struggles with ~emotions~

Foofaraw - Helion x Reader

masterlist

Summary: Y/n has lived in Day Court all her life, and has been Helion's friend for a vast majority of it. She's watched females fall for him left, right and centre, and watched him entertain their affections. But she won't let herself become one of the flock. Meaning: "a great fuss or disturbance about something very insignificant" Word Count: 531 Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes mentioned (not in great detail)

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"And then, she 'accidently' spilt wine on my robes and whisked me away to remedy the matter, if you know what I'm saying."

"Mhm," Y/n mumbled, head lolling in her palm as she listened to Helion recount his latest fling.

"Something the matter, sunbeam?" he asked, head cocking in question.

Y/n felt her heart flutter. That damn nickname. Helion had used it for centuries, but it never ceased to invoke a reaction.

"Nothing at all. Just realized I forgot to pick something up from the jewelers," she said, brushing off her skirts as she stood.

Helion frowned. "When did you go to the jewelers? And why wasn't I invited? We usually go together."

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, taking small steps towards the door. "You've been busy lately, Helion. I didn't want to intrude on your private time."

"You didn't want to intrude on my private time?" Helion deadpanned, his smile quickly transforming into a scowl.

She nodded, watching the beautiful brown skin of his face crease in frustration, watched as the sun became a storm cloud.

"When in 500 years of friendship, when have you ever cared about scheduling your time with me?"

"Since I realized that your time seems to be better spent elsewhere."

Her words were sharp, cutting deep into the male before her. She watched the frown between her brows crease further, confusion and anger laced in his eyes.

"I have spent the better half of 500 years watching you entertain men and women you have no intention to settle down with. I have been subjected to the retellings of your sexual prowess, and it has come time where I'm sick of it, Helion! I'm sick of listening to your fucking bed slamming against the wall night-in and night-out, knowing that the males and females who share your bed will never be me."

Y/n was out of breath by the end of it, chest heaving from the expulsion of years worth of anguish.

"Well then maybe you should stop running away from your feelings!" Helion snapped, eyes blazing, teeth bared in challenge.

"Then stop making me feel this way!" she snapped back, her own face morphing into a snarl.

What happened next remains a mystery within her memories. One moment they were at each others throats, the next Helion's lips were on hers, bruising and warm. They slipped into a rhythm with something that can only be described as practiced ease, as if everything was finally right in the world.

Their eyes met as they parted, pupils blown wide, mouths open and gasping for breath.

"It's always been you, sunbeam," Helion muttered, as he brushed a stray hair behind her pointed ear. "I thought you didn't return my affections, so I sought comfort elsewhere, but none of them could compare to you."

Y/n felt her eyes water. Fools. They were such absolute fools.

"I'm yours," he whispered, "if you'll have me."

And then she smiled. "I don't like to share what's mine."

Helion's face lit up, the embodiment of the sun. "Well then, it's a good thing I don't plan on sharing either."

"No more running?"

"No more running, sunbeam. No more running."

-------------

Happy April Fools lovelies!

I have more posts coming, so stay tuned:) Also, I'm planning to start a tag list, so if you would like to be added, please indicate so in the comments. Once again, my inbox is open to requests ;)

[hvnnibvni]

Together Again | JJK *part 1*

Pairings: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.

Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.

Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.

Authors note: Hi! Sorry it’s so late but here it is. I hope you guys enjoy. I’m making this into a series. I feel like it’s a little unprofessional not to have a masterlist but I’m working on that too. Just bare with me please in new to this lol. Also feel free to ask me any questions, or express your honest opinions Im all ears good or bad. Should I make a tag list?

——————————————————————

‘How the fuck did I get here’

You thought as you sat in you car, filled with you things. You had just left the home YOU bought after catching your boyfriend Yunwoo cheating one you.. With your supposedly best friend. Sitting there thinking, you should’ve saw the signs. They were there right in front of your face. You felt like a fool. Luckily you’ve always kept a cool head, or else you would’ve done something you’d regret. You honestly wished you did. You wanted them to hurt just as much as they hurt you, but you knew if wouldn’t change anything so why stress yourself out about it. But silence is the best way to get under someone’s skin isn’t it. No matter how much he cried and apologized. You didn’t turn back, you’ll never go back to him. That a promise you made to yourself on you journey back home.

Earlier that day:

“Hey y/n what can I get you” the barista, you’ve gotten to know over the years asks, “Let me have my usual please Janine, oh! And can you serve it really hot please, thank you.” You were making you your normal daily rounds that day, which normally started out with a hot coffee at your favorite cafe when you realized you forgot you wallet back at the house. “Ah actually scratch that. I seem to have left my wallet at home.” You say, making the sudden realization. “You know what don’t walruses about it it’s on the house,” Janine says with a smile. “That you so much I appreciate the generosity, but I have to go back home anyway. I’ll come back and pay for the coffee.” You just couldn’t shake this strange feeling telling you to go back home. Your boyfriend of 5 years seemed was acting strange this morning. Being overly sweet all of a sudden, waking you up, making you breakfast. It just seemed like he was trying to get you out of the house.

when you pull into the driveway you see his car still out front, but you didn’t find that as strange as you best friend, Cristal car along side his. “Strange,” you say to yourself as you pull into the driveway. She never texted that she was coming over, but you check you phone to be safe. But you still can’t shake the uneasy feeling you have in your gut that something fishy is going on inside your home without you knowing. The calm rational you is telling you to just walk in your home as if it’s nothing, but the bad bitch part of you is telling you to unlock your fence and sneak in though the back door. So that’s just what you do. As you’re sneaking inside your house you notice clothes spread all across you living room floor training up the stairs to your bedroom. “Oh hell nah I know these motherfuckers ain’t- okay.” You whisper to yourself as you tiptoe up the stairs.

As you reach your bedroom you hear the faint sound of laughter behind the door. You decide to listen in on the conversation before letting your presence known. “Why don’t you just leave her already. She can’t make you happy the way I do.” You hear Cristal say. “I’m just waiting for the right time Cristal you know how she can be. She so clingy, she acts like she can’t live without me,” Yunwoo explains to Cristal. You scoff to yourself as head this. “Mmcht yeah right like this isn’t my house you’re freeloading it.” You number to yourself as you lean in closer to get a better listen. No one knew that you were he one that made all the money between you two. Yunwoo didn’t have a job and was too embarrée to move back in with his parents after he dropped out of college. So you bought this home for the both of you to stay in. You on the other hand were and heiress to one of the most biggest, prestigious designing companies in the world. In other words you’re the 1 percent of the q percent. But you’ve always kept it a secret, because it is taboo to mention your wealth in front of other people who are less fortunate.

“well I just don’t see how it’s right to keep pretending and leading her on like this. Im starting to get annoyed just looking at her. She’s so pathetic.” At this point you e already opened the door. They look at you in shock to see you home this early. “Y/n-“ you hold up your hand. Not trying to hear a single word coming out of yunwoo’s mouth, already disgusted. You don’t speak of give them the time of day. Of course you have lots to say, say you listened to their conversation you realized that these people were below you. These people betrayed your trust, and defiled your home. They’re worth less than the dirt on a dog’s paw. And what do you look like speaking to those who aren’t even worthy enough to lick the dirt off of your dogs feet? “Y/n please let’s talk about this like adults.” Yunwoo pleads. All you can do is scoff ass you go around the room and gather your things.

“Yunwoo baby just let her go. You don’t need something like that anyways. She’s not worth the time,” Cristal says picking through her nails. “You know what Cristal you’re right. I don’t need this. I deserve better and y/n baby you can’t give that to me. I’m on to better things in life. While you’re going to be stuck a sad, lonely, bitter, insignificant, bitch no one can stand. So go on. Leave.” Yunwoo, who has more than audacity says to you. You, the classy person you are smile at him, gather your clothes, jewelry, and dog walk away. Leaving everything behind.

[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Fic tag)

✨The final part!!✨ I just added a warning for implied sex since I did a last minute adjustment. I hope yall had fun reading this throughout the week! 🩷 And for those who prefer to read everything in one-go, enjoy!!

WC: ~550

Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink, implied sex

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @lostfirefly @ane5e @fanaticsnail

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

“Captain…”

Shit. He definitely didn’t imagine it. This was a problem. Did you know? Were you messing with him? He needed to find out.

Buggy flew out of his room before reigning himself in. There were plenty of people still awake and he didn’t want to drag attention to himself. He strode to the bathroom, unsure what he would do when he got there. What he would say to you. What he would ask.

It didn’t matter though. By the time he got to the bathroom, it was empty. You were gone. All that was left was steam and a message on the mirror.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Was this message really for him? Were you actually waiting for him? Why? Was it a trick? Buggy’s mind was reeling, torn between the fucked up fantasies he’s been indulging in and what little grasp on reality he still had.

An unexpected sensation pulled him from the cyclone of thoughts. A warm breath on his ear. His ear…where was it? It wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.

Lips grazed his missing appendage and he shuddered.

“Captain? Did you find my message yet?”

Buggy's breath stopped in his chest as you whispered directly to him.

“I know your secret,” you teased. “I know what you’ve been doing, you perv. You’re a dirty guy, you know?”

He whimpered.

“Wanna know my secret?”

“Yes,” Buggy gasped to no one.

“I bet you do…my secret is that I like it. I like knowing that you touch yourself to me, captain.”

Buggy’s hand flew to his aching dick. If you liked it, he’d keep doing it.

“You’re probably touching yourself right now, you creep.”

He whimpered again.

“Would you stop if I told you to?”

He stopped.

“Would you screw me if I asked you to? I think I’d like that a lot more.”

Buggy’s legs moved before you finished that question.

“Please don’t keep me waiting too lon-”

You were interrupted by a frantic knocking and a breathless demand to open the fucking door.

---

Your sheets were soaked with sex and sweat by the time you two were drained and exhausted.

Buggy wasn’t sure if he was falling asleep or blacking out. His back was pressed against your chest and you were warm. So very warm.

“How’d you find out?” Buggy mumbled through the edges of sleep.

“Your boots are loud.”

Right. He knew that. He should have known it was a give away.

“I also had your ear on purpose.”

Now he was awake. Before Buggy could roll over, you held him tighter.

“Accidentally on purpose,” you laughed. “I found it earlier that day and put it in my pocket. I forgot and only remembered when I heard you outside my door. By then, it was too late.”

“Too late…”

“Well, I might have stopped if you knocked. But it sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Silence hung in the room as the words sunk in.

“You tricked me into listening to your- your debauchery, just so you could get off!" Buggy’s hands broke free and gestured wildly in the air. “You’re the pervert! You corrupted me,” he huffed offendedly. Provokingly.

“You were always a dirty freak, captain. Don’t be a liar too,” you said against his ear before giving it a small bite.

Buggy groaned softly through the smile on his face. He was a dirty freak. A depraved degenerate. A pathetic pervert. And so were you.

[sailor-aviator]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Mean girl Mandy, Flirting, Alcohol, Siren call, Supernatural elements, Kind of suggestive/smutty but not really? idk

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Alright, alright! The ball is starting to roll! We've got a lot going on now, I think. Can't wait to hear y'all's thoughts! Also, shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever for letting me bounce ideas off of her! You the real MVP!! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“I thought the bonfires happened the other night?” You asked Bob as the two of you made your way down the practically deserted streets. It was late, and the only people out were the young adults still looking to have a good time. The family friendly activities had ended hours ago, and now it was time for the partying to start.

“They were supposed to,” he said, eyes scanning the dimly lit street, “but they got postponed because of all the rain the other week. This was the only night that worked for most everyone around town.”

“That works out for us, I guess,” you hummed, hearing the sound of crashing waves grow closer as you neared the beach.

“Hey, thing one and thing two!”

The two of you turned around to see a grinning Bradley jogging up behind you, and you turned with a smile to greet him.

“Hey, Bradley!” You chirped. “We thought you’d already be down at the beach with everyone else.”

“I was, but I forgot my phone at the house,” he said, waving his phone in his hand. “So I ran back to grab it. Everyone else should already be down there, though.”

“We better get a move on before all the drinks are gone,” Bob mused, already moving once again. Bradley fell into step alongside you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Skipper,” he joked, casting a smirk down at you. “You been avoiding me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you giggled.

Bradley scoffed, giving you an offended look that was made less serious by the grin on his face. “Me? Avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous. Who in their right mind would avoid a sweet, little thing like you?”

“You must not really know her then,” Bob snorted. “She practically cut my hand off when I went for the last fry at lunch today.”

“That was entirely your fault,” you huffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “You know how much I love french fries.”

“Yeah, enough to cause grievous bodily injuries, apparently,” he smirked. You scowled at him before looking back at Bradley who was also smirking at you.

“He’s being dramatic,” you offered with a shrug.

“Barely.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you griped as the three of you walked down the stairs and onto the beach. You could see the glow from the various fires flicker in the night, groups of different people huddled around each one. “I have to set an alarm every morning to wake up before he does if I want any bacon.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bradley laughed, steering you towards a fire on the edge of the grouping, Bob in tow. “I grew up with him. I know how much bacon he puts away.”

“I am not that bad,” Bob huffed, earning identical dubious looks from both you and Bradley. You giggled when Bradley quirked his eyebrow at you.

“Sure you aren’t, Bob,” you laughed, earning a scowl from your best friend.

“You made it!”

The three of you turned to see Nat waving at you, the rest of the squad already settled in on the towels surrounding the small fire. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you made eye contact with a pair of mossy green ones. You looked away as your cheeks warmed, letting Bradley guide you across the fire and down on a group of towels, Bob on your other side.

“So,” said the brunette sitting next to Jake, blue eyes calculating as she took you in. She was just as beautiful as the last time you saw her. Tan skin glowed in the light from the fire, body lithe and athletic. She looked like she walked off the cover of a fashion magazine, and her narrowed gaze was trained on you, lips curled into waht appeared to be a permanent sneer. “You must be the tagalong I’ve heard so much about. Skipper was it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Bradley as he stiffened next to you, a glare fixed on his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” you said, offering an anxious smile as you looked back at her. “That’s what they call me anyway.”

“It’s cute,” she said, tone indicating that she most certainly did not find it cute. “I’m Mandy. You’ve probably heard of me from the others.”

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m not surprised,” she continued with a smirk. “I’ve known everyone here since we were in diapers. We go way back, you know. Don’t feel bad if you end up feeling left out in our conversations, okay?”

You shifted again, this time knocking your knee into your bag. The shells you carried with you jostled, clinking together, and you blushed when everyone looked at you.

“What was that?” Mickey asked, peering over to get a better look. You lifted your bag as you began to pull each shell out and placing it carefully on the towel.

“Oh, these are the shells and things I’ve been finding everywhere!” You smiled, running your fingers over the conch. “Aren’t they amazing? I’ve never seen so many beautiful shells in my life! And they’re all perfectly in tact, can you believe it? It’s like someone just plucked them up off the ocean floor and set them out for me to find!”

“That’s quite a collection,” Nat chuckled, shooting a smirk off to the side. You followed her line of sight, and your eyes made direct contact with the mossy green ones from earlier. Jake looked at you with an expression that could only be described as awe as he took you in, eyes peering down to where you cradled the conch gently in your hands before looking back up at you. His eyes shone in the firelight, a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. You felt another blush creep up your neck, and you leaned forward to place the conch closer to the fire for everyone to see. You heard a sharp intake of breath, and you looked up to see Mandy with a look of rage and shock on her face as she stared at you. You realized quickly she wasn’t staring at your face, but rather down at the base of your neck. Her eyes darted up to meet yours and her expression shifted quickly into one of cold contempt.

“You actually carry those around with you?” She sneered, scoffing out a laugh. “What are you? Five?”

You frowned up at her, suddenly feeling self conscious as you glanced around the group. Their smiles had shifted into looks of irritation as they glared at the brunette.

“Oh, I just-”

“I mean,” she sniffed, cutting you off, “I suppose it’s fitting for someone who looks like you though, right? You’re not exactly dressed to impress or anything.”

You looked down at your clothes, a frown on your face. You weren’t normally self conscious. Sure, you didn’t look like a model like Mandy, but you didn’t think you were hard on the eyes. You had dressed for comfort though, and it was plain to see in your jean shorts, tank top, and white button up. Mandy wore a pair of cutoffs and a tight fitting tank top that showed off her figure, and her makeup was immaculate. You hadn’t seen the point in putting any on. Should you have?

“Mandy,” Bob growled, glaring in a warning.

“Oh, I know she’s your friend and all, Bobby,” Mandy continued, a viscious smirk poised on her lips. “But let’s be honest. I mean, we’re among friends, right? And friends should be honest with each other. You’d be lucky if anyone gave you the time of day looking like that. Nevermind the silly, little shells you’re carrying around everywhere. You really should have left those back at the house, you know. And tell me you brought something nice to where for the ocean dance festival. Can you imagine if you wore some frumpy shorts to something like tha-”

“Shut up.”

All eyes turned to Jake who was glaring into the fire, eyes cold as the water that lapped the shore behind you. Mandy narrowed her eyes at him, rage clouding her features.

“Excuse me?” She spat, turning to face him. His gaze shifted to her, jaw clenching.

“Was I not clear enough?” He said evenly. “I said ‘shut up.’”

You hadn’t even realized that tears had gathered in your eyes until Bob laid a gentle hand on your shoudler causing you to jump. You looked over at him, sniffling as he gave you a concerned look. You wiped at the corner of your eyes, scrambling to your feet. You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding their gazes.

“I’m, uh,” you gulped, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I’m gonna go get something to drink.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bradley said, moving to his feet and giving you a gentle smile. “I’m parched.”

You turned to Bob with a watery smile. “You want anything?”

He studied you for a second, eyes uncertain. You gave him a look that you hoped communicated your need to pretend like you were okay, and he pressed his lips together.

“Just a beer.”

“You got it!” You smiled, trying and failing to add your usual cheeriness to the statement. You gave a half smile that you were sure came off as more of a grimace as you made your way towards the line of coolers on the other side of the fires. Bradley followed you silently, and you kept your head down, feeling the tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You knew you were being silly. They were just words after all, and you were a grown woman. You shouldn’t be letting silly words get to you like this. But why did they hurt so bad? You knelt by one of the coolers, fishing out two beers and a coke. You handed one of the beers to Bradley, refusing to make eye contact with him as you pushed the lid to the cooler closed.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing onto your arm gently, pulling you so that you faced him.

You kept your head down, and Bradley let out a sigh.

“Listen,” he started, hesitating as if he were choosing his next words carefully. “You shouldn’t listen to Mandy, okay? She’s a stone cold bitch on the best of days, and, well, she’s never been told ‘no’ a day in her life. She’s always gotten what she wanted, when she wanted it.”

“What’s your point?” You muttered, glancing off to the side as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Bradley let out another sigh, taking his hand from your arm to run it through his hair.

“My point is that she’s taking her new experience with the word out on you, and it’s not fair. I know it’s hard, but just ignore her, okay? She’s just jealous.”

“Of me?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze. Bradley smirked down at you, casting you a wink.

“You’re pretty great, Skipper,” he hummed. “Anyone with eyes can see it. Now, come on. Let’s head back to the others, yeah?”

You nodded, and the two of you made your way back to the fire. As you approached, you noted that Jake was the only one still there, eyes trained on the flames in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. He jumped when Bradley plopped down next to him, leaving just enough room for you to slide in between them.

“Where’d the others go?” Bradley asked, twisting the top off his beer and taking a swig from the bottle. Jake grimaced, gesturing around towards the other fires.

“Take your pick.”

Bradley hummed, leaning back on the towel with his legs outstretched towards the fire. The three of you were silent for a moment, and you felt a tingling sensation on your left side. You turned to find Jake already looking at you, eyes soft as they took you in. Your breath caught in your throat, cheeks flushing. You thought you should have been been creeped out with how intensely he was staring at you, but you felt oddly comfortable under his gaze. In fact, you found yourelf sitting up a little straighter, almost preening under his gaze, and a small smile tugged on Jake’s lips as he took you in, eyes blazing as they reached your neck.

You jumped as Bradley suddenly leaned over in front of you, breaking the spell you found yourself under. A shit eating grin was etched onto his face as he looked at Jake.

“Did you know Skipper here always wanted to be a mermaid?”

You felt yourself begin to splutter as your cheeks warmed for a different reason, eyes growing wide as you peered between the two men. Bradley waggled his eyebrows as Jake’s own shot up on his forehead. A smirk graced his lips, giving him a devilish look to his already handsome features. He looked at you, smirk intensifying as he saw your flustered state. He leaned forward, smirk growing into a grin as you glanced away.

“Is that so?” He hummed, warm breath ghosting over your face.

“I will remind you that I was, like, five at the time,” you snapped, glaring at Bradley. He only chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked lazily up at you.

“I think you’d make a cute mermaid, don’t you agree, Jake?”

Jake nodded with another hum, eyes taking on a look you couldn’t place, but it made you squirm nonetheless.

“Just imagine her swimming around with all her little fishy sidekicks,” Bradley teased, eyes alight with mischief. You scoffed, turning to face him.

“As if,” you snarked, “my sidekick wouldn’t be a fish, it would be a stingray.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Why a stingray?”

“Oh,” you blushed, your nerves kicking up again. “Because they’re my favorite.”

Jake nodded slowly, like he was trying to commit that fact to memory. Bradley snorted beside you, and the two of you looked over at where he was smirking, eyes peeking at Jake before looking back at you.

“How could I forget?” He drawled, taking another sip of his beer. “I met Rusty when you and I were snuggled in bed the other morning.”

“That’s not-”

You were cut off by a growl to your left. You turned to see Jake’s entire expression had changed. His jaw was clenched, eyes trained on Bradley as if he wanted to take his head off. His fists were clenched so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drawing blood from where his fingernails dug into his palms. He was almost too still as he glared at Bradley, the other man looking smug as he took in his friend’s appearance.

“Are you okay?” You asked the blond, and his eyes glanced over at you, gaze seeming to soften as he took in your concern.

“Bradshaw!” Reuben called from across the way. “Get your ass over here!”

Bradley heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered.

You watched as he strutted over to where Reuben and Mickey were gathered with a group of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone with Jake.

“He’s such an ass sometimes,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” You asked him with a giggle. Jake’s demeanor seemed to relax at the sound.

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled, casting another glare over at where Bradley stood chatting and laughing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You frowned, noticing how tense he still seemed to be. He looked back at you, hesitating before letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just feeling a little overheated or something,” he muttered, flexing his hands as he uncurled his fists. He moved to stand, and you followed suit.

“Think I’m going to go take a walk to cool off,” he mused, rolling his shoulders back. You frowned, rubbing a hand over your arm.

“Oh, okay,” you said, glancing at the ground, shifting your feet in the sand that covered the towel. Jake seemed to hesitate once more, chewing his bottom lip.

“Do you want to join me?” He asked you, his green eyes hopeful as you met his gaze. You felt a smile tug on your lips as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, moving to grab your bag. You stopped when you noticed it was placed neatly on top of the towel you had been sitting on previously, shells already back inside.

“I, uh,” Jake stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want anything to happen to them, so I put them back in your bag. I guess I should have asked first instead of just moving them. I’m sorry if I-”

“No,” you smiled, “it’s okay. Thank you.”

Jake gave you a nervous, tight lipped smile before nodding. “You can leave your bag here if you want. No one is going to take it.”

You returned his nod, gesturing for him to lead the way down the beach.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the ocean waves crashing off to your right, and the cool, night breeze ruffling your hair.

“Listen,” Jake started, stopping to turn to you, eyes earnest as they took you in. “I’m sorry about Mandy-”

“Oh, no, Jake,” you frowned, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for her.”

“No, but I do,” he stated firmly, face serious as he looked at you. “It’s my fault she’s taking it out on you. She’s been so convinced that she and I are going to end up together, and now that she knows that’s not the case, she’s on the warpath.”

“Jake,” you sighed, “I understand feeling some kind of weird responsibility for her, but her actions are her own. You shouldn’t have to apologize on her behalf. She’s a big girl just like I am, right? We’re adults who are capable of making our own decisions and apologizing for the wrong we do. None of this is your fault.”

He didn’t look convinced, and you took his hand in yours to offer him some kind of reassurance. A bolt of electricity ran through you, causing you to let out a gasp, and a warmth rushed over you, causing you to squirm. You felt like a magnet, drawn to Jake in a way that you couldn’t even begin to understand. You wanted to feel more of him, to consume and be consumed by him. You had never felt anything like it in your life, and you looked up at him hazy eyes to find that he wasn’t any better off.

His own eyes had a haze to them, seeming to glow in the moonlight. His breathing came out labored, almost like he was fighting to maintain his composure. His eyes raked over you, a hand coming up to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzled into it without thinking.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer to you.

“You’re just saying that,” you muttered, leaning into him.

“No,” he stated firmly, causing you to jump just a hair. His other hand came up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer so that you were practically molded against him.

“No,” he said again, gentler this time. “I mean it. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

If it were possible, you were sure your skin would have heated up even more than it already was. As it stood, a pleasant warmth spread through you at his proximity, and the hand that was cradling your cheek slowly drifted down until it brushed the mark on your neck. You let out a wanton cry at the shock of pleasure that jolted through you at the simple touch, and Jake smirked down at you, stroking softly over the mark again and again as he drew more pleasured cries from you.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, leaning his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose against the tip of yours. “I’ve got you.”

You couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed at the intense amount of pleasure you felt at the simplest of touches, too focused on the way his hands felt on you. You raised your own, one hand cradling his cheek as the other ran through his golden hair. He let out a groan as you tugged gently on the soft strands, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that spread across your face. Jake’s eyes met yours, the green of them so intense that it took your breath away. He glanced down at your lips, slowly leaning in-

“Jacob Seresin!”

You gasped, grasping at your ears at the almost inhuman shriek that pierced the night air. Jake pulled back, placing you almost protectively behind him. You peered around him to see Mandy glaring at him, blue eyes practically glowing with rage. Her gaze turned to you, and you shrank back slightly, hiding behind Jake a little more. This only served to make Mandy even more irate, and she snarled as she stomped closer to the two of you.

Jake bristled, standing taller as he continued to block you from Mandy’s warpath.

“How dare you,” she spat at him, lips pulled back into a sneer. “You’re mine.”

“No,” Jake growled, “I’m not.”

You shifted behind him, moving out from behind him slowly, and the pair turned to look at you. You gave them a sheepish smile, as you inched around Mandy, hands up in a form of surrender.

“I’m just going to head back so you two can talk in private,” you murmured. Jake looked like he wanted to argue, but Mandy’s glare had you moving before he could say anything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked back towards the bonfires, already missing Jake’s touch. You had never felt anything so intense in your entire life, and you wondered what had come over you to make you act so brazenly. You weren’t one for hookups, but you weren’t even sure that’s what that was going to be. He had held you so gently, like you might break or run away at any moment. You had been so ready to give him every part of you in that moment. You knew you should have been worried at that thought, but a large part of you thought that it felt right, that you should give yourself to him. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself wanting to turn around and go back to him.

You were about halfway back down the beach when it started. It was quiet at first, distant. But then it grew louder, and you found yourself slowing to a stop, turning towards the crashing waves to your left.

The song was beautiful, melancholic. It was unlike the one you had heard before, this one sounding more animal like than human, but you still found yourself drawn to it. It called to you, begging you to listen, and you did, feeling the sound drift through your mind and pulling you in. You weren’t sure when you started walking, but you felt the sand shift beneath your feet as you slowly made your way towards the water. The fires faded from your sight, the churning waves beckoning to you like gentle hands that promised refuge. The song grew louder, all consuming, blocking everything else out but the need to answer. You felt the wind whip your hair around you, the cold sting kissing your cheeks as the crashing waves grew louder, the song more desperate. The sand beneath your feet grew cold as you ventured into a spot where the water met the shoreline. You’re almost there, the song called to you. You felt a relieved smile tug on your lips at the thought of finally reaching your goal and answering the song. You felt the water come just up to your toes before retreating back. You closed your eyes in anticipation. Just one more step.

You let out a cry as you were yanked away from the water, a strong hand on your upper arm. Your arms reached for the water, your mind still foggy as a loud, keening cry sounded from the water before disappearing entirely. You whirled around to see Javy staring at you with an intense worry, Nat just behind him, worry clear on her face.

“Wha-” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head as it began to pound. “What happened? Javy?”

“Hey, Skipper,” he murmured gently, pulling you closer, away from the water. “We’ve been calling you for a while now. You okay?”

“I…” you trailed off, glancing between him and the water. “I’m not sure.”

“How about we get you some water, yeah?” Nat suggested, wrapping her arms around you as she led you back to the bonfires. You nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing back at the ocean. “Yeah, okay.”

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