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little-diable · 3 days

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Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)

This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.

It could be easy, too easy almost.

“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.

Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.

Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste.

Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her.

“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine.

“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”

……

Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him.

And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.

“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement.

Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now.

“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again.

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment.

……

The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.

“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much.

Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top.

How in God's name was she supposed to survive this?

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss.

“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.

“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.”

Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.

……

(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync.

“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.

Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing.

For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.

But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.

“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.

“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils.

……

“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”

Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”

(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her.

The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close.

Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs.

“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body.

He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.

(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”

“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin.

Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.

Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings.

“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.

Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him.

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.

#Tyler Owens smut #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens imagine #twisters

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00kittenz · 1 day

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── piece of cake ! ( lhs ) 🍰

๑ You and Heeseung attempt to bake together as a fun, cutesy bonding moment— but things don’t end up going quite exactly as planned…

pair: bf!heeseung ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: fluff, smut, my very weird and bad sense of humor lol, #epic fails, hee is sooo babygirl in this, praise, lots of kissing, mwah mwah, soft dom!heeseung, fingering, piv, breeding kink, grrrrreer lovey dovey relationship :3 | words: 2.0k

this was supposed to be short n sweet but it got a bit longer than intended oop- i think this might be the cutest thing i wrote yet ahhh

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“ten..nine..eight..seven.. six,” you slowly count the minutes passing by from pure boredom, eyes squinting at the pink clock that sat on the milky colored walls of your kitchen.

you tapped your acrylics on the marble of your countertop, double checking all the ingredients you had set out for tonight’s adventure. you and your boyfriend, heeseung, decided to have a baking date tonight. it marked your one year anniversary yesterday, but even so, heeseung still wanted to celebrate for the entirety of the week. so today is essentially part two of your anniversary !

“comingg !” you sang, hearing sudden knocks from the front door, knowing that it was none other than your boyfriend. he’s the only one who knocks on your door like he’s making a beat. soon as you open the door you’re met with the most handsome face and the brightest smile, and although you were delighted to see him you couldn’t help but state the obvious.

“why’d you show up so late ??”

“blame jake and jungwon for that, just as i was about to leave they kept yapping my ears off about any and everything !” he attempts to defend himself, wiping the iffy look on your face with a sweet kiss.

“hmm.. really, you’re blaming other people now ? sounds more like an excuse to me,” you playfully combat, giggling against his broad chest once he caged you in his arms.

“psshhh, what excuse— you know how they are !”

“i’m just teasing babe,” you left his hold with a lingering smile, “i’ll forgive you this one time, but only because i missed you.” with that you walked over to the counter of all your supplies, pulling him along with you.

“well damn, you weren’t playing around. you’re super prepared baby.” heeseung rubbed the sides of your hips as he came up behind you, eyes glazing over the ingredients you had laid out all prettily, it seems you doubled up on everything in case you made any mistakes.

“mhm, i might’ve overdid it just a little bit.. but you can never have more than one thing !” you try to justify your overconsumption, you tend to go overboard when it comes to certain things.

while you were out food shopping, there were far too many different varieties of decorations, you can never decide on anything so you just went and bought a whole basket full. but you’re slightly regretting that choice now considering all the money you just spent…

“c’monnn, let’s just hurry !” you stop rambling and get back to business, feeling his kisses lace the crown of your head once you turn to face him. “i wanna make ittt.”

“make what ? our kids ?” “i’m ready whe—” he pauses once his eyes found yours, blankly looking at him. he knew that look was everything but blank. “okok sorry, let’s start..” he awkwardly brushes the conversation to the side, picking up a box of cake mix.

“i’m assuming we’re gonna make the cake on this box ?”

“yup ! a strawberry, triple layer cake.” you say excitedly, peeking at the box he was holding.

“i can’t wait anymore, i’m hungry, let’s gooo !” you express like a hyperactive child, unable to contain your excitement for the delicious dessert.

it was a great idea to actually wear aprons for this event. you initially had the idea set and stone because you wanted to look like a professional baker like on the tv shows. you had to fully commit to the bit, go big or go home ! but, you definitely needed it for more than just the look of it. you two made a mess.

“look, there’s frosting in your hair !” you laughed hysterically at your lover. god knows how the icing even got in his hair in the first place.. “you aren’t even the one frosting the cake, how the hell did it get there ?!” you hinted at the fact that the needy boy was holding you almost the entire time as you started frosting the first layer of the cake.

“i dunno, it’s your fault then, you’re the one doing it !” he spoke against your neck. shivering goosebumps danced across your skin at the feel.

“maybe if you weren’t breathing on my neck 24/7 then you would be the one icing !” you sassily retorted at his laziness, handing him a crate of strawberries. “here, cut these into slices.”

you could hear him groaning at the task you just gave him. “but baby, i wanna hold you still.. can we wait a little ?”

“hee, no, you’ve been holding me since you got here !” your hands lazed on your hips. “get to work, chop, chop !”

“ugh, okay..” he pouts, looking over at you with those precious bambi eyes that was almost about to make you fold in a second. he retrieved a small fruit from it’s catering before taking a knife to it's redness. “babbeeeeee...” he whined.

“no, heeseung.”

“fine, then can you at least hold me this time ?” he pleaded with you, his smile coming into spotlight once he felt your arms wrap around his fit shape. “thank you.” he mumbled continuing on his mission with the strawberries.

๑ ๑ ๑

“sooo, what do i do now ?” he asks, caressing your arms looking back at your watching figure.

“you place them NEATLY on the frosting.” you answered him, placing a kiss on his clothed back, praising him of his quick hands. “you’re doing a good job so far baby.”

“okie dokie.” a small smile hid the big grin that heeseung tried to contain at your praising words.

“good ! now take the frosting—” you left his figure, reaching for the tube of frosting and placing it in his hand. “and gently spread it across the strawberries.”

“go on, do it.” your brows knit together in confusion. why was he just standing there not doing anything ??

“uhh, are you gonna hold me ?” he cocks his head to side, giving you yet another look that you just can’t refuse.

“okay ! damn, so needy.” you shook your head, going back to the warmth of your insatiable boyfriend.

it’s been a while since your little strawberry arranging, now you’re just finishing off the cake with some decorations. considering how long it took you both, the cake ended up looking absolutely phenomenal, you could just picture the strawberries layered with the frosting in your head. you couldn’t wait to get it inside your tummy.

“okay, now add the strawberry on top !” you proudly announce after applying your colorful sprinkles around the rim on the cake.

heeseung, just as happy as you are bounces in place before placing the fruit gently on the glob of icing that sat in the middle of the delicious treat.

“FINALLY,” he shouted, he was ready to just eat it whole. “it’s so pretty !” the two of you share a high five. taking long looks at the cake in awe. mouths drooling for a bite but eyes savoring the look of the treat before the two of you ruin it. you made sure to snap a couple pictures of it to post on your story later.

“hmm.. should we eat it now or wait a bit ?” you ask with hesitance, although you were very much looking forward to devouring it, you still couldn’t bring yourself to actually cut it just yet.

“it looks really tasty, but.. i think i wanna eat something else.” he shamelessly admits, hoping that you’d catch his drift. and, you most certainly did…

๑ ๑ ๑

“hmph,—” your grasp on his wrist tightened at the pressure he was building between your legs. the way his fingers pumped through your folds, how his thumb gave attention to your pulsing clit. your mouth went permanently agape, losing yourself in the blissful feeling of his touch. “hee— yes ! fuck..”

heeseung watched as your teeth captured your bottom lip, the blood rushing around the bruised flesh.

he then captured each of your thighs, on his shoulder, both masses prettily caked on eachother squeezing your cunt between them; his fingers still stretching you out.

“you’re so fucking perfect baby,” he pampered your plushy thighs, kissing them all giddy-like, a mischievous grin on his face. “but you already know that, right ?”

you rapidly nodded, you didn’t wanna speak nor protest, it was like you didn’t know how to breath anymore, you felt so high and small under him, he was like a drug. and it left you with nothing but chilling goosebumps.

“go on, come,” “come so i can give you what you really want.” his pace quickened leaving you entirely unstable, you were shaking, whimpering, your dewy cunt was throbbing around him. “you want it don’t you?”

“yes..—” your voice was hoarse and forced, you’ve become a groaning, dripping mess for him and he adored every bit of it.

heeseung softly bit around your skin, leaving small reddish and purple love bites around your legs.

“oh! baby, i’m—” your orgasm cut you off, heeseung loved whenever you climaxed because of him. how lazy and defeated you look after, the way you gasp and cling for air. “coming..”

“dont worry, i know.” he joked, grabbing your waist, pulling you back up onto your ass. “well kitchen sex is now off the bucket list..” he licked the sides of his fingers, eyeing you directly.

you were mesmerized by him, he had you right where he wanted you. “but i’m not done yet, fortunately enough for you. baby girl.”

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, you’re fucking swallowing me.” heeseung groaned, pulling at the waistband of your skirt in a tight manner. “pussy still hungry for me ?”

“please..” you whined at the friction of his manhood colliding with yours. like a match made in heaven. “i want it..”

he wasted no time in fastening himself further inside you, he wanted you no more than you wanted him. he needed you the most right now. not only has he been craving to be with you all day, but this whole week meant everything to him. heeseung feels more than lucky to have you, he wants to cherish this anniversary as if it’s a once in lifetime experience.

his large hand pressed on your lower back with every stroke he landed in you. you felt every curve and inch of his length, how it made you see stars the minute his tip kissed your G. “fuck..” he landed a sharp slap onto your ass.

you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. there was a tense burning sensation sprawling throughout your entire body. it only made you urge for more, like nothing was enough, even though you were in utter utopia. you were a mewling, shrieking mess.

“heeseung ! ugh, please ruin me..hmm please..” your arm reached back grasping at his thighs.

“you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know ?” he airly chuckled, throwing he head back. the feel of your slick creating sticky vines across his skin whenever he’d pull out. the sound of it, the look of it. all of it turning him on even more.

your back arched at the thought of maxing out around his thick shaft. the praise you’ll get since you’ve done so well for him.

“i love you..” you mumbled bittersweet nothings one after another.

“shit, loosen the fuck up.” his hands entangled your sweaty hair, gripping it in a careful but semi aggressive manner. “oh fuck- i’m gonna come.” he began to thrust into your messy cunt relentlessly, pounding you into oblivion.

“hee— mm’nside please.. !” you slurred, drool heaping out the corner of your mouth.

“inside ? huh? you want my babies, princess?” “you do, don't you? want me to fill your fucking pussy with my seed.” heeseung chuckled at your pleading and begging for his cum. he was tired and worn out as hell, but soo turned on by you, by the thought of you bearing his children.

“ngh~ yes, yes hee!”

“happy anniversary, baby.” his length pumped into you filling you up, not an empty fucking crevice in your soppy cunt. like the frosting to a cake.

“mm, thank you .. baby.. ”

forget all that romeo and juliet cliché love shit, you two were better than that, at least you thought so. you two were...

y/n and heeseung ??

that had a ring to it.. most definitely.

ヾ(・ᆺ・✿)ﾉﾞ

guys why do i feel like my smut has been worse HELP- idk, could just be me overthinking again butttt i hope some of you liked it hehehe ;D <3

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines

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dalishious · 2 days

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Zevran Arainai is an Underrated Delight

There is so much depth to Zevran Arainai’s writing that is often overlooked in favour of either sexually objectifying him or ignoring him altogether… which is kind of ironic, considering that’s how so many people in his life have treated him within universe. And then, of course, there’s the biphobia directed at his character back when Dragon Age: Origins first released. He was a joke in many Gamer Bro circles about how they killed him for flirting with their male protagonist. It’s such a shame, really. Because personally speaking, Zevran is one of my favourite characters in the entire Dragon Age franchise.

Zevran’s introduction to the game immediately sets him apart from every other character who is capable of joining the party. He first appears as an enemy; an assassin hired to kill the Warden by Loghain, the Warden’s political opponent. You immediately have the option to either kill him, or add him to the party roster. Zevran does not initially join the Warden’s cause out of the goodness of his heart; he does it because he knows that the Antivan Crows who essentially own him – which we’ll get to – will kill him for failing to assassinate your character. This really paints his original placement within the group’s dynamics in an interesting light. No one really trusts him; Alistair and Morrigan both outright voice this. Zevran himself believes he is only safe with the Warden so long as he makes himself useful, per how he sells his worthiness to the Warden when trying to convince them to let him join. There’s tension there that really makes getting to know him extra interesting, because before anything else, you need to build trust. So, when he’s finally ready to start revealing parts about his personal history, you the player really get to feel like you’ve earned something special from his character.

Zevran’s mother was Dalish, but fell in love with an elf from the city and left her clan behind. Unfortunately, Zevran’s father was assassinated, leaving her with nothing but his debts to pay. She turned to sex work, until she died giving birth to Zevran, and all that debt fell onto him in turn. Zevran was raised by the sex workers in the brothel his mother worked at, until the age of seven, when the Antivan Crow Guildmaster Talav Arainai bought him for seven sovereigns; one of eighteen children made into “compradi” (recruits) that year. In his training, Zevran was tortured in a variety of ways, and in his own words, “taught to know nothing else but murder”. Of those eighteen, Zevran was one of two who survived the training, the other being a human boy named Taliesen. Then, a woman named Rinnala (“Rinna”) was placed into House Arainai from the Azul Contract that dictated the Crows were to take in unwanted bastard children of the Antivan Crown. For a time being, Zevran, Taliesen, and Rinnala worked well together as a professional and romantic trio. But when Zevran and Taliesen were tricked into believing Rinnala betrayed the Crows in an internal Crow scheme, they killed her. When they learned otherwise, Zevran took it particularly rough, combined with the realization of how little he himself mattered, too.

The trauma that Zevran has experienced is something he often makes jokes about, or speaks detached from. I’ve been called out many times on doing the same thing with my own trauma, and I know it’s a pretty commonplace response in others as well. That makes it feel all the more real; his responses are so authentically relatable. It’s also in a way, I find a little therapeutic to get to comfort a character whose survival mechanism has been to downplay his trauma for so long. The Warden is able to tell Zevran that what he’s been through sounds horrible, and even though Zevran tries to excuse things as not being that bad, you gain significant approval from him, just for showing him sympathy. Sympathy is something he’s severely lacked in his life. For all Zevran jokes about his traumatizing experiences, they clearly left a mark on him. Zevran eventually admits to the Warden that he did not actually anticipate being able to kill them, and that what he really wanted in taking on the job was to die. Again, sorry to get personal here for a moment, but I too have attempted suicide, and honestly I still struggle with ideation sometimes. And yet again I must say that I find something really beautiful in a character like Zevran, who is able to find peace and happiness on the other side of surviving such a thing.

As for Zevran’s romance… oh, Zevran’s romance path is such a delight. He is so multidimensional in that he’s very flirtatious and fun, while also showing genuine vulnerability in time. He admits that his role as a Crow meant he was encouraged to use seduction as a tool. His only experience with a true relationship ended very poorly, with Rinna’s death and a wedge forming between him and Taliesen, who he is eventually forced to kill too in the game. One of my favourite moments in the entire game, is when you invite him to your tent and he says no… and if you accept his consensual rights, that is what changes everything for him and the Warden’s relationship. Zevran feels safe and loved, and he gets to be happy. As of Dragon Age: Inquisition, a romanced Zevran is still at the Warden’s side, too, if they’re alive.

I love Zevran Arainai so much. He truly is an amazingly well done character, and deserves so much more respect and interest than he gets.

*Sourced from in-game dialogue and World of Thedas vol. 2

#hand slipped and i wrote 1k about loving zevran sorry #zevran arainai #dragon age #dao #meta #suicide tw

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mydarlingclaudia · 3 days

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I will love you ‘til the end of time

note : divider is from @/toastray. I have nothing to say this was supposed to be a couple hundred words but yk.

wc : 2.7k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy

desc : he’s been in love with the memory of you for too long, falling back in love with the newer you took a matter of seconds. fluff, bit of angst (?), au, re4rLeon, fem!reader, not proofread, I talk a tiny bit about sex at the end but there’s no smut.

Leon doesn’t remember the sound of your voice, it’s been too long, too many years have passed since the day you died.

Six years was all the time the two of you had together. Six good years. All a really, really long time ago. Leon hates it, he knows he’s forgetting, memories are serving less and less of a purpose to him everyday. How is he to remember lying under the trees with you when those trees have been cut down and turned to homes and firewood? How can he remember you gutting fish for the two of you to eat when the fish have left the river you lived by?

The home you originally lived in had been torn down and rebuilt dozens of times by now, Leon wasn’t always there, even when he was, it wasn’t very lived in after you died. He’s been around the world more times than he can remember, before you, with you, after you. No place looks the same. Leon has many homes, stays there for a few decades, packs up, and moves to the next house in the next country.

He had been gifted with everlasting life for being some hero, for fighting monster when those were still a thing, it was well after he had married you, he didn’t tell you, but he thought you’d spend forever together. Didn’t happen, obviously. You got sick, he took care of you, nothing helped.

Leon prayed to whatever God that had bestowed his immortality to him to give it to you too, to keep you alive, to make you healthy again. He received no answer and you died not long after, Leon was left to spend the rest of his eternal life alone, but the world was his, and he has all the time that the universe has to offer. But what had he done to not be granted the one thing he wanted in the world? Why would some God reward him just to let him live the rest of his life miserable?

Leon’s seen everyone fall in love, but love evolved from courting to dating apps, he’s seen an embarrassing amount of shitty first dates. But he’s also seen a lot of good ones, ones where the first date turns to a second one, then a third, then a fourth, then before he knows it, those twenty-something-year-olds he had seen fall in love in a small restaurant were now taking their teenagers to the mall and going to high school reunions.

You would have loved this, or he hopes you would’ve. Because he really wishes that you were there to cuddle up to him on the couch and watch tv with him until midnight, he wanted to take you on cute dates, he wants to buy you things and renew your vows once every few years.

He wishes that the memories are clearer in his head, he can really only see them when he closes his eyes, or when the weather is a certain way, or when a certain smell hits his nose. Leon wants to feel your skin against his again. he wants to hear you talking directly into his ear and see that smirk on your face when you suggest something you know he won't refuse.

But it's been so long and he knows that your body has long since decomposed and your grave has been swallowed up by the ocean, a good half of the time since then he's been living on auto-pilot, the other half he's painfully aware of your absence with each day that passes.

He's not even sure he'd be able to hold you correctly, should you fall back into his arms one day. Would you still love him despite that?

He's gone so long without a lover, would he remember how to kiss? The Hollywood movies don't do it justice, kissing. But no one in those movies kissed like you had, Leon's seen all kinds of romance movies, read all kinds of books, he's always imagined you and him as the main characters, but you never kiss him the way you used to.

Would you even choose him? There were so many different men out there and so many new ways to meet someone and stay connected, there was no rush to get married or have kids, would Leon be the man you'd pick once again? He hopes so.

He doesn't remember Beowulf having a wife, and Beowulf had been great. He knows that many heroes aren't able to keep their wife and their glory at the same time, the decision is often made for them, and they go on fighting until they die. But Leon stopped fighting with the same determination when you passed, he still did it, people needed protecting, but if he wasn't there to protect you, then was there really anything to fight for?

Despite all of this, he's still here. Leon looks the same as he did all those years ago, some things have changed, a lot, really, but not just about him. The world around him has grown, he's watched generations come and go just to get to some shitty grocery store in Raccoon City twenty minutes before they close at eight.

Leon doesn't like to have to work all the time, he thinks it's crazy how he went from hero to cop, more money was needed to live now than he ever imagined would be possible. He has money saved up from years and years of work, but he can't keep using the "generational wealth" excuse when he's got no family.

He doesn't like being bugged much, either. Maybe that's why he's buying his dinner when he's already supposed to be in bed, could be why he works so much even though he can't stand it sometimes, too.

Leon should have grabbed a shopping cart, the basket he carries is overflowing with shit he doesn't even need, when has he ever even eaten Devil Dogs and Zebra Cakes? He really needs to eat more than just pasta and steak every other night, maybe stop getting deliveries from the pizza place, too. He's looking over the ingredients on the back of a cereal box he knows he's going to get no matter what when there's a soft tap on his shoulder, he sighs and stops, turning around and preparing to be asked a question a cashier would know the answer to rather than him.

But Leon freezes the second his eyes land on your face. He must've gone crazy, it can't be you, can it? You're not really standing in front of him with a basket in your arms, wearing a winter jacket over your sweatshirt and smiling at him as if you're some stranger to him.

"Where did you get those?" Your voice is quiet when you speak, his gaze doesn't even follow your hand when you point at the sweets in his basket, he just stands there and admires you for a few seconds.

Leon wants to cry, he wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, tell you to run away with him, find someway for you to become immortal and stay by his side until the world ends. But he doesn’t, you look at him like he’s a stranger.

"Oh- Th-the uhm, the Zebra Cakes?" Leon finally asks after a few seconds, you only nod. "The e-end of aisle six." Why is he stammering? He's thought about all the things he'd say to you for hundreds of years, and he's instantly throwing every single word out the window the second you come out from whatever corner of the world you've been hiding in.

"Alright, thanks." God, it really is you. Your smile's the same, you look the same, you smell the same, you sound the same, you just- it's you. He remembers the way you sound again, God, please don’t ever take your voice away from him. He stops himself from reaching for your wrist when you walk away, knowing that you don't remember the things he does and that it'll only make you feel weird about him. But he'll settle for knowing that you're alive and that you're in the city, and that hopefully this won't be the last time he sees you.

—

The next time Leon sees you is on the subway a few weeks later in December.

You're not really looking when you step into the train, reaching up too high for the pole to hang onto and instead grab onto his hand. Your hands are so cold, you really need to wear gloves. But you gasp and pull your hand away when you feel his warm hand touch your skin, instantly holding lower down on the cold pole and looking at him.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" It's cute how quickly you apologize, it brings a smile to his face.

"No- No, you’re fine." He wants so badly to wrap his hand around yours, to hold you close and keep you warm, but he couldn’t, he was still a stranger to you. Being in a crowded train and standing a few inches apart was enough for now.

Leon just watches you, you don’t notice because you’re too busy staring down at your shoes, but his eyes are tracing over the curve of your nose, the way your eyelashes look when you blink, how kissable your lips look. He missed this view, although he'd much rather have you looking back at him with the same adoration in your eyes.

Neither of you speak again for the rest of the ride, you can feel him staring at you, though, you don’t entirely mind, you’d probably looking at him if his eyes weren’t burning holes through your skull.

You haven’t left his mind since he saw you at the grocery store, he’s been trying to figure out ways to find you again without getting put on some kind of radar, he’s too impatient to let things happen naturally, but it’s really the only choice he has.

He knows you recognize him, he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting some kind of vision from the past of him kissing you, of you resting on top of him in the sunlight, of him looking at you with awe in his eyes as you laugh at a story he told you.

But he can’t think about that for long, the train comes to a stop and you leave again, looking back over your shoulder at him and giving him a small goodbye smile. Where have you been all these years?

—

Sometimes, shitty dates were a good thing.

Both parties normally end up having a bad rest of their night, but if some man-child asshole you had been put on a date with hadn’t just thrown a whole tantrum and stomped out of the bar, you wouldn’t be sitting next to Leon.

He didn’t know you’d be here tonight, he was just here because he wanted to grab a drink after work, but this was better.

It’s awkward, he really, really doesn’t hope you think he’s stalking you. How small could a city be? Is it really so odd that the man you said a few words to at a grocery store and bumped into on the train would be sitting next to you at a bar?

Leon’s always had a staring problem when it came to you, he’s sure you’re too pretty for him, not that you were really his anymore. And Christ, you’re still beautiful, maybe even more so now. Modern clothes look good on you, he likes your dress, your shoes, the way you did your hair, the color you painted your nails.

He has to stop staring, because now you’re looking back at him. Leon expects for you to yell at him, or slap him, or something, but you just smile at him and turn towards him a tiny bit more.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare, zoned out.” Leon apologizes once his eyes snap up to yours, you had moved from your table up to the bar a few minutes ago, most likely embarrassed. You brought your drink over, too, though you didn’t really pay attention to it, just circling the lip of the cup with your fingers and taking a few sips every few seconds.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Your smile only grows, Leon has to bite back a grin threatening to stretch across his lips. Once again, he’s not sure what to say. Does he ever really know what to say now, though? You take the words right out of his mouth and turn them into broken mumbles that he tries to cover up with a fake cough or forced chuckle.

That didn’t use to happen, he’d still get nervous around you, but seeing you now made him feel like he was falling in love again.

“I’d feel like I’ve seen you before…?” You say, you know you’re right, you just want him to talk to you because you haven’t been able to get him out of your head, for some reason.

“Oh, uhm, yeah- Yeah, I think I’ve seen you around, too.” Is he seriously fucking blushing right now?

“Hm, small world.” You take a sip from your drink, he does the same.

“So, uh, bad date?” Leon asks before he can stop himself, he knows the answer, but you were probably going to get mad at him, get offended and ignore him if he sees you again.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “It’s fine, though. Blind date.” Leon nodded, staring down at the ring of water his glass left on the countertop. “You just here for a drink?”

“Mhm,” Alcohol was like water to him now, not the way that he drinks it everyday, but that it hardly has an effect on him anymore. But he can’t sit here and drink glass after glass unless if he wants people to get concerned, so he just sips on one or two for an hour and leaves. You’re drinking the same drink as him, though, so he decides to stay for longer than usual.

And to his amazement, you stay, too. You laugh and nod at the stories he tells you, he listens intently to the ones you tell in return. Of course you’ve been living a different life than the one he had with you, but this is already getting better than the last. And you seem… into him? More into him than you were with your actual date, he’s not complaining.

By the time you and Leon go your separate ways, it’s pitch black outside, well, not really, it’s never completely dark in a city. The lights of driving cars and buildings illuminate you beautifully, like you’re something holy.

Leon finds a napkin with a phone number scribbled on it in his jacket pocket, it must’ve been yours, he couldn’t be happier.

—

Whatever higher being blessed him with another chance with you, he’d praise for the rest of eternal life. Because after a few hour-long phone calls and a couple more coincidental meetings, he’s taking you out on dates and you’re holding onto his arm and kissing his cheek.

It’s better than he remembers, the city offers more things for the two of you to do, and he’s up for anything you suggest.

Leon is finally able to feel your skin underneath his fingertips, feel your lips against his, listen to your voice in his ear, buy you nice things, have you cuddle up with him on the couch, he has you back.

You look so peaceful when you sleep, your head resting on his bicep, his naked skin pressed against yours. It’s been a year, you both still look the same, but he knows you’re changing. Leon hadn’t had sex in so long that he was sure that he would’ve fucked it up, you had taken charge, and it had been soft and slow, anyway. Nothing for him to worry about.

He’s been awake for an hour, just looking at you, trying to imprint this memory into his mind in case you were to disappear soon. But you finally start to stir, blinking your eyes a few times as you start to wake up.

“Leon…?” You mumble, he pulls you closer.

“Go back to sleep,” A kiss to your eyebrow, then the bridge of your nose, your lips twitch up into a sleepy smile.

“Mm… ‘kay. Love you.” You yawn, resting your hand on his chest as you close your eyes again and nestle into his shoulder. He hasn’t heard that from you in ages, he doesn’t know if you meant to say it, but he’s thankful you did.

“… Yeah, love you, too.”

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy

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buckybarnesandmarvel · 1 day

Text

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥

pairings: bucky x reader

summary: bucky hates his scars, he hates how he got them, he hates how they look and somehow he’s convinced himself that you hate them too. obviously, that’s not true

warnings: scars, self-hatred, some angst, sad!bucky, cursing, fluffy ending

a/n: sticking to a schedule?? who is she?! just a little blurb today, though :)

************************************************************************

He hated them. Every time he took in his reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror, his eyes were immediately drawn to the jagged lines that marred his skin. They were all over his body, reminders of the pain and torture he had to endure with HYDRA, but the worst were the ones that connected metal to skin. He still gets flashes, memories, nightmares, of clawing at his skin, his nails drawing blood at his shoulder as he tries to pry his body away from the filthy weapon they had given him.

His eyes pricked with tears of frustration as he shoved on one of his many long-sleeve Henleys, that clung to his biceps, hiding the horrendous marks that corrupted his skin.

You smiled as he left the bathroom, coming to your shared bed, not noticing the masked look on his face.

“Hey, handsome.“

Bucky could almost scoff at your words. In his mind, he was anything but. Shitty thoughts invaded his brain, how could you love him when he looked like that? How could you not recoil every time you saw the scarred flesh? How could you still look at him, with so much love and adoration in your eyes when he looked like he did? Like a monster. How, how, how?!

You reached out for him, setting your book down, a smile on your face. The both of you had been busy today, barely having time to see each other. You reached out for him, your hands curling around his, pulling him down onto the bed.

Bucky swallowed as he took in your attire, a small, skimpy, sating nightdress, that barely reached mid-thigh. He knew were this was going, he knew what you wanted, he just had to come up with a way to stop it before you finally realised you were better than him.

Part of him knew he was being irrational, the two of you had had sex countless times in the past. Part of him knew you loved him just the way he was, you loved him for him. Part of him knew you didn’t care about the lightning shaped clusters of damaged skin that littered his body, but the thoughts kept plaguing him. It was like a leaking pipe in a small room, dripping slowly until it drowned him. You would realise your worth, you were better than him, better than his past, better than his nightmares, better that his disfigured body and once you realised that, you would leave. And that was a thought Bucky couldn’t bear.

He lay in bed, but pulled the covers tightly over you, shutting the lights so he wouldn’t have to endure the disappointed expression on your face. He closed his eyes, still silent and tried to focus on his breathing, when he felt your soft hands snake under his shirt against his toned torso. He tenses, his eyes screwing shut tighter as he tried not to give in to your touch.

“Bucky...”

Your hands massaged his waist and abs, roaming over the hard muscles and the climbed higher and higher. Just as he felt your fingers brush against the scars on his shoulder, he took your wrists in his hands and shoved them out of his Henley. Your eyes widened slightly in shock and as you started to try again, you were stopped again but his larger hands.

“Stop it, doll. I’m not in the mood, today.”

“Buck-”

“I said no.”

His tone was cold, curt, final. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. It had been like this for days and you didn't know why. Bucky wouldn't let you touch him or love him like you wanted to, and honestly, it was driving you a bit mad. You let out a small, almost inaudible sigh and roll over, facing away from Bucky as you tried to stop the tears from falling.

Bucky's supersoldier hearing picks up on your small, dejected sigh and it tugs at his heartstrings. His jaw clenches and, as much as his self-hatred is at an all time high, he hated seeing you upset more. He hesitate before sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp again, looking over your curled up form.

"Doll..."

You don't reply and he sighs, rolling you over easily and then taking your cheek in his palm. He saw how your beautiful eyes didn't meet his and he tried not to cry and take you into his arms.

"Doll, look at me... please."

His words are a whisper as he tilts your head a little up, but the pleading tone is barely concealed. Your walls crumble and you look up at him and he takes in your watery eyes, the sight killing him.

"I'm so sorry, sweeth-"

"Is it me?"

Bucky's eyes widen, he wasn't expecting you to say that.

"Is what you, doll?"

"Why you won't let me touch you. Is it me? Did I do something-"

You sit up, now properly facing Bucky, his hand no longer cupping your cheek.

"-because it's almost it been a week and I can't help thinking if I've done something by accident o-or-?"

Bucky can practically feel his heart break at your insecure tone.

"No, doll, don't say that, please, never-" he takes a deep breath, pushing down the lump in his throat. He whispers, "I'm a monster, doll, a monster. I'm hideous, my scars, my arm, my flesh. Every day I look in the mirror and I can't seem to think why your want to be with me. I'm... broken. I'm broken, doll and it shouldn't be on you to fix, it's my problem, not yours, but I don't want you to touch me, to see the... ugliness... I don't want you to leave me."

His voice breaks, sounding exactly how he feels on the inside. Broken, defeated, small. He can't bear to meet your eyes, dreading to find a single shred of disgust or disappointment or whatever may ring his stupid fucking brain could conjure up.

You, on the other hand, let the tears fall, looking at Bucky, the man you thought was the most handsome in the world, no, the universe, or, even better yet, any of the multiverses talk about himself in such a way. Without hesitation, you slide into his lap, your legs on either side of his thick thighs. You look into his oceanic eyes, seeing the self loathing in them. You repeated your earlier actions and slid your fingers under his shirt again. You felt him tense once again but this time, he didn't stop you. You pulled the shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor before taking his cheek and turning his face to face you.

"You're gorgeous. And this isn't some 'you're my girlfriend, you have to say that-thing', you are drop dead, jaw dropping handsome, my love. And I know you can't see that now, but I swear to you, Buck, I will spend eternity proving it to you if I have to."

His eyes fill with tears as your fingers trace over the lines on his shoulder.

"These scars don't make you ugly, they make you brave, they make you strong, they make you unique, you, they make you you."

You place a kiss on the border between metal and flesh.

"These scars are a part of you, whether you like it or not. They're a part of you, but that also just means I love them as equally as I love you, Bucky. It will only be you. It will only ever be you. No one else, not in a million years, not in any universe. I want, my scarred, handsome supersoldier, but only if he promises to try and learn to love himself as much as I do. For me."

Words are caught in his throat, his heart bursting with love for you. He lets the tears fall as he sobs against you, holding you like a lifeline. But between his broken, child-like cries, you feel a subtly nod and a couple seconds later, his muffled speech.

"I promise."

************************************************************************

okay, so a little longer than a blurb

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tags:

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icallhimjoey · 2 days

Note

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.”

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x Y/N #joseph quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #rpf #ground rules #inside out & outside in #only have eyes for you

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darksigns-exe · 17 hours

Text

crystal clear - noah sebastian x f!reader

warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), more big feelings

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | read pt 1 here | taglist sign-up

It’s almost midnight by the time you’re done eating and have cleaned everything up again. Noah had made no mention of what had happened just a little while earlier. He’d just moved on as if nothing had changed, while you could feel yourself burning up from the inside out. The spot on your neck where he had left his mark still feels so raw when you brush your fingers against it. You can still feel his hands on your body.

He slumps down next to you, stretching his legs out across the carpet.

You don’t know how to move on from this.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you. You’d never be able to uncross this lines – not that you wanted to.

Noah lets out a yawn, letting his head thump against your shoulder.

“Mind if I stay here tonight? Don’t wanna drive back.” he mumbles in that faux pouty tone of his.

“Thought that was the plan?” you reply, bumping your head against his.

“I didn’t want to assume.”

He suddenly sounds so hesitant and insecure, and maybe that’s what makes you realise that this is just as daunting for him as it is for you.

“I was hoping that you’d stay.” you trail off, hoping that he’ll pick up on what you’re alluding to.

“That so?” Noah sits up, turning to face you, “We should talk first, though.”

As much as you want to drag him back to you, you know that this conversation needs to happen. And the sooner it happens, the better.

“I don’t know where to start.” you admit, writhing your hands together.

He reaches across to take your hands into his, “Neither do I but – I meant what I said earlier. I’ve been trying to find a good moment for this for a while now, but it never felt like the right time. And then you kept telling about how all of these people were just making you feel worse – I had to try, even at the chance that you wouldn’t feel that way for me.”

You want to reach out and smooth the deep set furrow in his brow, but with him still holding on to your hands, all you can do is squeeze his hands.

“I’m glad you did.” “So am I.” he replies, scooting a little closer to you, “If you want to I’d like to give this a shot. Take you out on a date and everything.”

“One condition.”

Maybe you’re pushing it but breaking the tension feels like a good thing right now.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“I want flowers.”

He breaks into a bright smile, “Oh, you’ll get so many flowers. Every day. As many as you want.”

Within the blink of an eye, you find yourself on your back once again. The sudden movement makes you laugh, which in turn breaks Noah. And when he kisses you this time, it’s all smiles. You thread your fingers into his hair as he trails a soft line of kisses along your neck.

You’ll never get enough of the softness on his face, the gentle adoration that simmers just below the surface.

“Let me take you to bed?” he asks so gently that it makes you shiver all over.

“Please.” you sigh in response.

You’ve shared a bed with Noah on multiple occasions. He has stayed over at your place so often that he has a small stash of clothes in your dresser. But no matter how often you’ve woken up next to him, it’s all different now. Sitting next to him on top of your bed feels a little new and strange. Noah seems to be just as hesitant as you are. And really, you get it. It’s a big thing. He knows that you haven’t been intimate with anyone before, and you can’t imagine that he’s taking this lightly.

This time, you’re the one who reaches out first. There’s a slight tremble to his hand when yours wraps around it.

“We don’t have to do this right now. We can just get comfortable and get to that whenever it happens.” you tell him, hoping that your worry for him isn’t too obvious.

Noah clears his throat, “I just want this to be perfect for you. My first time wasn’t good, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it later, too.”

The quiet admission stings deep in your chest, “I don’t think I could feel bad about it with you. I know that you’ll take good care of me.”

There’s a faint little smile on his face, a soft little thing that eases your worries and dampens the sting.

“I’ll do my best.” he replies, squeezing your hand, “If something feels off please tell me, okay?”

“Noah.” you warn, earning yourself another bright smile from him.

He eyes you for a long moment, smile still playing on his lips.

“Think I could kiss you again?” he sounds so adorably sheepish then, and you can’t possibly say no to him.

The kiss that follows is impossibly sweet. Noah’s hand behind your head keeps you close to him, but there’s nothing controlling about this. You soon find yourself on your back, with Noah once again hovering over you. The warm weight of his body comforts the nervous edge in your mind. You know what’s coming, but you know that you’ll be safe and well taken care of with him.

His hand drifts up the side of your body, slowly working its way under the fabric of your shirt. His palm is warm against your skin, his touch much softer than you had expected.

“How about we get this off you?” he asks, toying with the hem of your shirt.

There’s a blip of insecurity in your mind, but it passes as soon as you lift the garment over your head and the breath visibly catches in Noah’s throat. His eyes flicker across your bared chest, unable to settle on a single spot. You’ve never seen him this hesitant as when he reaches out to brush the tips of his fingers against the skin of your tummy. It’s almost as if he’s in disbelief at seeing you like this.

You reach towards him, almost mirroring his own touch. Noah reacts a little delayed, slowly taking his own shirt off. His breath hitches when your fingers make contact with his skin.

You don’t quite understand how something that is so very familiar to you, can feel this new. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but drawing the tips of your fingers across the intricate lines that decorate his body gives you an entirely new perspective. Noah lets out a breathy little laugh when you find a particularly sensitive spot.

“You’re so beautiful.” his voice comes barely above a whisper, disbelief still evident on his features.

You want to counter his words, tell him that you think the same about him. But the words just won’t come to you. Thankfully, Noah takes your mind off it when he leans down to kiss you once more. From here, his lips make a slow descent along your jaw and neck. You feel teeth grazing across the skin of your collarbones. He soothes barely there sting with a gentle kiss. You sigh when he repeats the motion, one hand weaving into his hair. His lips find the apex of your breasts, placing soft kisses there too. The attention he gives you is maddening.

He’s so very carefully when he helps you remove the remained of your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He’d stripped down to his briefs at some point, but with the rush of information and sensation, you must have missed when.

Noah kneels between your parted thighs, one of his hands placed comfortable on top of your thigh, while the other toys with the hem of your panties. His eyes drift across your body, stretched out in front of him. The shyness you had expected to feel is nowhere to be found. Instead, you feel so very comfortable beneath his glance.

“Oh darling.” he says with a sigh, dragging the backs of his fingers across your still clothed centre.

You gasp, not used to this kind of touch from someone else.

He keeps is voice low and soft, “You're so wet already, and we haven’t even done anything yet. Can I take these off too?”

You nod, feeling a little too shaky to speak.

“Push up a little for me.” he says, tapping your hip.

Noah works the fabric down your waist and legs, letting them disappear somewhere out of your sight. His fingers caress the inside of your thighs, not quite touching where you want him to touch. You are by no means a stranger to touching yourself. You know how to get yourself off, but the anticipation of someone else touching you like that fills your head with fuzz.

His thumb drags through your folds so slowly and carefully. Your eyes fall shut when he circles it around your clit. Noah mumbles something to himself, but the words don’t reach your ears. You feel fingers tracing along your entrance, and your breath catches when the tip of his middle finger dips inside.

“Do you always get wet like this, or is this just for me?” he asks, sounding almost amused, “Does that feel good?”

You whine out a yes in reply, earning you a soft chuckle from him.

He carefully eases his finger inside, paying close attention to the sounds you make in reaction. The digit curls inside you, drawing another new noise from you.

“I love the sounds you make. Sound so sweet.” He muses, eyes focused entirely on where his finger works in and out of you.

A second finger joins the first, still so very careful. With his thumb drawing slow circles on your clit, you can start to feel yourself unravel. The attention Noah pays to you makes your head spin. His softly whispered words don’t reach your conscious mind. Your mind can’t focus on anything in particular, flipping between sensations by the second. One moment it’s the intent curl of his fingers inside you, the next it’s the warmth of his palm on your hip. A whine catches in your throat, breath hitching as your climax slowly creeps up on you. As much as you try to keep your eyes open, you fail miserably. That floaty feeling only becomes stronger, slowly dragging you under.

You’re right on the edge of it. Noah’s hand wraps around yours, holding it just tight enough.

“You’re right there, aren’t you, baby?” he coaxes, fingers now moving faster and more intent than before, “There you go, just let go for me. That’s it.”

Your own fingers would never come close to this, and really you weren’t sure if you’d ever be satisfied with the highs you could bring yourself to. You’re sure that your grip on his hand is getting too tight, but you can’t will yourself to let go of him. Noah doesn’t let up, keeps working his fingers inside of you as you fall apart on his fingers. Only when your whines take on a pained edge does he ease up and slowly removes the digits from you.

You give yourself a moment before you dare to open your eyes. When you do, you find Noah already looking at you. You can’t describe the expression on his face as anything less than adoration. You try your best to memorise the moment, just for the worst case scenario that you’ll never see this again.

His thumb drifts across the back of your hand, effectively drawing you out of your thoughts.

“How was that? Good?” there’s a trace of the same kind of worry in his voice that you hear when he asks if you like the song he’s been working on.

“I don’t think that it’s ever felt this good.” you admit quietly.

The worry is immediately replaced by that cocky smile of his, the kind that makes you want to push him over, “If you’re up for it, I think I can make it even better.”

You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him.

Noah breaks a second after that, and the soft sound of his laugh is like music to your ears. He folds over, forehead coming to rest against your tummy. His breath tickles against your skin. You decide that he’s entirely too far away from you and bring your hand back into his hair to tug him upwards to you. Noah follows all too easily. He meets you in a clumsy kiss, still smiling when he pulls away from you a moment later.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, still so very close to you, “Good to go on or do you want to finish this later?”

“Don’t you dare.” you try to sound serious, but you can already feel yourself smiling around the words.

“Alright, alright. One problem, I didn’t think this was going to happen. I don’t have anything with me.” he sits up a little, suddenly sounding a lot more serious, “If you’d feel better with a condom we can wait.”

You consider your options for a moment. As much as you want this now, you can’t help but worry. Even with Noah’s assurance that there’s nothing to worry about from his side, the caution that has been beaten into you wins.

There’s no disappointment on his face when you tell him that you want to wait. Instead, his hand finds its way to the side of your face.

“It’s okay.” the genuine softness on his face eases the fear in your chest a little, “We don’t need to rush into this.”

“I’ve been waiting for so long –”

He shakes his head, “I know, darling. I know it feels like you’re missing out, but I’d rather do this right than rushed. And either way, I’m not going anywhere.”

You shoot him a questioning look.

“Did you really think that I was going to just let us go back to before? I mean, unless you want that –”

This time, you’re the one who stops him from rambling. You pull him in for a kiss, silencing him before his worrying derails entirely.

“I’m guessing that means we don’t go back to just friends?” he asks, that little bit of smile still fixed on his face.

“I don’t think I could go back to seeing you as just a friend even if I wanted to.”

Noah pulls himself away from you, looking somewhat reluctant to put distance between you, “Good. Don’t think I could do that either.”

“So what does that make us?” you ask quietly.

Noah is quiet for a long moment. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“I don’t wanna do this whole let’s see where this take us thing. I like you – too much, dance around this for ages. We’ve done enough of that already.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t want to pretend to be my boyfriend when a weird guy tries to chat me up in a bar any more?”

“Won’t have to pretend.” he replies so softly, “This won’t be easy, but I think we can make it work.”

“We managed to keep this friendship running while you’re off doing your thing.” you counter quickly, “Will be worth it either way.”

His smile widens at that, “We’ll make this work.”

“We will.” you reply, stifling a yawn, “But that can wait until tomorrow – later today.”

When you had found him on your sofa earlier that night, you hadn’t thought that you would end the night curled up against him like this. Or that any of this would happen for that matter. He’s held you like this before, but now, with his warm hands resting against the skin of your tummy, you feel so very comforted. You feel Noah press another kiss to your cheek, you’ve lost count of how many kisses he’s pressed to your skin since your talk, but they all make you feel soft and warm inside.

Behind you, Noah lets out a content sigh, as his arms tighten around you, and suddenly you wonder how you’ve ever gone without this.

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

#noah sebastian x f!reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fic

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 3 days

Note

Hiyah! could I request Donna with a reader who has a really ratty old stuffed animal that they’re super attached to that Donna is a little (very) jealous of? maybe during a crisis Donna tears it apart and reader is inconsolable for days and won’t even speak to her, until one day Donna very carefully repairs that stuffed animal for reader again. love some angst with a happy ending!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))

A childhood friend

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 7,770

Summary: How can I be jealous of a teddy bear...?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I would never have imagined that I was waiting for someone, that in the darkness of my bedroom, loneliness wasn’t my only company.

After so many years of loneliness, of so much crying, horror… Finally I wasn’t alone and I would never be alone again.

My life is of no interest to anyone, it never was. Maybe I could have the feeling that I really left the young and crazy Donna Beneviento to become someone important, so “lady” preceded my name and I would feel special.

No, that didn’t work. I will always thank the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, for having been chosen for a cause that I am still not sure of. I became a Lord, someone to be feared. Yes, that sounded much better than: the crazy and sick doll woman.

But thinking that something in my life would change after my transformation was only part of an illusion, a desire of my subconscious to abandon my loneliness.

Yes, I had power. I could do things I would never have imagined. Causing fear and suffering to those people who one day messed with me was a fun pastime, but it didn't last too long.

Power brings fear, and fear brings loneliness.

It's not that I wanted to suddenly find myself surrounded by people who begged to serve me, as my sister did. No, that false desire to share my life with someone was the only bit of sanity left in my sick mind.

No, I didn't need anyone. I had everything without having anything.

Thanks to Mother Miranda's gift I was able to give life to my partner Angie, my only friend, the only one who, even without existing, was by my side all those years. A miracle from the Black Gods, a gift I can never thank enough for.

But after years and years of thinking that perhaps loneliness would always be my condemnation, that, simply because I was born into my family, having spent my childhood, my life in that sinister village, I would no longer have the right to be a normal person.

You appeared as a coincidence, as something that shouldn’t be there and at the same time had to exist; a beautiful, perfect girl, daughter of the village weaver.

Were you really a coincidence? It was becoming more and more difficult for me to see it that way.

You had something I needed. You had fabrics for my dolls. At first it was unexpected. The Duke simply didn’t have what I was looking for. When I saw you… When I saw you I knew that I would never buy fabrics from that greedy merchant again.

I preferred to see you, to see your innocent smile, the lack of trembling in your body when I was near. You were different, you didn’t fear me, or you didn’t show it.

That was much more than I had in my entire life, someone who smiled at me, who didn't run away from me, who didn't beg for mercy. It was sudden, my heart started to move strangely, to pound when I got close to you. Yes, I never had the chance to experience that thing called love, so it took me a while to be sure that it was what I felt for you.

Longings, sighs, smiles… All those changes, those involuntary actions of my body were like a disease, one that I did like to have, for which there was only one cure: You.

After a while trying to put my feelings back together, assuming that I really loved you, that I visited you only to contemplate your smile, I dared to tell you what I felt.

I wanted you to guide me. I wanted you to tell me what those sighs meant, those smiles that you were unable to see through my black veil. I explained everything to you, with fear, fearing that you would think I was just stupid, a poor crazy woman who didn't even dare to talk to people.

Your smile grew bigger and bigger and then… Then you confirmed it for me. Those butterflies in my stomach, my mind ravaged by your beauty, the sighs, the desire to see you… It was love.

I wasn't surprised by your timid explanation but... When I lowered my head, ready to run away, so as not to hear your rejection, so as not to hear that I was just a monster, then you did it. Without fearing the consequences of your audacity you lifted my black veil. You didn't uncover my face, just a little bit of it, just enough for your lips to rest on mine.

A kiss, the first of my life but not the last, a kiss from those tender, brave lips that didn't flinch, that didn't hesitate... The best kiss.

You also felt something for me. Your body was sick in the same way, it was sick of love...

Explaining how little by little the kisses became routine, how my caresses became more and more emboldened by your skin would be too boring. Everything we lived always had an end, a bitter one, the moment when you had to go back home.

Desperate, being selfish and possessive, one of those nights I begged you not to leave ever again, to stay with me. You, always surprising me, said yes.

And that, that was the first night in which our bodies could embrace each other eternally, in which the warmth of your body remained in mine.

“Okay, I'm done,” you said when your usual clothes disappeared to give way to a nightgown, the clothes that would accompany you every night. “Donna?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, shaking my head, leaving that journey through my memories, that explanation I needed to know that you were real, that you did exist. “Come,” I said, patting the mattress affectionately.

“Wait, wait, something is missing,” you said suddenly, searching for something among your suitcases. “That's it...”

I blinked several times when I saw you with something in your arms, it looked like a teddy bear, or at least, it once was.

“What's that?” I asked pointing at that ratty animal as you got into bed next to me.

“It's Percy,” you said with an innocent smile, showing me the teddy bear and moving one of its paws comically. “Hello, hello”

“Percy?” I asked again with a frown, taking the bear in my hands.

The condition of that plush was terrible. It was missing an eye and the seams seemed to want to tear. The passage of time was evident in the old bear, it reminded me of Angie.

“Mm,” you murmured as I continued to look at that worn teddy bear. “I've had it since I was very young, it's important to me, you know, like a friend.”

“A friend…” I whispered with an inevitably unpleasant grimace.

I hate broken toys.

“Yes, I've been sleeping with him for as long as I can remember, he's always been with me, you know...” you commented, sighing and looking at the gestures I made on the animal, trying to recompose one of his arms.

“You haven't taken good care of it,” I murmured, looking at you out of the corner of my eye. “It's destroyed.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders.

“Yes, well... I've always taken him with me on my adventures,” you said with a nostalgic tone. “Time passes for everything, but for me he's still the same.”

“The same? (Y/N), it's missing an eye,” I said with a mocking smile.

I wasn't used to joking, I didn't even know how to do that, I always failed and that time, you didn't even bother to fake a smile, you just crossed your arms.

“You are missing an eye too and I love you,” you said with a dangerous whisper, one that indicated to me that you weren't joking.

I looked at you quickly, offended by your comment. You weren't careful, (Y/N), you didn't know how dangerous it was to joke about my horrible appearance.

Well, maybe you did, because your face immediately changed and you bit your lip, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Um, Donna, don't take it the wrong way... I, I meant it as a joke,” you stammered, with a reassuring tone.

I just nodded, taking one last look at that horrible bear and leaving it on the nightstand.

“Oh, no, no, wait,” you said climbing up my body and reaching out to grab the teddy bear. “Be careful, Donna.”

“Careful? Perché? I haven't done anything,” I said confused while you got off my body again, with that animal in your arms.

“Don't leave Percy anywhere, he’s fragile and... Well, besides, I already told you that I always slept with him so...” you said, placing the bow tie on that teddy bear, making me frown even more.

“Is the bear going to sleep here? In the bed?” I asked in a dark tone.

I didn't know why I acted that way, but I did, I had the need to do it, as if I myself considered that the bear was exceeding the limits of confidence.

“Yes... It's just that... Well, it may seem silly to you but... I continue, I continue sleeping with him,” you confessed a bit embarrassed, placing the bear delicately under the sheets, in a position that seemed horrible to me, between the two of us. “That way he could protect me.”

Ignoring the gesture of putting that plush to sleep with us, I laughed pleasantly, shaking my head and taking your hand.

“Come on, tesoro… You don't need it anymore, I'll protect you,” I said, moving the bear away from the bed.

You gasped, snatching it from my hands with a nervous, almost scared gesture.

“Um, I'm, I'm sorry Donna but I need it,” you said, looking away. “Well, unless… It's a problem for you… Be more careful, please…”

I blinked several times, trying to listen to your words over and over again and to interpret your serious expression as you returned the animal to that privileged place.

A part of me asked for tranquility, calm. The bear wasn’t something strange. I slept with my dolls, with Angie. I should know how important it could be for a person.

The other part of my head, the one corrupted by hate, jealousy and madness, did nothing but scream at me to get that pathetic bear away from the place my body should occupy.

“Um, it's not a problem,” I said in a small voice, with an expression that surely didn’t show the intention of those words.

Does she prefer to sleep with that bear? How stupid you are, Donna…

“Taci!” I said out loud, startling you with the abruptness of my words.

Again I wasn’t careful. I let the voices in my head sound real, cloud my senses. Luckily, it was only for a moment, until your soft and reassuring hand rested on my cheek again.

“Honey, I didn't say anything,” you said with a nervous smile, with that tone you used when the shadows stalked me.

I was stupid to think that way, to believe that the pathetic bear could replace me. I wish I weren't condemned to madness, to imagine that, around every corner, there was a threat that sought to take you away from me.

“I'm sorry,” I said, rubbing my eye and kissing the back of your hand.

“Relax, I know the move has been stressful for you but...” you said, taking your hand away and lying down on the bed, guiding me to do the same. “I'm here with you now, my love...”

Your whispers, your words of love always served to soften my sharp soul. The day you were gone... I wouldn't want to continue living. Not even eternal life would be a gift. It would be a constant condemnation, a time in which your loss would never disappear from my wounded heart.

“Certo,” I whispered, forcing a smile, reaching out my hand to remind the softness of your skin, to remind myself that I wasn't living in a dream.

You laughed softly, like every time my imperfect hands touched your perfection. Not even the fact that my hand touched that teddy bear stopped me from enjoying your hand, getting a little closer to kiss your lips slowly.

“Careful, be careful, darling,” you said amused, harassed by the tickling my lips did on your skin. “Percy.”

I moved away as my smile faded, letting your hands leave me to take the plush out from under my body and position it again, ready to sleep.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered with a fake voice, glancing sideways at that one-eyed bear, one that seemed to enjoy its victory. At least that's what my mind interpreted.

It was our first night together, and the joy in my heart hid those irrational jealousies for a moment. Having your body sleeping next to mine, your deep, calm breathing reaching my ears like a lullaby... That was unbeatable, even with that disgusting Percy separating us.

I could barely sleep that night.

I couldn't sleep because I had you by my side, because my mind traveled from joy to sadness, then to fear, the fear as always irrational and almost psychotic. I thought when I dared to close my eye, I would lose you forever.

That didn't happen. I dared to sleep, to test my worries, and I won. Well, almost...

When the morning cold shook my body, forcing it to wake up, the first thing I did was to reach out my hand to you. You weren't there. The warmth of your body had abandoned me.

I quickly turned on the light and confirmed my fears. You weren't there, (Y/N), you were gone. My breathing became dangerously labored and my eye traveled all over the room until I lowered my head.

Of course, Percy was still there, looking at me with its one eye, mocking me. It wasn't what I expected to see when I woke up but at least... At least I knew that you weren't gone, you would never go without that filthy teddy bear.

Nervous because of that cold look, because of that bear's sinister shadow, I turned its head, its body, preventing it from continuing to laugh at me, even though it really wasn't.

“Good morning!” A high-pitched squeal made me stir.

Small, familiar footsteps walked towards the bed, jumping on top of it; my friend, my companion, my Angie.

“Don't shout, Angie...” I murmured, shaking my head. “Where's (Y/N)?” I asked curiously.

The doll laughed amused, climbing onto my lap.

“I think she's taking a shower,” she commented thoughtfully. “Did you sleep well?”

“No,” I said in a cold voice, briefly looking at the bear.

“Of course, of course, your conscience did its work,” Angie said with a haughty voice that made me frown.

“My conscience?” I asked, running a hand through my hair, constantly looking at the door, wanting for you to appear.

“Yes, silly Donna…” the doll said, putting a wooden finger on my nose. “I'm sure you felt guilty for having kicked me out of the room.”

“Oh, Angie…” I sighed, understanding the reason for that attitude. “We've already talked about it, you can't sleep with us. You disturb us.”

“Silly!” my doll shrieked. “That's unfair.”

“Angie, taci,” I said with a darker tone. “You have to accept that (Y/N) now lives with us, so do me a favor and behave, will you?”

“I can't behave with the silly girl who forced me to sleep in the office,” Angie protested, crossing her arms and letting herself fall on the mattress. “It's very cold there, Donna.”

“Stop complaining, you can't feel the cold,” I commented, shaking my head, refocusing my gaze on that bear and sighing.

The doll growled, mockingly imitating my posture until she noticed where my eye was pointing, until she noticed that strange presence on the bed

-Ohhh - she murmured curiously, cautiously approaching that teddy bear. -What is this filthy bear?

“It's Percy,” I said in a small voice, frowning and looking away. “It's (Y/N)’s.”

“Percy? Hello, hello Percy…” the doll said, shaking the bear's paw as if she was really greeting it.

I looked at her and couldn't help but smile at that scene. Angie was a demon, but sometimes she managed to look adorable. I don't know what would have become of me without her.

“Hey, you dirty bear! I'm talking to you!” the puppet said abruptly, indignant at not getting an answer.

I laughed amused, picking up the puppet in my arms and sitting her on my lap, fixing her messy hair affectionately.

“Ti voglio bene, Angie,” I whispered with my soul a bit calmer.

“Oh, cheesy Donna,” she protested, removing my hands from her face. “Hey, that bear is rude, he didn't greet me.”

I laughed again, leaving the doll alone.

“He doesn't talk, Angie, he's not like you,” I explained while the puppet examined the bear again with curiosity, shaking it comically.

“Che palle,” she complained. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, as if she had just realized something. “I can't believe it Donna…”

“Mm?” I muttered, watching the door again in case you appeared.

“So, I, the wonderful Angie, the supreme Angie can't sleep here with you and that pile of dirt that looks like a bear can, right?” she protested, with an indignant pose, not leaving the poor bear alone.

I rolled my eye and sighed, relaxing my face again, turning it slightly dark.

“(Y/N) needs to sleep with it,” I explained looking down, remembering the conversation from the day before, those irrational thoughts that talked about stupid jealousy. “It's like... A talisman for her, or something like that.”

“How old is she, 5?” the doll mocked, laughing evilly. “Isn't she old enough for teddy bears?”

I sighed again, shaking my head.

“I can't judge her, Angie, until she came I slept with you,” I said in a low voice, taking the opportunity to remind myself that there was no problem with Percy.

“It's not the same, I can talk, and move, and be the best friend ever,” Angie said proudly, pointing at herself and sitting next to the stuffed animal. “Oh, look, look, he's missing an eye, like you...”

“Should I find that funny?” I said offended, crossing my arms. “It's (Y/N)'s teddy bear and she sleeps with it, that's all, there's no problem with it.”

“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” Angie asked, comically moving the bear's weak limbs.

I looked at her with a furious sigh, not having an answer for that accusation.

“I…” I stammered confused, but before I could try to defend myself, the footsteps on the wood indicated to me that, finally, you had returned. “Oh, (Y/N)…” I sighed with a smile as you leaned in to kiss me.

“Have you missed me, darling?” you asked laughing, surely due to my usual shower of kisses, a desperate one that tried hard to mark your skin. “Donna…” you said, pushing me away amused, kissing me for the last time and sitting next to me.

“I hope you slept well,” I said, forgetting for a moment about my dark thoughts, dazzled by your smile. “Have you been comfortable?”

“Oh yes, of course,” you said, nodding sincerely. “Besides, I already knew this bed…” you whispered in my ear, making the heat of my body move to my cheeks.

“Ugh!” Angie complained, interrupting unpleasantly. “Oh, my love, darling, give me a kiss, mooch, mooch, mooch…” the doll mocked, pretending to kiss Percy, something that made your smile disappear immediately.

“Hey! Don't touch him!” you screamed, moving nervously to snatch Angie's toy. “Don't touch him!”

“Ahhh!” Angie shrieked, fleeing from the unhinged fury of your words, hiding behind of me.

“(Y/N),” I said with a surprised look. I'd never heard you scream like that, I'd never seen you get that nervous. “Cal-calmati, amore mio…”

“It's not a toy, Angie, it's not for you to play with,” you said nervously, checking if my doll had caused havoc on that damn teddy bear.

“How dare you to yell at me?” Angie asked, peeking comically, pointing at you with her finger. “Say something, Donna, defend me.”

I should have, Angie was right.

“Behave, Angie, please…” I whispered, not sure that was what I meant. You looked at me gratefully, frowning, still holding Percy.

“Donna, you traitor …” the doll hissed moving away from me and getting off the bed. “I will get my revenge! You will pay dearly for your insolence! You and that filthy bear!” she shrieked before leaving the room, saying words that weren’t especially nice.

You shuddered, hugging Percy tightly, an image that my mind distorted horribly, making it not to look cute, but dangerous.

“Donna… She threatened me,” you said in a soft voice, getting a little closer to me with a scared look. “Angie won't hurt me, right?”

“Of course she won’t, tesoro,” I said, trying to reassure you with a sweet hug, with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don't pay attention to her...”

“And Percy?” you asked nervously, moving away from my kisses, from my comfort, and hugging that stupid animal tighter.

I sighed discreetly, shaking my head and drawing your body towards mine again.

“No, tesoro, she won’t hurt Percy either,” I said reluctantly, trying not to make my passivity so obvious.

Luckily you were too preoccupied with the bear to notice the apathy of my words.

That's how our coexistence began, in a strange but satisfactory way. After all, you didn't leave, you stayed with me.

I tried to forget about that bear, I tried to pretend that it didn't accompany us every night, that you hugged it instead of my body. Meditating in the solitude of my workshop, I came to the conclusion that there was no danger in you finding refuge in a childhood companion.

Yes, I stopped thinking about it, or at least I tried. You were so perfect… Seeing you every day, being able to kiss you whenever I wanted, being able to tell you at any time that I loved you, that you were my whole life, was a better gift than the second chance Miranda gave me.

Always so cheerful, so happy, sitting next to me while we read, on my lap whenever I worked on my dolls… I spent all my time with you, all the time I could. The kisses, the caresses, the hugs… Those divine gifts were my new routine. I couldn’t say I got used to it, because I could never do that.

Getting used to it would be trivializing your presence. It would be provoking your kisses to stop causing me that incredible emotion, to stop worsening of my favorite disease, my love for you.

But, although everything was perfect, although the days passed with my body in yours, with my lips adoring yours, there came a time when I began to feel a strange discomfort.

It was like a sensation that made our loneliness, our intimacy disappear. It was like when Angie was around, like when kisses couldn't be diverted into passion. The feeling of being watched got worse as the days went by and, even though I tried to ignore it, I really tried, I couldn't do it.

That bear, that damn bear was always with us. It didn't matter what we were doing. Eating, sleeping, making love, walking... That damn Percy always accompanied us, silently, with that disgusting eye laughing at me.

Living with you was wonderful, but... Yes, I hated that bear.

Your arms hugged it every night, that piece of cotton and fabric had the privilege of feeling your warm body, separating it from mine. It could be an exaggeration, a jealousy that made no sense at all, but… If I couldn't hug you at night, why Percy could? Was he more important than me?

Maybe I was indeed exaggerating. Maybe my mental problems made me see that filthy bear as an enemy and not as one of my lifeless dolls.

Openly admitting that I was jealous of Percy wouldn’t be good for us, I knew it and that's why I decided to pretend that I didn't care about the affection you gave him, that I didn't care about the kisses you gave to that battered fabric, those caresses so different from the ones you gave me.

But time only proved me right, it only fed my darkness. My lap was no longer a place for you, yours was now the bear's favorite place.

It seemed to me that you were distancing yourself, that you gave him much more than you gave me. It could simply be that I didn't pay much attention to you when I made my dolls, I even came to think that it was some kind of revenge for something I didn't know I had done.

I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't take it anymore, not that night.

The kisses were hot, wet. The panting began to fill the bedroom with lust. My heart was beating fast, my hands were traveling over your body. I was in paradise.

“Donna,” you moaned amused by my caresses on your neck, by the way my hands climbed up your legs, ready to touch you, to make you mine, to love you madly…

I laughed, biting your earlobe, moving your body so it rested below mine while my lips began to go down your neck. My mistake was not letting myself get carried away by the voices in my head, by those voices that I began to ignore.

No, the problem was much simpler, I opened my eye.

On top of your bedside table was that filthy bear, the damn Percy. He was always there, always next to you, almost closer to you than me. Maybe that's why I wanted to make love to you desperately that night.

I stopped, catching my breath, staring into that lifeless eye, feeling intimidated, watched, as if that Percy hated me, as if he was capable of feeling the same jealousy as me.

“(Y/N)…” I sighed, sitting up a bit, relaxing the movement of my caresses.

“Donna, why are you stopping? Are you okay?” you asked curiously, running a hand through my hair. I nodded with a frown, looking away from that bear. “Come here, my love…”

Your tender words brought back the desire of my lips kiss yours, but it only lasted a moment, until my stupid eye opened again.

“Mm, no, (Y/N),” I said, moving away again, shaking my head.

You looked at me curiously, with a strange look.

“What's wrong?” you asked with a soft, understanding voice.

You were so perfect…

“It's just that… I, I can't,” I stammered, looking back at that disgusting bear. “It makes me, it makes me nervous,” I said in a low voice, pointing at the teddy bear with my head.

“You mean Percy? Oh, Donna, it's just a teddy bear,” you said amused, pulling my face back to your lips. I pulled away roughly, determined that you would listen to me.

“Can you take it away from there?” I asked, with a cold look. “I can't concentrate.”

“Don't pay attention to him, I promise he won't say anything,” you whispered seductively, silencing my protests with another one of your tender kisses. Not even the softness of your lips could comfort me.

“No, t-take it away from there, tesoro, please,” I asked more nervously, with a frown.

It was a kind request, (Y/N). I don't know why you had to refuse.

“Don't be silly, Donna, just don't look at him,” you said, with a slightly more relaxed look, trying to divert my face from your table. “Don't be childish...”

“Childish?” I asked offended, mouth agape. “Come on, (Y/N), don't be stubborn. Put it down for a moment...”

I reached out my hand to fulfill my wish, but yours stopped me.

“Stop talking nonsense and come here, forget about Percy,” you said with an impatient voice.

Nothing I say is nonsense, (Y/N)

I tried to let myself go again, but I was too nervous.

“Cazzo...” I growled, watched by that lifeless eye, oppressed by the pressure of that smiling expression that would surely laugh victoriously for having won. “Cazzo!” I shrieked, moving to hit the stuffed animal, to throw it to the floor in an unpleasant way.

“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” you asked startled, pushing me to get off your body, desperately throwing yourself to the floor to pick up your teddy bear. “Oh, nothing happened to it, right?”

“I can't believe it, (Y/N),” I hissed nervously, shaking my head. “Leave that stupid bear on the floor and come here.”

“It's not stupid,” you said with a look that pierced my chest. “I already told you that it's going to get dirty on the floor.”

“But... You, you...” I murmured, unable to say a word, controlling my increasingly sharp nerves. “Porca puttana...” I hissed, getting up from the bed.

“Where are you going, darling?” you asked, confused by my abrupt attitude. “My love, uh… Why did you do that? You know how important it is to me…”

“You know what, (Y/N)?” I said, turning quickly before walking out the door. Your eyes looked at me scared, terrified. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I knew it wasn't anything good. “I, I'm going to the workshop.”

My cowardice was useful for once. I wanted to tell you so many things… I wanted to talk to you about my absurd jealousy, about my fear about that scruffy stuffed animal taking my place but… I couldn't do it, you would hate me for it and that only meant my fears made sense, that the bear was much more important than me.

I would have to calm down, my hands were shaking. That time I managed to avoid the crisis, but I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.

The next day started like any other, a romantic breakfast, your body on my lap again while I worked… It seemed like that tense moment had caused you to realize what my concern was.

But the reality was very different. That bear was still with us all the time, even closer to you, as if you wanted to protect it from another one of my slaps. You hugged it, held it close to your body. It was even closer than me.

“You know? I've been thinking…” you murmured while we ate. My gaze shifted from Percy, accompanying us, as always, and went to your beautiful eyes.

I nodded with a slightly forced smile, one that stayed alive in the light of your smile.

“Tell me what you've been thinking, tesoro…” I sighed romantically, something that made you smile in the same way

“Mm, I thought we could go for a walk in the woods, it's a really nice day,” you said with that soft tone, with that shy smile.

“Yes, a walk!” Angie exclaimed, startling us both.

“Um, no, just me and Donna,” you corrected in a slightly abrupt but amused manner.

“I want to go too, I want to go too!” the doll protested, tugging hard at my black dress, making me almost choke on my wine.

“Angie, cazzo, lasciami…” I protested, pulling the garment away from her wooden claws. “No, you're not coming.”

“Oh, Donna said a bad word,” Angie mocked, in an exaggerated manner. I shook my head, rolling my eye and smiling at you amusedly.

That smile faded when I saw you look at the bear and shrug. It made me so nervous when you looked at it…

“What did you say? A bad word?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, well, Angie's right, you better not learn those ugly words, sweetheart…” I said, dismissing my outburst with a wave of my hand.

“Donna, silly, mean Donna, I want to go for a walk, I want to go!” the doll shouted again, causing me to sigh tiredly.

“I said no,” I said firmly with a stern tone. “You stay here watching Percy, mm?”

“What?” you asked, startled by my innocent words. “Oh, no, no, Percy is coming with me.”

“That's it, choose the filthy bear over me,” Angie whispered, with her hands on her hips. “Donna, tell her something!”

“Angie… Can we eat in peace?” you asked again, clasping your hands together in a pleading manner.

My gaze darkened again and the hand holding my wine glass began to tremble. I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't believe it.

What was supposed to be a liberating step, without stuffed animals or dolls, was nothing but a continuation of that horrible routine in which Percy was always present.

My hand squeezed the glass so hard that it broke, causing you to moan in surprise.

“Uh, wow, you're strong, huh, honey?” you joked, removing the two glass parts from my hands. “Wait, I'm going to throw this so you don't cut yourself. Percy, keep an eye on her.”

The anger could no longer stay inside me.

“Don't go, (Y/N),” I said, getting up from the table and getting in your way.

“Oh, do you want something from the kitchen?” you asked innocently, emptying the broken glass’ wine into yours.

“No,” I said abruptly, with my teeth clenched, with my fist wanting to break more glasses. “The bear is not coming with us.”

“What? Oh, um, why not?” you stammered, putting the crystals in a basket and looking at me confused. “Of course it’s coming.”

“Of course it’s not. The bear is staying,” I hissed, breathing more and more heavily.

“No, the bear is coming with us,” you said with a fake, nervous smile, as if I was saying something crazy. I wasn't, I was right. “What's wrong with you?”

Your words only increased my nerves. I couldn't stand it anymore. The madness was starting to make me lose control.

“What's wrong with me, huh?!” I screamed furiously, unhinged, letting out that contained rage, that stupid and absurd jealousy. “Qual è il tuo problema!?”

“D-Donna, you know I don't understand Italian,” you whispered cautiously, backing away slowly. “What's wrong with you? You're, you're very nervous…”

“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?” I asked in a lower tone, but just as dangerous. “Tell me, have you decided to make fun of me until I can't take it anymore?”

“What are you talking about? Oh, honey, you're losing your mind again… I'll go get your medicine,” you said nervously, passing by me. A bad idea, since my hand grabbed your arm tightly, pushing you back with a furious gasp.

“Yes, I'm losing my mind… Because of you!” I shrieked, clenching my fists tightly and approaching your side of the table, where that stupid Percy was resting. “I'm fed up, (Y/N)! I’m Fed up!”

“Donna, you're scaring me…” you stammered, grabbing the bear to hug it, to take refuge in it, instead of me. That was the last straw.

“Oh…” I growled furiously, snatching it away from you roughly.

“Hey! Give it back to me!” you shrieked nervously while trying to reach it, something impossible, since I was holding it above my head and you… You weren't exactly the tallest girl in the village… “Donna!”

“No! What's wrong, (Y/N)? If you love this stupid bear that much, what are you doing with me?”

“What?” you asked confused, jumping uselessly to reach your partner. “Donna, stop…. Donna!”

“Basta!” I screamed with more anger, pushing you roughly. “I'm sick of this filthy bear! Sick of you loving him more than me!”

“What the fuck are you saying?” you asked, furious, giving up and shaking your head. “Have you gone completely crazy? I knew you were jealous, Donna, really, I knew you were possessive but to be jealous of my teddy bear… It's too much, even for someone like you.”

“If you don't want me to be jealous, stop putting this stinky thing in my bed, stop hugging him at night!” I shouted, shaking Percy in my hand, noticing how the weak stitching on its arm slowly unraveled.

“I don't think you're the best person to accuse me of that. What about Angie?” you asked, pointing at the puppet, who pointed at herself and shook her head.

“Hey, don't involve me!” the doll protested.

“She's alive, (Y/N), this fucking bear is not, he will never be, he will never love you like I do!”

“You're going crazy. You must relax, give Percy back to me and go with your stupid dolls,” you said in a calm tone, getting a little closer to me. “When you get over that stupid craziness, we can talk calmly.”

I narrowed my eye, still breathing furiously as you extended your hand towards mine.

“Come on, Donna, be a good girl and give it back to me,” you said, with a demanding tone that ended up driving me crazy.

I growled, lowering the stuffed animal to your height but immediately removing it from your grip.

“Do you want me to give it back to you?” I asked with a dark look that was surely terrifying.

You nodded, you didn't seem moved.

“Come on, Donna, give it to me,” you said with an impatient gesture.

“Cazzo!” I screamed, grabbing the bear with both hands and doing the worst thing I could do, ripping it, pulling at those weak seams to tear it in half, to tear apart your most precious possession and throw it to the floor with a grunt. “Here is il tuo orsacchiotto di merda!”

“Donna!” you screamed, exchanging pride for the deepest sadness. “No, no, no!”

Screaming, you bent down to pick up the remains of the animal, bursting into tears that tore my soul apart completely. My madness didn't allow me to pity you, not even for a second. I thought I had triumphed.

“Why…?” you sobbed, trying to put the bear back together in a pathetic way. The cotton was sticking out of the tear and one of the arms didn't fit anymore. “Percy…”

I just looked at you, my gaze still dark.

“Donna,” you sobbed, hugging the parts of the teddy bear. “You are a monster,” you whispered, staring me straight in the eye, tears running down your cheeks.

You didn’t say anything else, not even that terrible insult made me stir until you ran out up the stairs and locked yourself in the guest room among horrible cries.

“Oh, Donna, Donna…” Angie sighed, coming closer when she saw the white on my knuckles disappear and I began to realize.

“Oh… What, what have I done?” I said, as if I had just woken up from a nightmare, running a trembling hand over my forehead, looking at a piece of cotton on the floor. “No…”

“Donna, my friend…” Angie sighed, hands on hips. “…You screwed it up.”

Angie was right.

My absurd jealousy, my sick mind forced me to break Percy, to take away your childhood friend. I hated myself, I screamed, I yelled, but none of that could ease my conscience nor heal my mistake.

You stopped talking to me, almost looking at me. You didn't even sleep with me. I had lost you.

But it wasn't a quick loss, you didn't abandon me completely. You were still in my house, you hadn't left me. What was initially a relief became the worst of my tortures. I could see you, but not have you. I could hear you, but not talk to you, I could look at your lips, but I couldn't kiss them.

I tried, I tried by all means to apologize, to beg you to forgive me, but it wasn't enough, it never would be.

“(Y/N),” I said when, as always, you sat down to eat with me. Your gaze was cold, annoyed, it seemed like you really hated me. My voice was soft, sad, apologizing with every word I said. It was of no use.

You didn't look at me or greet me. You just poured yourself a glass of water.

“L-look, I, I made lasagna… It, it's your favorite dish,” I said shyly, serving her a perfect piece that she reluctantly accepted.

“Do you expect me to thank you?” you asked, ignoring my gaze again. At least it was the first time in days that I heard you speak.

“(Y/N), per favore… Listen to me…” I said nervously, with a trembling voice and a tear in my eye.

“I don't want to listen to you,” you said in a gruff voice, dragging the chair. “If you don't leave, I'll go to my room.”

“Forgive me, I beg you, I'm, I'm suffering, tesoro, you don't know how much I am…” I said in a more pathetic tone, reaching out my hand to touch yours. You stood up with a cold look, without a smile, without the sparkle in your eyes.

“What do you know about suffering? You have no fucking idea about people's feelings, Donna. I'm going to my room, I'm not hungry,” you growled, getting up from the chair and walking back to the stairs.

“(Y/N)…” I sobbed when I lost sight of you, resting my forehead on my hand, letting the tear I was holding fall onto the table.

As if saying your name summoned you, you approached again, hurriedly, picking up your plate of food with an embarrassed look, making a proud gesture as you took that lasagna to your room.

A strange smile formed on my face as I shook my head. At least you were still enjoying my food.

“Is everything okay?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap.

“No, it's not okay at all,” I said hoarsely, pouring myself some wine. “I'm losing her, Angie…”

“Well, you've broken her childhood teddy bear and hurt her feelings, you can't be surprised by her reaction,” the doll said. She was right.

“I don't know what I can do… I'm desperate,” I murmured, playing with my food. “I'll lose her forever, because of me.”

“You gain nothing by regretting it, silly Donna, do something,” Angie said, guiding my face so I looked at her.

“What? I've apologized in every possible way, I've begged her and… It, it didn't help,” I explained while the doll listened to me, pretending boredom.

“If you think that by saying sorry you're going to fix things up, you're more stupid than you look, Donna,” she said, making me growl furiously, pushing her off my lap.

“Angie…” I hissed dangerously while a word stuck in my mind: fix. “Oh, wait… I think I got it…”

“What, Donna? What are you thinking?”

“Come, I need your help.”

The solution came to my head like a fresh breeze. Yes, it was true that saying sorry was absurd, that it wouldn't fix anything but… That only happened when there was nothing to fix. Fixing my mistakes wasn't something abstract, metaphorical. I could fix everything, really fix it. If I wanted to get you back, I should fix Percy.

With Angie's unmatched help, and with you not seeming upset with my doll, I managed to distract you so I could go up to your new room and get back what was left of Percy.

I spent two days in the workshop, without eating, without sleeping, searching for every piece of fabric, recomposing every part of that damn bear. If it had to be with us so I could enjoy your love, so be it.

Two new eyes, a restored bow tie, reinforced seams, clean and soft fabric, a rebuilt smile, he looked brand new.

“Well, there you are…” I murmured, running a hand over my forehead, yawning from exhaustion. “Welcome back, Percy. What do you think, Angie?”

“Oh…” the doll murmured. “It's amazing, Donna, I'm sure (Y/N) is going to love it.”

“Either that or she'll hate me forever… Is she upstairs?”

The doll nodded.

Slowly, I went up the elevator, with the animal hidden behind my back, walking slowly towards you, who seemed nervous, looking under the furniture, at least until you saw me.

“You! You crazy nutcase! What have you done with Percy?” you shouted at me, pushing me by the shoulders. I didn't move, I just shook my head. “It wasn't in its place... You threw it in the trash, right?”

“No,” I whispered with a hoarse voice, trying to keep my composure despite your angry pushes.

“Yeah, right, stop pretending, Donna. I'm sure you've gotten rid of it, how long do you plan to make me suffer?” you asked, pushing me harder and harder. “Talk, you crazy bitch! Tell me where Percy is!”

I didn't answer, no matter how much my heart hurt from your insults. I simply moved the bear from my back, holding it with both hands and showing it to you, who immediately froze, blinking several times.

“What…? Percy?” you asked confused, shyly taking the restored teddy bear. “What…?”

“Hello, (Y/N),” –I said without moving my lips, pretending to be the animal. You looked at me out of the corner of your eye and shook your head.

“It's, it's incredible… It's, it's like I remember it when my parents… Gods… What have you done?” you asked, looking at the clean bow tie, running a finger over its two now perfect eyes. The smile was starting to appear on your face.

“Donna fixed me up. She put a lot of effort into it. Look at me, I finally have two eyes,” Percy said again while I looked at you with a sad expression.

“I see…” you laughed with a sincere smile. “Look at the seams… It’s, it’s perfect…”

“Donna loves you so much. She’s tried so hard to fix me up to make you happy. She didn’t want to hurt you. She was just being silly, were you, Donna?” Percy said.

I nodded slowly.

You shook your head and laughed amused, leaving the bear on a table and walking towards me, cupping my face in your hands.

“Donna, my love…” you whispered, with tears in your eyes. “Honey…”

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you suffer… I, I just…”

You interrupted me the best way you knew, with one of your tender kisses, one that almost made me cry, one that you hadn’t given me in too long.

“I behaved like a fool too,” you said, playing with my hands. “I know the whole Percy thing was hard for you, Donna, but… Don’t, don’t worry, we’ll both make an effort to be a bit better, okay? I love you so much, my love…”

“I love you, (Y/N)…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #requests #oneshot

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razrbladekiss · 3 days

Text

TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.

PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)

WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.

Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.

Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“

“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”

He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.

“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“

“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”

“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“

“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“

I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.

BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.

“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.

Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.

“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”

He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.

But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.

Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.

He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”

Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.

Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.

Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.

But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x afab reader #tlou #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlou x afab reader

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writteninlunarlight-years · 20 hours

Text

My Espresso

A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time.

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self.

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue.

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities?

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.”

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!”

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again.

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you.

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up.

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table.

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.”

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.”

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him.

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon.

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.”

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her.

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.”

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City.

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.”

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.”

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked.

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.”

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room.

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home.

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak.

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7.

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside.

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail.

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.”

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music.

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part.

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted.

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie.

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well.

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even.

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you.

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso.

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?” You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano.

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you.

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid.

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.

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