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fruitcoral · 3 months

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GOOD LUCK CHARM

HSR || Aventurine x fem! Reader || smut

Synopsis: You are a pharmaceutical scientist who has been known as a walking good luck charm your entire life. Exhausted from working tirelessly and having to experience the bad luck of others, you decided to take a small vacation to Penacony, where you end up crossing paths with a certain gambler.

Since you've been young, you've been told you were a walking good luck charm.

But sadly, you only brought luck to others, not yourself.

You could remember all the times you've accidentally brought luck to others. Some are more appreciative than others. They, of course, never knew their bringer of luck was a random woman who had no other abilities.

The first time you brought luck to someone was your mother. You had scraped your knee one day while playing with some random children in one of the subareas of Central Starskiff Haven. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks as you threw your head back, wailing your little heart out until your mother scurried to your side in a panic. She comforted you, brushed away your tears, cleaned your wounds, and even placed a loving kiss on top of your bandaged knee. And just a few hours after that, she got the best news of her life. She got a promotion in her job that would pay her handsomely, securing both of you a comfortable life.

The second time was when you were comforting a new friend. They ranted to you about how they were on the verge of being homeless. As they bawled their little heart out, you pulled them into an awkward embrace and reassured them that everything was going to get better. Not even a day later, they arrived at your house with a toothy grin. Their eyes glimmered brightly as they relayed the good news to you. Their family had inherited a large sum of money, which not only paid off all of their debts but also left them with enough to last the next few years. After that, they disappeared, leaving nothing but a letter.

At first, you thought nothing of it and considered it to be a coincidence. But as strokes of luck continued to happen to people you had come in contact with, you realized it wasn't a coincidence, far from it, actually.

Sadly, you didn't have any luck to spare for yourself. It seemed like you took on everyone's stroke of bad luck. For with every stroke of good luck you experienced a horrendous amount of bad luck. For example, the last person you remember accidentally giving good luck too, you were almost crushed by a wooden crate that was carrying a heavy yet fragile item. It was honestly ironic and kind of funny.

Your mom constantly fretted over your well-being until she eventually moved. She got on the next airship and left for Herta's space station. Why? Well, not only was she offered a position to research her object of interest, but she also found it to be much safer than the Xianzhou Luofu. She also thought it was a great opportunity for you to build on your knowledge and possibly inspire you to research subjects relating to your ‘gift’.

Living on the space station was unique and did lead you to becoming a researcher of sorts. Although you didn't specialize in the subject of luck. Instead, you specialized in the topic of pharmaceutical medicine.

After getting injured after every stroke of good luck, you dedicated your time on that spaceship researching different types of medicine, their purpose, the benefits, the side effects, and the procedure on how certain medicine was created. You found it absolutely fascinating, far more fascinating than the conceptual research of good and bad luck.

After reaching adulthood, you left the spaceship under the guise of a pharmaceutical scientist. You have acquired the skills and knowledge. You spent days to months traveling from world to world, creating and distributing medicine for the ill, specifically for those who weren't as fortunate when it came to money. But, you also, as discreetly as possibly, gave them luck. You would remove your ivory gloves whenever handing them their medicine, making sure to graze their fingers with yours.

You worked tirelessly until you finally decided to take a small vacation. All the strokes of bad and good luck taking a toll on your body. You needed a break from being a walking good luck charm. So, with as much money as you could scrounge and with a fiery determination, you reserved a room in the Reverie Hotel months in advance.

The day you arrived at the hotel, you couldn't help but admire the many floors that stretched on for what seemed like miles. They were stacked upon one another until they practically touched the heavens. You admired the occupants, many dressed in clothing you couldn't afford. Even the staff was dressed nicely, which made you feel very underdressed.

You carefully approached the reception desk, making sure you didn't accidentally brush past someone, but it seemed luck wasn't on your side, which was pretty funny given your situation.

“Oh! I'm so sorry!” You apologized after accidentally bumping into a blonde who adorned extravagant yet colorful clothing. He was decked out in expensive jewelry that glimmered brightly underneath the large chandelier. The way he presented himself was similar to a peacock, especially since they were known for flashing their ethereal beauty in hopes of acquiring a mate. But in this man's case, it was probably to flaunt his status.

A wry smile enveloped his lips as he glanced down at you. He studied your form before averting his gaze. “It’s okay. It was just a mere accident.” He reassured with a wide smile. With a small dip of his hat, he excused himself, brushing past you and towards the elevator.

You watched him leave before shrugging and approaching the reception desk once more.

“Hello ma’am. Do you have a reservation with us today?”

You nervously responded, fidgeting, and you watched the attendant type your information into the system. You waited with bated breaths until the woman finally lifted her head with a professional smile. “Ah yes… Miss (Name), welcome to the Reverie Hotel. Here is your key, along with instructions on how to get to your room. If you have brought any more luggage, our bellhopper would gladly assist you in carrying them to your room.”

“No need.” You dismissed with a small smile before departing. You read the information on the small slip of paper while patiently waiting for the elevator. Once it arrived, you didn't hesitate to get on, press your floor number, and once again, wait for it to ascend to your desired floor.

After a few seconds, you finally arrived at your door and scanned the long extending hallways before deciding to go right. You checked each room number until you eventually found yours.

You didn't even waste a second in kicking off your shoe, dropping your luggage by the entrance and shrugging off your coat. You approached the dreampool, a large clam filled to the brim with glowing blue water. You hesitantly dipped a foot in, taking in the temperature. But, you were surprised to know that there was neither a heat nor a coldness that radiated from the liquid. You can feel it brushing against your skin, but it didn't even feel wet.

Ignoring any fear or doubt that surfaced, you lowered yourself into the liquid, allowing it to submerge your body in its watery tendrils. You made sure the back of your head was pressed against the shell and lifted above the water. You laid there until a soothing feminine voice echoed throughout your room. instructing you on what to do and guiding you into a peaceful slumber

When you opened your eyes, you were in front of a large building that greatly resembled the entrance of the Reverie Hotel. Your jaw dropped as you spun, admiring the sights. The beautiful bright colors, the vehicles, the stalls, the stores, and the people. It was absolutely breathtaking. You have never seen something like this before, and you were confident that you'll never see something that rivaled the dreamscape's beauty.

You wandered around aimlessly until you ended up in front of a casino. You knew that with your luck, you wouldn't win anything, but it wouldn't hurt to try! So, with a grin, you entered and were instantly greeted with a sickeningly sweet floral scent.

The loud sound of music drowning out the ecstatic cheers and howls of gamblers hurt your ears. But, it didn't deter you. You continued until you found a counter that exchanged money for chips. You only had a certain amount on you, but it was enough to last you a couple of games.

So, for what seemed like hours, you gambled all of your money away. Indulging in the delicious food and the addicting alcohol that traveled down your throat quite smoothly. It was sweet yet tangy with a little kick to it. With every drink, you could feel your mind becoming cloudy with every passing second. Your body became warm, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes hazy. You swayed with every step you took. Yet, you still retained some semblance of consciousness.

Alluring eyes watched your every movement. They watched as your figure brushed past people and just a few seconds later said the person had a sudden stroke of luck. They watched in mild amusement as you leaned over someone hitting their head against the panel of the slot machine while crying their heart out. You tug off your ivory gloves and brush your hand against their arm, while whispering reassuring words into their ears. You persuaded them to try once more and not even a second later they hit a jackpot.

Before they could thank you, you already disappeared. Wandering through the casino before finding a spot at a roulette table with a glass of alcohol in hand. You giggled as you counted the chips you had remaining. Just as you had expected, you weren't lucky in your bets. You have lost quite a sum of money and have resorted to drowning your disappointment away with booze. Regardless of this fact, you continued to place one or two bets and then dip.

Just as you were about to place a few chips on your desired color and number, you were stopped by a young man. His gloved hands enveloped your wrist and guided your hand to place a bet on the opposite color than the one you were going to bet on. Your brows furrowed as you averted your gaze to the dirty blonde who had the audacity to grab you without your consent.

Just as you were about to complain, your words died on your tongue as you locked eyes with captivatingly beautiful eyes. Their color was unique yet so breathtaking.

A sly smile formed on the man's lips as he released your wrist. He moved his head to the side so that his ears could graze your ear with every word that left his lips. “It’s best if you bet on red during this round.” Was all he whispered to you as he leaned away and placed his own chips by your own.

You didn't utter a word in response. Instead, you remained silent as you studied him. The clothing he adorned was only familiar until it finally clicked. It was the man you had accidentally bumped into at the reception hall of the hotel. Although, currently, he wasn't adorning his hat or his sunglasses.

“Congratulations ma'am.”

“Huh..?” Shifting your gaze to the Croupier, you were shocked to see her sliding more chips in your direction with a smile. You blinked a couple of times, trying to process what had just happened before you let out a noise of surprise.

You glanced at the man beside you, wanting to thank him but he merely introduced himself with a smile before you had a chance to say anything.

“We have yet to introduce each other. My name is Aventurine, and what may your name be, beloved?”

“...(Name). Nice to meet you.”

For the rest of the game, he guided you on where to place your bet and every time you won. At one point, after many drinks, you decided you had made enough and were leaning against Aventurine.

You don't know when, but you had taken off your gloves and had one of your hands pressed against his chest. At the same time, he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

With every win, he would tilt his head to the side and shower you with compliments, referring to you as his rabbit foot. His lucky charm. Each compliment was uttered in a sultry tone, sending chills down your spine. His hand ran up and down, his fingers occasionally dancing against your clothed waist.

This continued for hours until Aventurine decided he was satisfied with the sum of money he had won and had departed with you in his arms. He held you close to him, uttering words of praise that would cause you to bristle and your skin to grow warm. Your hands were clammy as you struggled to maintain your hold on him. You stumbled and swayed, occasional giggles leaving your lips when his hair grazed your cheeks.

Your ears rung, struggling to catch what Aventurine said to the nearest employee of the casino. All you could catch was “private room” and the rest was unintelligible.

With a wide smile, the dirty blonde guided your giggling figure to one of the many private rooms of the casino. Why? Well…he was curious to learn more about you and your gift. How have you managed to possess such an extravagant blessing? One that many wished to possess. Were you loved by the God's? Perhaps. Or were you just lucky? That could be another possibility.

Thanking the attendant who opened the door for them, he guided you to the nearest couch, helped you sit, before sitting down beside you. Maintaining one hand on your waist, he placed the other on your thigh, gently massaging the exposed skin with a sly smile. He leaned closer to your ear, relishing the expression that morphed on your face when his lips brushed against the shell of your ears once again. He whispered sweet nothings to you, buttering you up until you got comfortable. Until you were vulnerable and willing to answer his questions.

leaning back, Aventurine studied your form with a pleased look. He then proceeded to ask his questions. At first, you hesitated yet…with every question, you slowly started to open up more and more until you finally started to blabber. There were moments where your speech was somewhat unintelligible and was just dunk babble, but in other moments, your responses were unexpectedly detailed.

In the meantime, he continued his ministrations such as kneading your thighs, massaging your waist, and whispering into your ears. He kept going until he was pleased with the answers he got.

When he let go of you so that he could rise from his spot, he was caught off guard by the tight grip that enveloped his wrist. He couldn't even get a word in when he was suddenly pulled back and pinned against the couch.

His eyes widened, his smile faltering as he watched you straddle him, tightening your grip on his arm. You mumbled something underneath your breath as you lowered your head until it was pressed against his collarbone.

He would be lying if he didn't admit that he was caught off guard. Sure, he touched you in ways that could possibly cause the situation to escalate, but he really didn't expect someone who was far too lost in the euphoric haze to react.

“You…You can't leave yet. Y-You have to take respon…sibility.” You muttered as you raised your head, brows furrowed as you glared up at him. “I'm not as drunk as you think I am. Y-You've been…leading me on this entire time. So you…you have to take responsibility!” Your grip around his wrist loosened so that you could place your hands on his chest. You played with the edges of his chest window while simultaneously grinding against him.

Aventurine let out a small chuckle as he studied your figure before placing a hand on your waist. “Are you sure you want me to take responsibility?”

“Yes.” Was all you said before you pressed your lips against his. Your hands traveled down his body as you deepened the kiss. Your rear pressed against his crotch while you nibbled on his bottom lip.

At first, Aventurine hesitated before he softened into the kiss. He returned it with just as much fever and intensity. He returned the favor, biting down on your bottom lip.

A few minutes passed before the dirty blonde leaned back to regain his breath, but you didn't allow him to catch a break. You dove back into a case and slithered your tongue into his mouth, which caught him off guard. His eyes widened as his hands stiffened on your waist. He flinched when you guided his tongue to your lips before sucking on the muscular organ, eliciting a groan from him.

His breath hitched in his throat when you began grinding down on him once more. He could feel his body get warmer and his pants start to constrict, forming a tent around his bulge. Aventurine couldn't even say or do anything because the moment you noticed, you pulled back from the kiss and stared down at the bulge with a smirk.

Fumbling with the belt, you undid it, pulled down his pants and brushed your palm against the bulge.

Aventurine's body became rigid, his eyes wide as a small groan slipped past his trembling lips. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He just laid there, watching as you rubbed his bulge, pressing a sharp nail against the clothed tip.

Giggling to yourself, you continued to rub his bulge through his boxers, leaning forward so you could capture his lips into a kiss once more.

He struggled to maintain his composure or return the kiss. His lips trembled way too much, and he couldn't stop the moans that left his throat. Pleasured chills traveled down his spine when you massaged his tongue with your own. You greedily swallowed the noises he made.

A loud moan soon left his lips when you freed his dick from the tight confines of his boxers. “W-Wai-hngh!” Aventurine threw his head back with a loud moan when you enveloped your fingers around his shaft in a semi-tight hold. You pumped your fist, watching in mild amusement as the blonde haired man writhed underneath you. His shoulders trembled, and his lips quivered.

No matter how hard he bit down on his bottom lip or tongue, he couldn't restrain the loud noises that he made. And they merely got louder when you released your hold on his length and crawled back until your lips were hovering above his dick.

“I'm not r-ready…agh!” Aventurine groaned when you licked the slit, lapping up the salty precum that bubbled and spilled from his slit. You lapped it up like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Then, when he least expected it, you lowered your mouth onto the tip of his dick, sucking and twirling your tongue around it. After a few seconds, you lowered yourself further until the tip of your nose was pressed against his pelvis. The tip of his dick pressing against the back of your throat, causing it to restrict around his length, eliciting a loud gasp and groan from the blonde.

You stayed there for a few more painful seconds before you lifted your head until your lips enveloped only the tip. You lapped up his precum once more before you began bobbing your head. The noises that you made, the way your flattened tongue rubbed against his dick, and the way your throat constricted around him drove Aventurine absolutely wild.

One hand was draped over his eyes while the other positioned itself on the back of your head. He grasped at the back of your head for dear life while he bucked into your mouth. His moans and pleas grew in volume as he practically pistoned himself into your mouth, trying to chase his high.

And when his core was enveloped with an overwhelming warmth, his hips stuttered. Your throat constricted around him once more as he swelled and grew in length until finally, he released himself into your mouth. You, without missing a beat, swallowed his load in greedy gulps while leaning back, a hand positioned underneath your chin to catch any seven that managed to slip out of your mouth.

Aventurine couldn't bring himself to move. He was exhausted. His body twitched and trembled. He tried to process what had just happened, but you didn't allow him to.

Taking advantage of his temporary haze, you stripped yourself naked, kicking off your underwear and throwing your constricting bra to the floor. You shuddered at the cold wind that grazed your flushed skin.

“(N-Name)!” Aventurine gasped as he watched you wrap your fingers around his hardened length once more, pumping your hand while your free hand grazed your folds. He watched as you played with yourself, your hips bucking as moans spilled from your lips. When you tighten your grip around his dick, he can't help but gasp, thrusting into your hand.

At this point in time, he was far too lost in the pleasure and pain. The way you played with his sensitive dick drove him absolutely wild. It made his head cloudy and his knees weak. His hands shook as he tried to grab your arm, but he was only met with failure. Aventurine could just watch through bleary vision as you prepared yourself while simultaneously playing with him.

His voice died in his throat, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched you hover yourself over his throbbing dick, guiding it to your weeping entrance. Aventurine couldn't bring himself to protest, far too lost to even think of the consequences. But he did feel aggravated watching as you teased him with a smirk.

So, taking advantage of the fact that you were preoccupied, he lifted his quivering arms, grabbed your rear, and slammed you down onto him.

You let out a noise of surprise, falling onto the blonde in shock. Your knees quivered, and your lips parted. Slowly, the pleasure crept in, washing away the pain from the sudden penetration. You wanted to speak, but all that came out was unintelligible blabber. You splattered and moaned as Aventurine held you in place for a few more seconds before he started thrusting into you.

His thrusts were fast, yet they had no tempo. He merely moved with vigor, caring less if you felt pleasure in his movement. Aventurine dug his fingers into the supple skin of your ass, spreading your cheeks as he continued to thrust into you like a wild animal.

It hurt…but it was so good. The pleasure outweighs the pain. The way his dick slammed against your walls drove you wild and weak. You could hardly even think anymore. You couldn't process what was occurring and just laid there as Aventurine drilled into you.

Aventurine let out a moan as he felt a familiar warmth envelop his pelvic area. His core. And, treating it like an incentive, his pace increased along with the harshness of his thrust. The way your warm walls tightened around him caused him to grit his teeth and throw his head back. His nails dug into your skin, leaving crescent marks.

But, when he brushed past a certain area, you seemed to tighten more around him until you started to practically strangle his dick. He gasped in shock, his eyes widening in surprise before hissing. Tears bubbled in his eyes while he whispered from the pain and the pleasure, and yet he didn't let it deter him.

Aventurine continued to brush against your g-stop, causing your eyes to roll behind your head. Although, the moment he started to swell, that was when you truly felt bliss. His thrusts became sloppy, yet they still maintained their ferocity. And, by the way he swelled and the loud moans, you knew he was close.

The both of you soon threw your head backs, your moans loud enough that they could be heard by the others outside, but you could care less.

Your walls tightened around Aventurine's dick, spasming as you came, the heat in your core growing in intensity, practically scorching you from the inside. Aventurine soon joined you with a whimper, tears streaming down his as he held you in place, spilling his sperm into your pussy, which practically milked him.

While trying to catch your breath, you lifted yourself off of Aventurine, elbows shaking as they struggled to maintain your weight. You moved to get off of the blonde, but out of nowhere, he grabbed your waist and soon pinned you against the couch. Your eyes widened as you glanced up at Aventurine before your gaze slowly traveled down to stare at his dick, watching as it slowly came to life once more, growing in length.

Aventurine threw your legs over his shoulders and positioned himself to your entrance once more. His lips curled into a wide smile as he cupped the back of your neck. Lowering his head, his lips grazed yours as he spoke, “we're not done yet.”

#hsr smut #aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine x reader #x reader #fem reader #aventurine smut #hsr aventurine #smut

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purple-babygirl · 6 months

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welcome baaaack! i missed you so much

i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.

much love purple<3

Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.

Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms

A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)

perfect to me

“I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.

Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.

It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.

He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.

“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.

“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.

“What?!”

“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.

“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.

“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.

“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.

“And now you’re too fat for her.”

“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”

“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.

“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.

“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.

“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.

“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”

The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.

“I saw her coming to his building with him.”

“How’d you even-”

“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.

“It’s probably someone else.”

“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”

“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”

“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.

“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.

The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?

He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.

His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.

All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.

“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.

Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.

Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.

She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.

She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.

“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.

“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.

For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.

“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.

“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.

“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.

“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.

“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”

“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.

“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.

“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.

“Why you’re here!”

“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”

“Do you really love me?”

This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.

“James, what’s going on?”

“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.

“Of course I love you!”

“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.

“W—what?”

There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.

She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.

“What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”

“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.

“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.

“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.

“Leave, plum.”

“Bucky, me and Sam were—”

“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.

The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.

“Bucky!”

He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.

“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.

Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.

She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?

“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”

Bucky stared at her dumbly.

“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”

“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”

“Sweet plum-”

“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.

It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.

“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”

But this was big.

Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.

She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.

“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.

“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.

Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.

How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.

He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.

“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”

“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.

“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.

Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?

“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.

“Bucky.”

“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.

“Tell me what happened.” She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.

“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.

She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.

Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.

“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.

Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.

“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.

“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.

She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.

“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”

“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.

Bucky nodded.

“And you believed him?”

“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”

“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”

“Baby—”

“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”

“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.

She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.

“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.

“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.

Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.

Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.

This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.

“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.

Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.

“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.

She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.

Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.

“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.

“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”

She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.

“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”

Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.

“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.

Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…

She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.

He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.

“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.

Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.

Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.

“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.

“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”

Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.

His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.

“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.

“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”

Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.

When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.

No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.

She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.

Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.

“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.

“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.

“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.

“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.

“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.

“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”

Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.

“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.

“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”

“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.

“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.

Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.

She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.

“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.

She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.

“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.

She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.

“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.

“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.

“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.

“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.

“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”

“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.

“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.

“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.

“You know I do. Stop.”

“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”

“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.

“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.

“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.

“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.

Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.

“So much you’d let me take you again?”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.

And he wasn’t going to.

Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.

“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.

She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.

“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”

“I love you so much, plum.”

“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.

“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”

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huggingkoalas · 4 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!singlemother!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ after a series of misfortunes, a knight in shining armor saves you and exacts retribution for you.

word count — ‧₊˚ 4.8k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort(?), pet names (sweetheart, love), cursing, gambling, natasha and reader having a crush on each other, mentions of alcohol, punching, reader getting hurt, bruises, reader having the cutest moments with daughter, mentions of guns, clint being such a w in this fic, implied character death (not natasha or reader), mentions of drugs

authors note — ‧₊˚ finally finished this request sent a month ago :’) this isn’t the best i’ve written, but awjfjaw the amount of soft fluffy moments between reader and daughter is absolutely adorable :3 <3

The dimly lit basement was illuminated by flickering neon lights outside, which created an unsettling colour through the stained glass. Even though it was late, the passing of time didn’t seem to matter as hopeless souls gathered to drown themselves in their sorrows. It was almost suffocating, the smell of cigarettes mingled with human perspiration and the tainted air from spilt alcohol.

Natasha surveyed the room, her keen eyes taking in the shabby decor — mismatched furniture, cracked tiles, and worn-out leather chairs. Her eyes then darted to the motley collection of people surrounding a table. Their murmurs blended into the low hum of an old jukebox playing a melancholic tune. Her eyes moved from one weary face to another. Huddled together, an older woman with a permanent scowl etched into her face, a burly figure with a nervous tic in his left eye, and a muscular man — a sleek, smooth-talking gambler known only as Victor.

But amongst all of them, her gaze lingered on you, the youngest woman in the group, whose eyes never left the cards in hand.

Natasha could sense your frustration, the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and the way your hands trembled slightly as you placed your bet, the deep sigh that escaped your lips. It was clear you were in over your head, just like so many others around the table.

Natasha took a slow sip of her cup of water, letting the liquid warmth quench her thirst. She knew that she couldn’t afford to get distracted by alcohol, not tonight. Victor, her target for tonight, was slippery, a master at evading the law and anyone who dared to challenge him. Not only did he like gambling and taking money away from the poor, but he was rumoured to be involved in something much darker — involving a new drug that was beginning to surface on the streets. It was whispered about in hushed tones, but S.H.I.E.L.D. caught wind of it, of its effects unknown but rumoured to be potent and addictive.

Furthermore, it was obvious to Natasha that Victor was cheating. The man dealing the cards was one of his henchmen, subtly slipping him the cards he needed to win. Natasha’s keen observation skills caught the sleight of hand and the coded signals exchanged between Victor and his accomplice.

She had been assigned to a solo mission to capture him. Not only was she doing her job as an Avenger, but she also wanted justice. She wanted to exact revenge for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, for those whose lives Victor had ruined.

Her eyes flicked back to Victor, who was grinning as he raked in another pile of chips. His smooth demeanour masked the predator within, but Natasha could see the calculating glint in his eyes. She’d spent days tracking him, gathering evidence, and now she was finally confident and close enough to take him down.

But first, she had a pull in her gut to ensure you got out of this mess. A feeling to help the weak, perhaps. Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that you were here not by choice but by necessity. Perhaps you had debts to pay or were trying to find a way out of a bad situation. Either way, she couldn’t just stand by and watch you fall deeper into an abyss.

She pushed off from the bar and made her way towards the table.

“Mind if I join?” Natasha asked in a firm but calm voice. She pulled out a chair beside you and sat down without waiting for an answer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash, placing it on the table.

Victor’s smile widened for a brief moment before he regained his composure. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “The more, the merrier.”

Natasha glanced around the table. “I don’t have the money in chips,” she said, “but I think this should cover it.”

The dealer nodded, exchanging her cash for a stack of chips. Natasha arranged them in front of her, drawing the attention of everyone around. You shifted again in your seat, trying to focus on your cards, but the sight of Natasha only made you lose more focus. Her beauty was captivating, with her striking features framed by waves of red hair that fell elegantly around her shoulders. Her green eyes, sharp and piercing, reminded you of the vivid colour of an emerald gemstone. You could get lost in them.

It was hard not to be mesmerised by her, especially when she kept turning her gaze towards you, her expression softening with a hint of encouragement as she offered a reassuring nod. The action made your stomach flutter, and you could almost feel your heart beat faster. Her beauty was a distraction, and you felt a pang of frustration as you realised you were going to get distracted by someone as beautiful as Aphrodite.

Fuck, how were you going to win and pay off your debts if you were this weak to attraction?

Natasha seemed to sense your struggle. She leaned in slightly, whispering. “Focus, love.”

The nickname sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a shaky exhale as you gripped your cards tighter. Natasha knew she was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she didn’t realise that it’d have such a huge effect on you. She rubbed her teeth against her lower lip, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

Victor’s eyes flicked between you, his interest piqued by Natasha’s involvement. He could see your distraction, and it amused him. To him, you were just another easy prey. He leaned back, confident that the game was in his favour.

And he was right. Despite Natasha’s encouragement, your bad luck continued. As the last of your chips disappeared, you slumped back in your chair, defeated. Natasha frowned, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head, giving Natasha a feigned smile. “It’s fine.”

Victor leaned back smugly, watching the exchange in front of him. “Tough luck,” he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, smirking. “Maybe next time.”

Natasha’s eyes locked onto Victor’s, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t count on it,” she replied.

She stood up, helping you to your feet. As you left the table, a permanent frown etched on your face as a series of thoughts swirled in your mind. You couldn’t shake off the bitterness of your defeat, the image of all the money you’d earned slipping away like leaves in the wind. You replayed the game, doubt gnawing on you as you questioned every decision you made at the table.

As Natasha and you stepped outside, the flickering neon lights from the street lamps cast an even brighter eerie hue over the street.

Natasha looked at you, an expression of concern on her face. She didn’t know why she made a split-second decision to help you instead of taking down her Victor. She had her chance. She was right there. She could’ve waited at the bar longer until he’d gotten his fill of money for tonight, before capturing him quietly in the alleyway. But when she saw you — dishevelled, your hair a mess, and your knee jumping nervously — desperation radiating from your every movement, she knew she couldn’t just focus on her primary goal. You needed a lifeline, and she couldn’t deny that. Natasha knew that helping you was the right choice, even if it meant delaying her mission. She had to believe that some things were more important than revenge.

She’ll get him the next time.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You nodded, but your eyes looked so void of life.

With a sigh of sympathy, Natasha added. “Listen, I know I’m just a stranger, but-”

You glanced at her and interrupted her, sounding sceptical. You spoke, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

Natasha’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for the right words. She didn’t have a simple answer. She had spent so long focused on her mission that this unexpected detour caught her off guard. It wasn’t like her to lose sight of her mission’s goal this easily.

After a moment, she finally spoke. “You looked like you needed help,” she said simply, her tone even, almost indifferent. She didn’t want to show the hurricane of emotions inside her.

You stared at her, trying to read her expression, but her face easily concealed her feelings. She was frustrated at herself for getting distracted, of course. But the only person she could blame was herself.

Natasha looked away, scanning the street as if assessing the surroundings for any potential threats. “Let’s get you home safe,” she said.

You nodded, still unsure of what to make of her. You knew it was reckless, bringing a stranger into your home, especially with your daughter inside. Or maybe you wanted to spend a few more minutes with Natasha before she’d just be another stranger on the streets. A combination of confusion and exhaustion clouded your judgment. You were too tired to care, too drained to weigh the potential negative consequences. You just wanted to get through the night before your shift tomorrow.

You led Natasha to your apartment building, a run-down structure that seemed to sag under the weight of its disrepair. The smell of decay and neglect permeated the air. The stairwell echoed with sounds of a couple arguing and a baby crying as the both of you climbed the creaking stairs.

When you reached your floor, you stopped in front of your apartment door with a sigh of relief. Natasha’s gaze wandered to the door across from yours. It was her apartment, but she didn’t think it was worth mentioning for now. Instead, she noted the rusty doorknob and peeling paint on your door.

You fumbled for your keys, trembling slightly, and unlocked the door. As it swung open, you were greeted by the sight of your daughter standing just inside, her wide eyes filled with worry and relief.

“Mama,” she whispered, rushing forward to wrap her small arms around your waist. You hugged her tightly, the tension in your shoulders easing in her embrace.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” you asked your daughter, your voice straining to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “You should be asleep.”

She nodded, her eyes still wide with concern. “Had a nightmare. Couldn’t sleep without you.”

Your heart ached at her words. “I’m here now,” you reassured her, stroking her hair gently.

Natasha watched the scene with a softened expression. Despite her tough exterior, the sight of your daughter’s innocent concern and your tender actions tugged at something deep within her. She felt a tingling deep in the pit of her stomach, and an endearing smile appeared on her face. She followed you quietly, clicking the door closed behind her.

“Mhm.” Her gaze shifted to Natasha. “Who’s this, Mama?” she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.

“This is…”

Shit, you didn’t even know her name.

Natasha smiled, crouching down to your daughter’s level. “Hi there,” she said warmly. “My name’s Natasha. I’m… your Mama’s friend from work. I love your toy lion.” She said, pointing to your daughter’s stuffed toy lion held tightly to her chest.

Your daughter perked up a little. Natasha stood up, her expression shifting back to one of attentiveness as she looked at you.

“Alright, sweetheart,” you said, gently guiding your daughter towards her bedroom. “It’s time for bed. Go get in bed and I’ll tuck you in shortly.”

Your daughter smiled, giving Natasha a wave of her hand before excitedly heading to her room. You watched her go and made sure she went into her bedroom before turning to Natasha.

You finally introduced yourself. “I’m sorry for all this… And I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Y/N. Thanks for accompanying me home tonight.”

Natasha gave a small, understanding smile. “It’s alright. I had to make sure you got home safe.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to stay. We’ll be fine.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll leave you be, but if you ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”

You looked surprised. “You live here?”

Natasha gave a slight shrug. “Yeah, I just moved in a few days ago. It’s a small world, I guess.”

You managed a tired smile before taking her hand and squeezing it. She squeezed your hand back. You pressed a gentle, soft kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile. “Well, thank you, again, Natasha, and goodnight. I hope we cross paths again.”

Natasha’s cheeks flushed as she nodded, quickly making her way to the door. “Goodnight,” she said softly, giving you one last reassuring look before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

As the door closed behind her, you felt a strange mix of relief and gratitude. You turned back to your daughter’s room, the faint sound of her getting ready for bed pulling you back to the present. For now, you could move on from your streak of bad luck tonight, and you could focus on what mattered most — taking care of your little girl.

Natasha made her way back to her apartment, leaning against the door as she let out a slight squeal of happiness. She touched her cheek, feeling the lingering warmth on her skin where you had kissed her. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, an unexpected rush of emotion making her feel like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. She felt a sense of protectiveness and a growing bond with you, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

Shaking the thoughts away, she remembered what she wanted to do. She pulled out her phone and dialled Clint’s number.

Clint answered on the second ring. “Hey, Natasha. What’s up?”

“Hey, Clint,” Natasha replied, her voice low. “I need you to do a background check for me.”

“On who?”

“Y/N,” she said, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “I don’t have her last name, but she lives across the hall from me.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing yet,” Natasha replied, choosing her words carefully. “But I have a feeling she might need some help.”

“Alright, give me five minutes. I’ll see what I can find,” Clint said, his tone serious.

“Thanks, Clint. I owe you one.”

“Just looking out for you, Nat. Take care.”

Natasha hung up the phone, feeling a combination of apprehension and determination. She may have left you and your daughter for the night, but she wasn’t about to let you slip through the cracks.

The next morning, you woke up feeling slightly refreshed than the night before, but you could still feel the exhaustion in your bones. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, trying to shake off the grogginess. As you glanced around the room, you noticed your daughter curled up beside you, still fast asleep. You accidentally fell asleep in her bedroom.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face. “Mama’s gotta get ready for work. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. With a sigh, you reluctantly removed yourself from the warmth of the bed and made your way to your bedroom to get ready for work. You were in need of a much-needed shower to wash off the grime from last night. But as you reached for the doorknob, a series of knocks from the front door interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to race with anticipation.

Could it be Natasha, returning to check on you?

With a hopeful smile, you swung open the door, only to be met with a sight that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t Natasha standing there. It was Victor, the smooth-talking gambler from the night before, and also your debt collector. Your smile dropped instantly.

“Where’s the money you owe me, huh?”

Your throat tightened with apprehension as you stepped out into the hallway, closing your door behind you. You didn’t want to wake up your daughter. “I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “I don’t have it right now, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

But Victor wasn’t interested in apologies or promises. His eyes narrowed with disdain as he cut you off, his tone seething with anger. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t pay bills, and you’re also behind on rent. I’ve been kind enough to give you a chance to win some money last night,” he spat, his words like venom. “This is the second time you haven’t gotten me my money on time. You think I’m running a fucking charity here?”

You knew you were in deep trouble.

“I-”

“I’ve had enough of your excuses,” he growled, cutting you off. “You’re out of chances.”

Before you could react, Victor’s fist collided with your jaw with a sickening thud, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through your body. Stars danced in your vision as you stumbled backwards, the taste of iron filling your mouth.

You tried to defend yourself desperately, but Victor’s relentless onslaught on your body left you helpless, your attempts futile against his brute strength. Blow after blow rained down upon you, each one driving you further into agony.

He didn’t stop until you lay battered on the floor.

Victor spat at your feet. “You have until tomorrow,” he snarled, his voice dripping with malice. “Get me my money, or next time, it won’t just be a beating you’ll receive.”

As he turned to leave, you struggled to push yourself up from the ground, pain shooting through every limb as you clung to consciousness. You struggled with each breath, your body screaming for mercy. Your vision was blurred, sounds muffling into a distant echo as you succumbed to unconsciousness.

Natasha returned from her morning run, her breath coming in steady puffs of steam in the chilly air as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. As she approached the corridor, her eyes landed on a figure slumped against the door of the apartment across from hers. She quickened her pace, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight before her. You lay unconscious on the ground, your body broken and bruised. She rushed to your side, dropping to her knees as she assessed the extent of your injuries.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, her voice filled with panic. “Can you hear me?”

Gently, Natasha cradled your head in her lap, shaking your shoulders with urgency to rouse you from your unconscious state. “Come on, wake up.” she urged.

You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open. “Natasha?” you mumbled weakly, recognising her voice after awhile. Confusion was evident in your voice as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back down. Natasha’s expression softened with concern as she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Easy now,” she said soothingly. “You’re injured. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

Natasha managed to get you to your feet, albeit unsteadily. You leaned against her as she helped you into her apartment. Once inside, she guided you to her couch, where you could rest while she fetched an ice pack.

You scanned your surroundings. Your eyes widened in surprise as they landed on the dining table. Stacks of reports and files littered the surface, but what caught your attention were the numerous guns laid out neatly beside them. You couldn’t help but gulp nervously at the sight.

“What’s all this?” You asked, your voice weak but curious, gesturing towards the array of firearms.

Natasha didn’t have to look at you to know that you were talking about the guns. She paused, stilling herself before she sighed. She turned to face you, her expression unreadable as she returned with the ice pack from the freezer compartment of the fridge.

“Work stuff.” She replied cryptically. It was obvious to you that she didn’t want to continue the conversation further. She handed you the ice pack. “Here, hold this against your cheek, it should help with the swelling.”

You accepted the ice pack gratefully, pressing it against your sore cheek with a wince.

Natasha had a frown on her face as she watched you silently for a moment before finally speaking up. “Who did this to you, Y/N?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much you should reveal. You kept repeating to yourself that Natasha was a stranger, a beautiful and potentially dangerous stranger in fact, but no one had ever cared for you as much as her. Not even your ex-husband gave you this much concern. Seeing the genuine worry in Natasha’s eyes, you sighed, leaning back against the backrest.

“It was Victor,” you said, your face cringing as you uttered his name. “He’s been pursuing me to get the money I owe him.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened with rage as her expression darkened. She whispered under her breath, “That fucking bitch.” Her imagination was already running wild with all the things she would do to him if she got her hands on him.

She turned to face you again, her gaze softening. “Would you like me to call the hospital? Or perhaps bring your daughter here?”

You shook your head, feeling sick to your stomach at the idea of bringing your daughter into this mess. “No hospitals.” You firmly declared. “I don’t want her seeing me like this.”

Natasha respected your choice and nodded understandingly. “Alright, then,” she softly answered. “You should get some rest.”

“I have work today,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself to push yourself up from the couch. “I need to get the money for Victor.”

You really couldn’t afford work today, not with Victor’s threat hanging over you. You couldn’t even begin to think about what would happen if you didn’t get his money ready. Fear gripped you as you thought about your daughter. What if he came after your daughter? You couldn’t bear the thought of Victor hurting her.

Natasha gently placed a hand on your chest, pushing you down to the couch. “You can’t go to work looking like this,” she said, huffing. “You need to rest and heal. I’ll handle things from here.”

You looked at her, trying to argue. “But-”

“No buts,” Natasha interrupted, softening her tone. “You’re in no condition to work. I’ll figure something out for you. Just focus on getting better, alright?”

Seeing no point in arguing, you sighed and nodded, letting yourself relax back on the couch. “Alright,” you conceded, wincing as another jolt of pain shot through your body. “Thank you, Natasha.”

Honestly, you couldn’t fathom what you had done to deserve kindness from someone like Natasha, particularly considering the constant stream of misfortune that seemed to follow you like a shadow. Gratitude was a foreign emotion to you. Unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. It warmed your heart. You were grateful that some higher being brought her into your life at your lowest point.

“Don’t mention it, love,” she replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “Now, get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Natasha stepped out of the apartment and pulled out her phone as she closed the door. She quickly dialled Clint’s number, her mind already formulating a plan.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint’s voice came through the line. “What’s up?”

“I need your help,” Natasha said, her voice laced with urgency. “There’s a situation with Victor. He beat up my neighbour, Y/N, and things might be getting dangerous. I need you to come here with the Quinjet and get her and her daughter back to the Avengers compound. They’re not safe here anymore, and she refuses to get treatment from the hospital.”

Clint didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hang tight, Nat.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Natasha replied, relief washing over her.

Natasha hung up and returned to your apartment. She found you lying on the couch, eyes closed but not quite asleep. You opened your eyes when you heard the door close, giving her a questioning look.

She sat down beside you, her expression serious yet gentle. “My friend, Clint, he’s coming to get you and your daughter out of here,” she began. “He’s one of my closest friends, and he’s someone I trust with my life. He’s on his way with the Quinjet. It’s a high-tech aircraft and it’ll get you to the Avengers Compound safely and quickly.”

You gave her a confused look. “Avengers Compound?”

Natasha nodded. “Mhm. I guess I haven’t really explained what I do. I’m… an Avenger. I’m in a team with other individuals with special abilities and skills who protect the world from threats. My job is to keep people safe, and right now, that means you and your daughter.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? Won’t I be in the way?”

“You won’t be in the way,” Natasha assured you. “The Compound is probably the safest place for you, and you can get the treatment you need there. You’ll be safe there, and I’ll figure out how to deal with Victor so he can’t hurt you again.”

“Alright… Thanks, again, Natasha. I really owe you twice, now.”

“It’s fine, love. Just get the rest you need.”

You woke up, and immediately you could feel your head pounding. The sterile smell of antiseptics hit you like a brick. As your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, you realised you were in an unfamiliar place. The room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of medical equipment.

Panic started to set in until you spotted Natasha, a familiar figure slumped in a chair beside your bed. She was asleep, her head resting on her arm. The position she was in looked really uncomfortable, you could imagine the strain she’d feel on her neck once she woke up. At least she was here, and the sight of her made you relieved.

You took in your surroundings, noticing the high-tech medical equipment and the pristine cleanliness of the room. This wasn’t a regular hospital. Where were you?

You shifted slightly, wincing at the pain, but the movement was enough to wake Natasha. Her eyes fluttered open and she quickly straightened up, her gaze locking onto yours.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“The Avengers Compound,” Natasha replied. “You fainted back at my apartment, but we got you out of there. You’re safe now.”

You relaxed further into the bed, closing your eyes for a moment. “You’ve done so much for me, Natasha. I really don’t deserve this,” you whispered.

Your words barely scratched the surface of how you felt.

She reached out and gently held your hand. She held your hand to her lips, kissing your knuckles with gentleness. “It’s alright, love.”

You pulled the blankets to your cheeks, covering the redness seeping up your cheeks at her tender and sweet action. “What happened with Victor?”

“Let’s just say he… won’t be disturbing you ever again.” Natasha shrugged.

Before you could respond, the door to the infirmary burst open, and a small whirlwind of energy barreled into the room. Your daughter ran straight to your bedside. Behind her, Clint stood in the doorway, waving at Natasha.

“Mama!” Your daughter cried, throwing her arms around you as carefully as she could. “I was so scared!”

You hugged her back, ignoring the pain that flared in your body. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

Clint stepped forward. “Hey, I’m Clint, Natasha’s friend.” He pointed to your daughter. “Your daughter’s been worried sick about you. Couldn’t keep her away from this room forever.”

Natasha gently lifted your daughter from under her armpits and placed her beside you on the bed. She couldn’t help but soften as she watched the reunion.

Your daughter looked up at Natasha. “Thank you for helping my Mama,” she said earnestly.

Natasha ruffled your daughter’s hair. “It was my pleasure. Your mom’s a tough cookie, just like you.”

Clint stepped closer, giving your shoulder a kind and supportive squeeze. “You’re in good hands here in the Avengers Compound. You’re part of our family now and we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

Your daughter nestled closer to you, her presence a comforting reminder of what mattered most. “Thank you, Natasha. Thank you, Clint. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Natasha smiled nervously, hesitating her next words. She glanced away from you, rubbing her thumb over your hand. “There’s a way you can repay me, actually. Go on a date with me?”

#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #fluff #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

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blackypanther9 · 6 months

Text

Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I decided to do this Oneshot/Headcanon for both, alive!Alastor x daughter!Reader and Demon!Alastor x Daughter!Reader. Enjoy ! (Picture belongs to rightful owner !)

TAGLIST!: @meg-giry1 @wen01203

WARNING!: mentions of the S word, name calling, insults, mentions of cheating, Vox and the other Vees get bullied in public AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Human!Dad!Alastor x Human!Daughter!Reader:

When you start to talk about new Gossip:

Alastor was cooking Dinner as suddenly you bashed open the door, scaring the living daylights out of your Father. He quickly looked at you and made a face to scold you.

“Mon ange (My Angel), are you planning to give your dear ol’ Father a heart attack ?”

You ignored his scolding and gave him a big grin with a twinkle in your eyes. Alastor got intrigued.

“You will NEVER believe what I’ve heard, Papa ! That is some interesting tea indeed !”, you announced happily.

Your Father cocked his head to the side in curiosity, his smile not leaving, but it shrunk in curiosity and confusion.

“Oh ? What happened, Cher ?”

You entered the kitchen fully, pulled out a chair, sat down and looked at him.

“You do know Felicia Monrue, right ? You reported about her last week in your Broadcast, because she got caught drunk, even though there was no giggle water (Alcohol) allowed and she had to pay a hefty debt as punishment.”

“Ah...yes, I do remember her indeed. Hoho ! Such a gal getting caught.”, Alastor laughed out in humor, “Couldn’t even hold her own liquor, hahaha !”

You nodded eagerly.

“Well guess what !”

“What is it, mon petit (Little one) ?”

You looked around the house, as if anyone was listening in, then bounced and gave him a big mischievous smirk.

“Rumors have it, that she was spotted a few times with different men on her arm. She brought them home and someone heard lewd noises, while one of her neighbors swore they saw her and the different men in her bedroom, doing the forbidden act ! Can you believe it ?!”

Alastor took a sip of water, which he promptly spat out in shock, as you said that. He stared at you, then looked at his glass of water, then at the food he was cooking, then back to you and back at his drink.

“Am I sure that I am drinking water right now ?”, he muttered in shock.

“You are, Papa ! Stop being so silly !”, you replied laughing.

He looked at you again.

“You aren’t talking nonsense, right, Dear ? That poor Lady surely could never do such a scandalous thing.”

You shook your head.

“I really heard it, from more than one person too ! It already goes around like wildfire, Papa ! One even said that they have a picture of it ! If this gets out into the newspaper, her clothes store will shut down forever !”

Your Father shook his head and looked at his food, sighing in disappointment.

“Such a fine Dame and no class... Didn’t her parents teach her any manners ? How scandalous !”

You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a grin.

“Maybe it is just a faux, Papa, but it would be entertaining if it was true ! Don’t you agree ?”

“It sure would be, Cher. Anything else you heard rumors about, hmm ?”, your Father asked you amused.

“Oh ! There are new rumors about the Bayou Killer too.”

“Oh, do let me know ! I’d LOVE to hear their theories !”, your Father said enthusiastically.

“Some speculate now that it is a butcher and others that it is a doctor ! How ridiculous is that ?!”, you said laughing.

For a second the kitchen was silent and then Alastor broke out into laughter and he shook his head.

“A-a WHAT now ?! Hahahaha !”

Alastor laughed so hard that he wiped a tear away from his right eye. You looked at your Father in amusement.

“Stupid, isn’t it ? They really think you are a Doctor or even a Butcher ! I mean...you kind of are a Butcher, but at the same time, you are not !”

Alastor snorted in amusement and continued to cook Dinner, while you told him all the Gossip you heard and he discussed it all with you, happy to listen to anything you heard.

When Alastor starts to talk about new Gossip:

You were just returning from a quick shopping spree with some groceries as you saw your Father with a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a few bags from you and you both started to fill the kitchen cabinets and fridge with your catches that you got from the stores.

You knew that glint in your Father’s eyes. He heard something scandalous and amusing. You couldn’t wait.

As soon as you both finished, you entered the Living room and sat down on the couch, your Father sat down in the armchair.

“Alright, Dad, spill the tea. What rumors have you heard, hmm ?”, you pressed.

Alastor looked at you with one of his hugest smiles and started to chuckle.

“Do you remember Gwen Kosiak from my workplace, who quit his job not long ago ?”, your Father asked you.

“Yes. Why ?”

“Well my dear child, he was married and they seemed happy. Suddenly they divorced out of nowhere. Rumors have it that he cheated on his wife with the housemaid !”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“No way !”, you gasped out.

“Yes indeedy !”

You started to let out a chuckle.

“I would have never expected that from Gwen.”

“Me neither, Cher ! Me neither !”

You both chuckled and as it calmed down, your Father smirked.

“There has also been the rumor going around that the dress shop, you love to visit so frequently, is going bankrupt, because the owner of the store refuses to pay the rent !”

You stared at your Father gob smacked.

“Seriously ?”

All your Father did was nod.

“Indeedy !”

You leaned back in shock, then your face saddened.

“A real shame, guess I should look for a new favorite dress store then.”, you muttered.

“You definitely should, Cher !”, Alastor encouraged.

You could see that he wasn’t finished yet, so you waited for him to start the next section of discussion to gossip about.

“Also, Mrs. Tiana gave birth to her and her husband’s offspring ! The spawn looks nothing like them ! Hahaha !”

“You don’t think that she was going behind her husband’s back, do you ?”

“I think she was, Cher !”

“My, how scandalous ! Was it truly that bad ?”

“The child didn’t have their skin color, nor their hair color ! The child’s skin color was almost like mine and the hair was ginger ! Both of them were white and one had blond hair while the other had black hair. They both said that none in their Family tree had a different skin color, nor ginger hair ! So it just can’t be his offspring.”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“I never would have thought of Mrs. Tiana as a harlot.”, you muttered.

“None of us did, mon Cher ! Yet, here we are !”

The two of you continued to gossip and talk about rumors for a while. Alastor was always happy to listen, theorize with you and to talk about everything. He was almost like a woman, chattering about all the scoundrels that were talked about and you LOVED your Dad for that. He was practically both to you. A Mother and a Father. You never lacked anything.

In Hell:

When you start gossip:

Your Father was just about to wrap up his Broadcast in Hell, as you stormed inside. He looked at you startled, his Deer ears standing on high alert. As soon as he saw you, he rolled his eyes gently, scolding himself in his thoughts, that he got scared of you.

“Father, guess what !”, you announced happily.

Oh, he knew by that voice that you heard some gossip. He turned to you, leaving his broadcast on for now.

“What is it, Cher ?”, he asked.

“I heard some interesting tea about the Vees ! Wanna hear it ?!”

He perked up and looked at you highly interested. He snapped another chair into existence next to him and gestured for you to sit down. You did so eagerly.

“Now, what was that, Cher ?”, he asked, interested.

You were bouncing up and down on your chair.

“So, apparently Valentino and Vox are in a on and off relationship, just to screw each other, when Valentino’s harlots are too busy ! How desperate is that, Papa ?! Hahaha !”

Alastor, who sipped his black coffee, spat it back out and coughed into his sleeve from shock. Then he chuckled.

“That sounds pathetically desperate ! Hahaha ! I never thought that Vox would sink even lower than he already did !”, your Father laughed out.

“I didn’t know that Valentino was so depraved and pathetically desperate that he even fucks his own harlots ! Hahaha ! That just shows how unwanted he is !”, you laughed out.

“True, true, my Dear !”

“Oh, oh ! And have you heard that the Demon, Velvet dated, broke up with her ?!”

“Applesauce, mon petit !”, he yelled in fake shock.

“It’s true, Papa ! They apparently were dining in a restaurant and suddenly the man said that he is dumping her ass, then left the restaurant without paying too ! She left it, looking like a mess ! I bet the other two Vees had to coddle her to make it better ! HA ! How fucking pathetic for an Overlord !”

Alastor laughed loudly at that and petted your head, affectionately.

“Also, Vox tried to copy your Radio Station to make Radio Broadcasts himself, to grow bigger ! Can you believe how desperate that flat faced idiot is ?! Hahaha !”

“Is that so, Cher ?”, Alastor said partly amused, partly triggered.

“He tried to hide it from you too ! Sadly someone from his team snitched ! Hahahaha !”, you confirmed with laughter.

“Hmmm. Interesting indeed, Cher !”

“Also, some guests in Valentino’s porn clubs said that the hygiene in the bathrooms, of all the clubs, are so nasty that no one even wants to take a dump there ! Hahaha ! That insect is destroying his own image !”, you cackled out.

Alastor laughed at that.

“Well, what did you expect from a moth, Cher ? That they are clean ?”

“You would think his business and his employees means something to him, but it seems it wants to go broke soon enough !”

Alastor just chuckled and already planned how to teach Vox a lesson, for trying to take over Radio, HIS specialty.

The Broadcast went 30 minutes longer, discussing and gossiping about the Vees mostly.

After they finished their Broadcast, they saw that all of Pentagram City had a blackout. Welp, they fried Vox then with the other two Vees.

When Alastor starts gossip:

You both visited Rosie, just to catch up a bit and that was where everything went down. From a small pleasant exchange of how you all three have been, it turned into gossiping.

“My Dear, you have to be pulling our legs.”, Alastor accused Rosie in disbelief.

“I am not, Al ! I promise ya ! He really tried to eat her !”, Rosie insisted.

You just laughed and ate another finger that Rosie offered. You rarely did eat her treats that she offered, but today you were fine with it. Rosie knew about your picky diet swings, so she never felt insulted.

“What about you, Dear ? Any interesting gossip ?”, Rosie asked you.

“Oh quite some interesting ones, indeed !”, you replied.

“Oh do spill the tea, Dearie !”, Rosie said in excitement.

“Well, I heard that Zestial had three Sons and they are all down here. They say that Zestial hid them from everyone, because they are not very strong and he is ashamed of them.”

“Oh my...”, Rosie said in shock and intrigue.

Alastor was in slight shock and very interested in it.

“I will ask Zest about it tomorrow. After all we are supposed to meet up at Carmilla’s tomorrow. He is always there.”, you told her.

“Oh please do ask him ! I would love to know if these rumors are true !”

Then she turned to Alastor.

“And you, my friend ? What did you catch ?”

Alastor chuckled.

“A lot of people are starting to question Queen Lilith’s absence. Many say that she made a Deal with the Holy Gates. Others say that she got exterminated.”

“Hah ! As if anyone could kill our Queen ! She would NEVER agree to make a Deal with the Angels either ! How silly !”

Alastor chuckled and nodded, agreeing with Rosie, while you just shook your head in amusement.

“Also, it was rumored that Overlord Missi Zilla was seen with a lowlife Sinner, getting a bit steamy in an alley way.”

“No way !”, Rosie and you yelled.

“Yes, yes, indeedy !”, Alastor insisted.

Rosie leaned back.

“Oh my stars...”, she muttered.

“Who do you think it was ?”, you asked the two other Overlords.

“All I have heard was that the Demon Sinner was a bull. There was nothing else.”, Alastor chimed in.

“As if Missi would stoop that low.”, you scoffed.

“You never know, my Dear !”

And the gossip with Rosie and Alastor would continue for a long while, while you chimed in and shared your own gossip. You saw Rosie like a Mother figure and your Father didn’t mind it a bit. He was glad you liked Rosie.

You three Overlords would gossip for hours.

Alastor is a HUGE fan of gossip. You never know what interesting information you will hear, after all.

He would gossip with you, his beloved Daughter, like women would gossip amongst each other.

He would try and see if you were pulling his leg or not, but most of the times you were serious.

As soon as he got interesting gossip, he would immediately sit down with you and share, loving to bond with you over simple gossip.

He would always share a few laughs with you here and there.

He loves it when you have gossip/information about his enemies/victims. Somehow you just KNEW where and how to get the interesting tea ! He couldn’t be prouder !

He would never shut you down if you wanted to gossip with him. He would always listen and throw in his input/opinion on the matters discussed.

He is the perfect person to gossip with and so are you and Rosie.

I hope I hit the mark with this ! ^^'

(Words: 2 605)

Masterlist HERE !

#READ THE WARNINGS ABOVE !!!#fanfiction #fem!reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader #Father!Alastor #Human!Alastor #Alive!Alastor #Demon!Alastor #Human!Reader #Alive!Reader #Demon!Reader #Child!Reader #Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 3 months

Text

Shopping date

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary- how could you be so silly as to lose your cards?

Warnings- manipulation, dark! Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, potential Stockholm syndrome?, not proofread!!, coercion, gaslighted, darkthemes, I'd say some parts contain a little fluff

Wordcount - 1.8k

A/n-this is my first side part for craving you!!! This has little link to main series so can be read separately if you want but I would recommend reading all of it!! Inspired by a comment by @mrsmothermaximoff

You'd been meaning to pay Wanda back for something, anything really. Despite how casual she acted about you just living with her rent free and essentially doing nothing of any great contribution all day you still felt this nagging shameful feeling that tugged at your chest everyday, everytime she paid for you at a restaurant, bought you something she thought looked cute or let you borrow her clothes when yours seemed to go missing.

You felt awful.

Watching her pay for you and provide for you. Your whole life you'd never relied on anyone for anything. Never felt like you'd owed anyone anything. Rarely ever been in any kind of debt but now you owed Wanda everything. But she was so unwilling to ever let you pay her back, always insisting things were no trouble for her, of course they weren't have you seen that woman's paycheck? Telling you to save your money for better things. Making sure you never had to lift a finger for anything you desired.

This was different though. When you first moved in you'd practically begged Wanda to let you atleast pay for groceries and how she couldn't resist how you looked when you begged. So reluctantly, and with a backup plan, she agreed to let you do the weekly grocery shop and pay with your own money. Which for some stupid reason you'd been very responsible with and had a large amount in savings which could easily buy the two of you groceries for a few years.

Wanda did not want to wait a few years for you to come to the end of the money you had saved before gaining a little more power over you. She wanted it now. And Wanda gets what Wanda wants even when she has to play dirty, which she did often.

A rough plan she had concocted the day you'd practically forced her to let you pay for things was to get rid of your debit card in some way. It couldn't be too obvious but she still had to be your Knight in shining armour and save the day for you when you couldn't pay. She couldn't bare the thought of you embarrassedly leaving the shops after not having a way to pay, no she didn't want that for you. She wanted to swoop in and offer to pay.

Around two months maybe three had passed since you started buying groceries. You'd made a set schedule of it by now, you went Friday mornings around 10:30am when the shops were quiet so you could buy your groceries in peace without worrying about running over someone's child with your trolley. Occasionally Wanda came with you but not all that often. You assumed as ceo of her own company she'd have better things to do than go round the supermarket and also partly that she wasn't interested by it, that she didn't actually ever care what you bought as long as you liked it.

Wanda awoke early this particular Friday about 5:00am sharp and was careful as she got off the bed not to wake you, though she doubted she would, you were the heaviest sleeper she'd ever met. It was lucky she was looking out for you then, without her God knows what could happen to you while you were asleep. Before leaving the room she took a quick picture of your sleeping body, head firmly in the pillow and legs wrapped around the duvet half in and half out of it. How cute. She thought as she left gazing at the picture.

Once downstairs she located your handbag, a stylish one she'd gifted you when you worked in the office. Wanda took note of how tatty it was now. Scuffed and marked up. Definitely time to get you a new bag, she can't have her darling going out looking rough. Your bag was always fairly empty so she had no trouble finding your purse in it. Upon opening the purse Wanda took out any large bills and both your debit and credit card from within before closing up your purse and placing your bag back where it was originally sat.

Now the money was easy. Crisp paper bills burnt quickly in her ornate fireplace and brought warmth to the somewhat cold living room, you'd appreciate this warmth when you eventually woke up. Wanda knew this after all she knew everything about you.

The cards were a little tricker that the notes but nothing she couldn't handle as she quickly had another idea. Cutting up your card into tiny minced up indistinguishable pieces and then tossing them in a bin outside that you'd never look in. Wanda was left feeling... proud of her work. She felt like this was well a complished and you'd never be any the wiser. Not that you'd ever dream of accusing Wanda anyway, she was your saviour after all. Your were too clueless to ever once look past her charismatic facade. Too stupid, naive, gullible, dumb.

You woke up to an empty and cold bed a few hours later. Waking up alone always made you feel so awful but you could never guess why. It's not like you and Wanda were dating.. we're you? You brushed the thoughts away, she's just being kind she'd never think of someone like you like that, you tell yourself as you stretch and make the bed.

Later in the morning, you and Wanda were both being chauffeured to the supermarket. Whenever Wanda wasn't around to drive you or couldn't be bothered to drive she'd have you driven around by a private chauffeur who you knew little about. When you asked Wanda she only gave you vague answers saying the chauffeur called herself N and that was all you needed to know apparently.When you drove with N the car was always ominously quiet Wanda occasionally speaking in what felt like code to her and occasionally asking simple questions about how you felt.

Thankfully the supermarket was only a couple of miles away so the drive was over quicker than most.

When Wanda went shopping with you it was quite a different experience to shopping alone. She'd walk ahead of you almost protectively into the supermarket and then would make sure the entire trip round she was by your side at all times, leaving no room for you to sidle off or get lost. Despite what could be described as a dominant presence she never stopped you putting whatever you wanted in the trolley. If you believe the two of you needed that much dry spaghetti or fizzy sodas who was she to argue. I mean it was your money so she reasoned to have little to no input even if she despised some things you added to the trolley. She'd only really comment if you were going to hit something with your trolley, you were lucky you had someone to look out for your clumsiness, or if she also liked something you were putting in the trolley. Other than that she engaged in simple talk with you, she found your small world of excitements and thoughts cute. After all she had curated that small world.

Today was no different. If something was off, which it was. You'd be none the wiser as Wanda kept exactly to her act as she always did. Talking to you about favourite crisp flavours, laughing at your rant about creepy food mascots and helping you guide the trolley. Going round the shops together you felt some sense of domestic bliss even of you kept telling yourself you weren't dating Wanda it definitely felt that way and looked that way. The way her hand would occasionally glide across your back. Her lingering gazes. To anyone not so oblivious they would have thought you two had been dating for months.

Getting to the checkouts you placed your items in your own specific order on the conveyer belt. Wanda deciding to help out with the heavier things, she didn't want you to strain yourself for no reason. All was normal as it would be.

"Cash or card?" You were awoken from your daze of frantically bagging when the cashier spoke suddenly. Opening your purse it felt a little lighter than it should do usually.

"Cash." You responded while looking down into your purse. There was no cash. But you were so sure you'd taken cash out last week at the bank. Still the empty purse stared back.

"You alright darling?" Wanda's voice broke the panic building in you as you looked up at her calm smile while feeling instantly reassured. You nodded in response, a small but firm smile planted on your face as you spoke again.

"Uh.. can I pay card actually." The cashier smiled and nodded before pulling out a card machine. You sifted throught many a gift and reward card sitting in your purse many times awkwardly as a queue began to form before realising your cards weren't there. Your cards were gone. Gone. And you were none the wiser to where.

Your breathing began to pick up as you made eye contact with impatient customers behind as your braced yourself to have to put everything back. "I-..uh- I."

Wanda had been watching your small meltdown confidently until she heard your voice break. The moment she knew it was her time to save you, again.

"Don't worry I've got it." Before you could object she'd swiped her card across the scanner and begun picking up the bags for you and leading your slightly shaking figure away from the tills.

"Come on sweetie. What was going on back there?" She murmured in a tone so sweet you could've got diabetes. Before she could continue speaking you wrapped yourself around her arm. As if it was ab instinct more than a choice. "Oh.. it's okay darling we all make mistakes. I'm sure you'll find your money. You probably just misplaced it. Your such a klutz sometimes detka." You just dumbly nodded as she pulled you into the back of the car staying completely wrapped around her the whole way home, still shaken from the store.

Your cards and cash never did show up and at somepoint you gave up looking. It was clear for whatever reason they were gone and you weren't going to find them. Wanda gave you her card to keep buying the groceries on.. for now, I mean we can't have some klutz who loses her own money handling the ceos cards and shopping.. it'd be better if you stayed home. But Wanda wouldn't push it on you all at once, she knew you needed time yo adjust to using her money all the time. To being reliant on someone. To being reliant on her.

Taglist: @stayevildarling @reginassweetheart @alexawynters @your-my-mission @witchmaximoff @imjustvibingsworld @mrsmothermaximoff

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #lemonade talks☆•#wanda #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #wanda marvel #marvel #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximov #wandavision #wanda mcu #wanda x y/n #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximommy #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda #dark!fic

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unluckywisher · 13 days

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MY GRANDMA SOLD ME TO LOVE AND DEEPSPACE????

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. 2013 called and they want their Wattpad fanfics back. Cringe and cheesy and stupid and OOC on purpose. Let's have fun and relive this beautiful era of the internet. I wrote this as fast as I could and without checking for mistakes, in the true fashion of these fics. Written in first person, and using 'y/n'. Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus and Caleb are in a band called 'Love and Deepspace'.

Part 1?

I woke up after hearing some people talking downstairs, which was strange, because usually it's just me and my grandma, Josephine. Ugh, visitors?

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I was wearing a One Direction shirt and pajama pants, and honestly I didn't feel like changing, so I just threw my hair in a messy bun and went back to my room to check my phone before going downstairs.

Like always, I had no new messages. Not even from my best friend. Well, 'ex' best friend. Ever since we went to that Love and Deepspace concert she had been a bitch to me, all because one of the singers looked at me during the concert, which I didn't even want to go to in the first place, I went so she wouldn't be alone, that's why I took a book with me to read while they performed. But it just so happened that one of the boys on the stage saw me with the book and kinda looked at me and smiled, which made her really jealous.

Anyways, I'm not like other girls. They all like this new boyband, but not me. I like reading. The guy that looked at me wasn't even that hot or anything.

But back to the present, I headed downstairs, and...

"Y/n! Why are you still in your pajamas?" Scolded my grandma, who was surrounded by a bunch of guys. "We have visitors!"

The visitors nodded and waved a hand at me, smiling.

I looked at them, and realization slowly dawned on me. These were... These were the Love and Deepspace boys. What were they doing here!?

"Grandma, what's going on?" I frowned.

"We have no money left. Your grandpa, may his soul rest in peace, left us with a debt that I cannot continue paying. That is why I'm selling you to the town's mafia." She explained.

"Wh-wh-what?" I gasped, stumbling like I was about to faint. "M-m-mafia!? Is there no other way to solve this!? Can't I start working part time!?" I tried to find another solution.

"No, my little unicorn. Now, pack your bags, you're leaving right now." She turned back to the men and started lively talking to them.

My orbs looked down, tears starting to form, and I ran back to my room, slamming my door in anger. How could she do this to me? Didn't she love me?

I took all my things and put them in a suitcase, and everything conveniently fit inside as I closed the zipper with no problem.

There were so many things I didn't understand. First, what kinda shady business was my grandpa part of when he was alive? Second, had my grandma always been looking for ways to get rid of me? I mean, she kept making jokes about killing me over and over, but they were just that, jokes, right? Thirdly, the famous boyband LADS was apparently a mafia?

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding as I walked downstairs again, still on my pajamas. I was too depressed to change my clothes.

"Ready, cutie?" Said the purple-haired guy with a wink.

I huffed, making him laugh.

"Someone's not in a good mood." Pointed out the black haired guy.

You think, smartass?

"She should be, a lot of girls would die to be in her shoes..." Said the brown haired guy, playfully.

I want to die alright.

"I'm sure she'll warm up to us." Said the white haired guy, smirking.

In your dreams.

"Well, for now, maybe we should get properly introduced." Concluded the ashy blond.

I didn't say any of what I was thinking out loud, but I wish I did. The last guy was right, though, because I actually didn't know their names, I hadn't bothered to ever learn them, not even when my ex best friend invited me to their concert.

One by one, they introduced themselves as Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb, Sylus and Xavier. Names I probably would forget later, since I didn't care about any of this, much less them.

"I'm Y/n." I said weakly. The events were taking a toll on me, and it showed on my voice.

"Well, introductions done, it's time to leave," said my grandma, pushing everyone out of the door with surprisingly strong arms, "have fun, Y/n. And you boys can transfer the money this afternoon, yes? Good. See ya!"

I couldn't believe her. How was she so unaffected by the fact that her only grandchild was being sold?

"Here," Caleb took my suitcase, "I'll carry it to the van."

How nice. Not. What kind of intentions did they have with me? I didn't trust them one bit.

"You know, a smile might do you good," said Rafayel, poking my face.

I swatted his hand away, and he made an exaggerated face of pain, moving away like I was some sort of vile creature.

"She comes from a poor family, do you think she has rabies?" He protested. I facepalmed.

"Don't worry, I'll do a medical check-up on her once we arrive," said Zayne calmly.

I wanted to sink to the ground and curl up to cry. How were these men treating me like this... So naturally?

Sylus opened the van door for me and I got in. Once everyone was seated, Zayne started driving. Away from my home... And into the unknown.

Should I do part 2 and lemons at some point?

Divider by @/cafekitsune

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #l&ds #lads #lnds #sylus #zayne #rafayel #xavier #caleb #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace x mc #love and deepspace crack

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saltandfire-blog · 24 days

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All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

#lucemond #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #fire and blood #lucemond favorites #lucerys velaryon x aemond targaryen #lucemond fanfiction #lucerys x aemond #remember: don’t like don’t read!#hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction

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honeydippedwaffles · 9 months

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Fading Light

Summary: Tav changed in order to be with Astarion. She never minded adjusting her life to be with her vampire but the guilt he feels for taking her away from her life is only growing. Something has to give eventually.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.2k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

She’d always considered herself to be adaptable. She had to be, considering everything that had happened to her in the very recent past. From the moment she woke up on the awful mindflayer ship to the climax of it all, nothing had been a given. She’d been forced to change to save her friends so she had to be rather accepting of new situations.

It was why she had figured becoming nocturnal wouldn’t bother her much at all.

She’d hung dark curtains in her room to prevent the sun from waking her during the days. If she missed it, all she would do was wake up earlier and step out to watch it set before Astarion joined her for the night.

She didn’t mind living like that. Sometimes she missed things with her friends but she made the effort to see them and they responded kindly. She'd adapted.

But Astarion hated it.

He watched her wistfully when she made her way to the door during the sunlight hours – forced to leave early to pick up groceries or something while the merchants still sold their wares. He’d give her a kiss on the cheek and wish her well but she’d be a fool to miss his mood after.

She tried to bring it up and he artfully dodged around the idea. He’d always been far too good at avoiding topics.

The day it started getting worse started when she lost track of time early in the morning. She’d built a solid relationship with various traders and workers around the city. Those who knew things and could send her down the track to a potential cure if they came across it. Mostly what that meant was dealing with their ridiculous requests though.

Could you find my lost necklace (taken by his sister to pay off her gambling debts)? My daughter went missing, could you find her (she ran away to marry a hobgoblin, of all things)? Somebody’s stealing my goods, find them (rats).

This time though, they found the missing caravans by following the scent of rotted meat until they came across gnolls. They took barely any effort to get rid of but they’d set up their den in some old, crumbling houses.

And she could never pass down the opportunity to investigate.

The stone walls had been destroyed in a fire and, as she nosed around, she came across various herbs and poultices that promised this house may have been an apothecary’s stopover. Most of the stone walls had crumbled but a few stood and it was while she opened one of the drawers that she felt him creep up behind her.

His lips brushed against her throat, barely there but enough to send shivers of gooseflesh over her skin.

She tilted her head to the side in an invite and he nipped at the sensitive skin with a small chuckle. The chill of his breath over the shell of her ear drew an embarrassingly small sound from her throat. He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear and nipped at her earlobe with sharp fangs.

She fought the flush on her cheeks, turned around and kissed him. Iron lingered on his frozen lips as he pushed her against the walls. Her fingers crept up the front of his armour until she found purchase to pull him close.

No matter how often he kissed her, her heart raced just the same as it had that first time by the river. But he touched her with such reverence now; held her like he wanted to make sure she never left.

Not that she planned to.

She tilted her head back to draw a small gasp of air and he immediately fell on her throat; nipped at her collarbone and drew stuttered breaths from her lungs.

But the pulse of pleasure as his fingers skimmed her thighs quickly disappeared when she spotted the edge of the horizon beginning to lighten. The sun had begun to rise and they were still far from the city. They had to get moving soon.

She released her hold on his armour, her fingers aching from the grip she’d had. The slight concern pulsed in her veins and overthrew anything else. “We need to leave ‘Starion.”

“Aw,” he complained and looked up at her with a wicked glint in his eyes. The one that she knew she’d do anything for. “You weren’t scared of some dirt the other night,” he purred. “Are you worried about the gnolls judging us?”

She laughed and he took the opportunity to kiss her again. She moaned into his mouth as he eased his way past her lips. How easy it was to lose herself in him. She could spend the rest of her life in his arms and be perfectly happy but to do that, she needed him to not burn into ash.

She broke the kiss with every ounce of her willpower. “The sun’s coming up.”

He turned to look over his shoulder and an immediate distaste darkened his expression. “Right,” he said. “Forgot that sunrises are one of those things I’m not allowed to see anymore.”

He stepped away and she desperately wanted to draw him back. The sudden change in his mood hurt her though she knew she wasn’t the cause.

“We can continue when we get back to the house, if you want?” she offered.

Astarion nodded dismissively but the energy had disappeared into the air with her words. She knew he’d be in a poor mood for at least the rest of the day and she really couldn’t blame him. He’d grown to love the sun over their adventures. It had very nearly changed her decision at the end of it all.

Sometimes she wondered if there had been a way to keep him safe. She worried she hadn’t looked hard enough for the solution.

They hurried to get back to the city. Every ray that crept over the horizon sent another stab of fear into her heart. This area was exposed and once the sun made its appearance, hiding would be a difficult thing.

She almost tripped over the gnoll bodies before she remembered to grab something from the caravan to prove she found it. Even then, she had to leave half her pack behind and hope the various bandits in the area had enough self-preservation not to go sniffing around a den.

She didn’t really trust them to have the intelligence though. She’d had to go find enough of them for their worried friends.

Even with their half-sprinting, they nearly ran out of time and a soft ray caught Astarion’s arm as he ducked through the door, causing him to hiss in pain before he vanished into their house.

She paused in the frame, her attention turned to the sun in half anger and half admiration.

Though she’d adapted to being nocturnal, she did miss the sun. Though she may wish it stayed away so she could spend more time with Astarion outside, she couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth it left on her skin.

Strange how she’d never even appreciated how different life would be without it until she had to make the decision to stay away. It had been her choice but it was his curse. She hated to imagine how much he must miss being around in the daylight hours.

She stepped inside the dark house and closed the door firmly behind her. A few of the wall candles had been lit for her and so she made her way to their small library where he’d settled on one of the loveseats, his arm raw and his attention on the blank book in front of him.

“I’m sorry I lost track of time,” she said though she knew it wasn’t her fault.

She gathered the balm she now kept scattered around the house and gently began to treat the parts of the skin that had been touched. Thankfully, it looked like it wouldn’t blister this time.

“I keep forgetting,” he admitted. “Never thought I would.”

“We’ll just need to be more careful next time. I’ll go visit the merchant later today and see if this is the right caravan. He better pay me well for this.”

She didn’t mean in gold. No, she often traded her services for information on their products and their sources.

Astarion traced the line of her jaw with his fingers, tilted her head toward him and brushed his lips against her own. “You’ve been looking a little weaker than usual,” he mused. “I can’t help but wonder if maybe you’re missing the sun. I hear it’s important for most.”

“I see the sun enough,” she said. “If I needed to be out there more, I’ll just wake up earlier but the city is far too boring without you there.”

“Flatterer,” he said with a laugh she didn’t quite like.

When Astarion laughed properly, the corners of his eyes crinkled in the best way possible. She loved to kiss him on those marks and so she noticed when he laughed without them.

“We’ll find a solution eventually,” she said firmly.

“Well, I can’t say I’m too enthralled by the idea,” he admitted, his tone cooler. “The last two opportunities I had to walk in the sunlight ended up destroyed forever.”

Her blood chilled at the implication and her smoothing of the balm over his arm paused. “Those weren’t options,” she said after the silence stretched too long. “Either one meant you’d be sacrificing something of yourself.”

“Apparently,” he said. “But we don’t really know what would have happened unless you’ve turned into a psychic while I wasn’t looking.”

She’d always thought he appreciated how against his ascension she’d been. Even not knowing much about vampires, she had the idea that that type of power didn’t come without cost. He’d have been giving up more than just his curse in order to walk in the sun.

“Astarion…”

“But it’s fine,” he said. “I still have my soul so that I can stay trapped up in another house for the rest of my life. Except this time, I get to keep somebody else captive with me. Fun.”

She frowned and slowly retracted her touch on his arm. “I’m not trapped,” she said. “I can leave whenever I want to. I’m choosing to be here with you.”

“You’re choosing to be with me,” Astarion said as though she didn’t understand. “But I don’t think you’re choosing to live without the sun. If we could choose right now to make it possible to live a normal life with me, would you take it?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “Because it seems to me that you aren’t willingly giving up your daylight, you’re sacrificing it.”

She crossed her arms. “Even if it was a sacrifice, it’s my choice.”

“It shouldn’t be. Daylight compliments you too much. You have no idea how beautiful you look when sunshine dapples your skin and flushes your cheeks.” He smiled at her and she winced, knowing he meant to charm. “When I see you in the sun, I know I’m looking upon beauty itself.”

She wouldn’t be distracted by the ceaseless flattery. Not when she knew what he was implying with it.

“If you’re feeling caged up, we can always travel,” she said. “I’ll organise for somebody to watch the house and we can start exploring further than the city’s reach.”

She’d been wanting to stay in one place for a short while to recover from the incident with the mindflayers. It had been somewhat long enough, she figured, that she should be able to head out without worries. A couple of weeks of travel might even do her some good.

The others had been keeping an eye out for any information but they were busy with their own lives. Though maybe one or two of them might be willing to join for an adventure or two.

“There’s no point,” he said. “Darling, let’s not keep pretending we’re going to find a solution we like. Power comes from sacrifice.”

“Not of your soul,” she said. “Or of your mind. There’s a way.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m sure of it.”

Astarion stared at her for so long that she felt he might be trying to read her mind as they once were able to. Part of her missed that. She’d liked being able to understand what he wanted easily, even when he tried to hide it.

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re so sure, we can pack after you’ve rested. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’ll send a letter to Wyll so long,” she said and got up. She met his beautiful eyes and tried not to melt into them. “But just so you know, I’ve always loved the moon far more than I ever did the sun.”

In some ways, she expected it. Part of her knew, even as she drifted off to sleep and he pressed a small kiss to the side of her head. She fell asleep with her hands knotted tightly in the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be enough to keep him there no matter what.

When she woke up in the evening with her heavy curtains pulled aside and a fresh breeze blowing in through the windows, she didn’t need to check to know she wouldn’t find him in the house.

She did anyway. Walked from room to room with a blanket over her shoulders and a sinking heart and when she returned to the bedroom, she moved his pillow to see if a dagger still lay under it.

And seeing it missing was the final thing before the tears started to fall.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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baby-tini · 2 months

Note

OG Timeline Mikey is secret F-buddies with Single mom reader and falls for her but doesn’t know she has kids until he sees her out with them one day x

Pls & Ty x

TW- small indication of murder, a hint of stalking Sorry this is a little rushed, I can do it over for you another time if you'd like.

The day you met Manjiro Sano, it was an accident, the man you were with, Yaku Akuma, had a debt to Toman, but more importantly, Manjiro Sano, himself. He never told you anything about the debt muchless the reason, it was for gambling, he had lost thousands of dollars in just slots alone, so he took out a loan from Toman with the promise too pay it back, but that obviously didn't happen. It had taken him days after the expectation date, for the money, for him too even tell you.

It had been at his apartment, it was a casual hang-out, late at night when there was a loud bang on the door and a man screaming through it. He had jumped off the couch in a panic, grabbing your hand and ushering you into the bedroom with a plead too stay quiet while he dealt with the situation. You could hear screaming from multiple different while you sat in the bedroom, hoping nothing bad happened as you sent a text to your nanny that was watching your son, briefing her on the situation and too make sure Haruto was safe. It was when you hid your phone that you heard multiple gunshots and a cease to the screaming, you had bit at your sleeve too stop the yelp that clawed at your throat in surprise.

It was quiet, for what felt like hours, before the bedroom door swung open and in walked a man with blonde, slicked back hair and the biggest black eyes you've ever seen. He stared at you for a while before approaching, a gun on his hip as you began too plead for you life, promising money if he just let you live, but he had ignored you, sitting on the bed, in front of you and asking for your relation to Yaku. When you explained, through tears, that he was just a casual acquaintance and there wasn't much relation between the two of you. The man looked unamused, like he didn't believe you but had told you too leave and go home, moving off the bed as you had vigorously nodded, exclaiming your appreciation through choked-out sentences.

It was two weeks after that when you saw him again, while working at a bar and tending to customers. Your co-worker had approached you with the plead of serving a few men in the VIP section, stating that she was too busy with familial problems and had too leave. You had locked eyes with the man when you sat a bottle of Clase Azul Reposado Tequila and Don Julio 1942 on the table. You had left as quickly as possible when you locked eyes with him, onyx stared you down and made you shift uncomfortably. Quickly brushing past the red satin curtains that concealed the room, you rushed outside too get fresh air, knocking past people as you spewed quick apologies.

Rapidly throwing open the back door of the club as you dig in your pocket for the Camel Blues you keep stashed for stressful times. The shaking of your hands making it harder too light but quickly sucking on the stick when you do. You find the first inhale of smoke refreshing and calming as your shoulders slump down slightly in relief. Your head leaning back against the cold brick wall as you breathe the smoke in the air. Only too be cruelly interrupted by the same man that had you shaking in the first place. Manjiro Sano, he stands proudly, head up and shoulders high as he stares you down, his eyes intrigued but mostly empty. His presence intimidating as you swallow and back up, a couple feet. He watches you, his eyes sharp as he steps closer, his heavy steps sounding heavy on damp pavement. He reaches for you, flinching away, you curl a little. He doesn't back down though, just proceeds to move his hand closer and brush away lose strands of your hair from your face. He took you to a hotel that night, with the promise too not kill you, claiming he just wanted a couple answered. With the knowledge that he could kill you and a kid too thing about at home, you got in the car. The drive there was silent, not awkward but silent. Excluding the occasional instructions to his driver. The hotel was nice, the rooms even nicer as you sat on the comfy linen bed, the pillows tucked into satin pillowcases. They wasn't much talking as he pushed you onto the bed, nipping at your neck as he took off his Chanel suit jacket. He had fucked you all over that room that night, fucking into you relentlessly as held one of your legs over his hips. His teeth making bruising marks on your throat as he kissed at the side of your face, sweat rolling down your temple. You had continued your escapades a countless of times in that hotel from then on. Meeting up too get drinks only for him too later on fuck you over the bathroom sink before dragging you over to the bed and fucking you on the edge. Your chest laying flat against the sheets as his hand held your held into the sheets, his free hand squeezing your hips as he fucked you stupid. The screaming of his name barley muffled by the sheets with how loud you were. He grew too care about you, he was around you so much, he couldn't really prevent the feeling of lust turning into adoration and love. He tried his best too spend as much time with as he could but he was a very busy man, so he had his men watch you. When he was alerted by one of his men that you were out and close by, he decided too end his meeting a little early as he had his driver take to him. He froze when he saw you with a child, no older then three, the kid was jumping around on the jungle gym, falling down the slide on his belly as you watched and played with the boy. Raising him up in your arms as you kissed his cheek in a multitude as the boy giggled and attempted too swat you awa. He decided from there on, in that car, he was gonna be a father, readying too take on the life as a father if it meant you'd be his. Forever.

#baby-tini #anon ask #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro #sano mikey manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro x you #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tokrev

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btsydtrash · 8 days

Text

Ego [9]

mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe

Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.

What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?

What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?

Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 1.8k

AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.

(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence / none )

trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!

“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”

The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.

You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”

And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.

It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.

They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.

The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.

Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.

You knew who it was.

He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.

You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head.

Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.

It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.

You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.

“YN…?”

Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.

He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”

You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.

No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”

Another sigh.

He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”

A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.

Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.

“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”

He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.

“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”

His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?

“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”

The thought alone makes you snort.

He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.

“You laughed, Pretty.”

You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.

“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”

You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.

He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”

Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Please, don’t cry.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.

“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”

You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.

////

Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”

Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”

Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?”

He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.

“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”

“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”

“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.

Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”

Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”

Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.

Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”

Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.

“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”

Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.

It just started getting good, too.

- end -

Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8), Nevertheless (9)

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year

Text

It genuinely keeps me up at night that when Van Eck attempts to reveal to the Merchant Council that Wylan can’t read, they all react exactly as Wylan feared they would. (Spoilers ahead!) Of course since they don’t believe him and Wylan’s brilliant memory for Jesper’s words protects him we don’t see the full force of their response, but it is made PAINFULLY clear that they all would have responded the same way Van Eck did - “How could you say such things about your own blood?”. It’s an incredibly meaningful and arguably subtle detail that Bardugo implements to remind the reader that although Van Eck was our main antagonist in this case, there is no singular villain in this story because what the characters are fighting is an ultimately unbeatable source. The system is impossible to truly defeat because it is a hydra, we see that when Dryden’s father died he took on the role of the Council and acted the exact same way he did, and if Van Eck had raised Wylan to one day take over from him then he too would have been forcibly moulded into that shape by the poisonous environment of this governing body. The defeat of Van Eck, had Kaz not amended his will to name Wylan his inheritor, would have been only that: the downfall of a singular man, to be easily replaced by another with the same dangerously capitalistic values and crude methods of implementing them. It would not have been any change in the system that oppresses the main characters - I think it’s kind of similar to the Hunger Games (spoilers ahead) when Katniss chooses to kill Coin instead of Snow because she realises that killing Snow doesn’t actually change the system if someone else will simply step into his shoes. We also see this reflected in Kaz and his mission to destroy Rollins, since by doing so he too has taken the actions Rollins did. When Inej points out their similarities he denies it, saying “I don’t sell girls, I don’t con helpless kids out of their money”. Inej replies with the gentle, HEARTBREAKING sentence: “Look at the floor of the Crow Club, Kaz”. And this is so important because Kaz has no consideration for what happens to those people once they step outside his door. How do they fair after he scams them? How many of them have had no other money to fall back on? Did one of them sell their daughter to be able to pay off their debts to him? He’d never know, he just had the money and that’s all he thinks about. But if that girl survived long enough to want revenge, who would she blame? Say she didn’t want to blame her parents, like Kaz doesn’t want to blame Jordie, then who becomes the manifestation of all her hatred, the one thing she has decided that destroying will cure her? Kaz does. Just as Rollins has for him.

Every system of this city is a hydra, and there are so many beautifully written reminders of this without forcing it down our throats, but there is also the hope of genuine, real change. In Wylan, joining the Merchant Council as someone opposed to its views, as someone who has lived in both sides of this city and been abused by both of them, as someone who understands that real change is hard to implement. In Inej, as she journeys against the system that abused her not for revenge, but for the protection of all the children who have been hurt and killed, of all the children being hurt and killed, and of all the children who would have been hurt and killed if she didn’t stop the slavers who sought them, as someone who knows that real change is action. In Jesper, as someone raised far from the suffocating closed-minded atmosphere of the Merchant Council and who can support Wylan through it, as someone who knows that striving for real change is messy and chaotic, but that it’s where he thrives. In Matthias, who died believing that the world could truly change, who died believing in Nina, believing in himself, and believing that his death was a necessary sacrifice to real change, even though he wanted it to be peaceful. In Nina, as someone who had learned that real change cannot always be won with violence, as someone who will learn to use her new power to restructure a civilisation, as someone who will spend the rest of her life striving for change because nothing could ever be worse than her beloved having died in vain. And in Kaz, in the small ways, in the fear of what he could become that will hold him back from becoming the next head of the hydra, in his love for Inej shifting his perception of the world, and in his slow journey of healing, maybe one day killing Rollins will be enough. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll burn the world down and start it all again.

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feyascorner · 8 months

Text

7 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “It’s too hard to see. We need to turn back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of darkness.”

You scrunch your nose at this, and he merely grins. Before you can say anything, he’s back to pacing across the dirt without a care in the world—almost too fast for your liking. “Will you at least slow down?”

“Shall I hold your hand?”

“I’d rather cut it off.”

“A pity.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.9k words !!! this chapter took forever but somehow i managed!! thank you so much for your kind words and patience !!! he's kind of a silly guy in the chapter so pls enjoy this peace offering as the calm before a storm

“Are you sure this is the right course of action? Letting him ascend?” Shadowheart asks as you adjust one of the logs in the campfire, watching the other companions organize their tents from afar. You stop at this, turning to face her.

“It’s what he wants,” you mumble. “I won’t stop him if he’s sure this is the right thing to do.”

You’re still getting used to her hair, which’s now as white as a sheet, but you think it looks lovely against the fire. She seems calmer than she did when she was with Shar. At peace, almost. She casts you a sidelong glance. “Can we really trust his judgment of all people? He’s—I mean, well, him.”

“I know it sounds unreasonable," you say letting yourself sit down beside her on her bedroll. “But I want him to make his own decisions. He’s spent too many years having no choice of his own, and I’d be the worst person to take it away from him again.”

“I just,” her voice softens. “Astarion’s a complicated person, and I’m sure you know better than us. It’s because he couldn’t make his own choices for so long that it makes me think he’s lost his capability to make any choices anymore. Good ones, at least.”

“I trust him.”

“Gods knows how.”

You stifle a laugh, and she sips at her wine, eyes still glazing over the camp. There’s a kind of solemnness to them that makes your stomach churn. “You seem worried.”

“Not worried, per se,” she shrugs. “I just realize that I owe a debt to you for what you did for me against my lad—I mean, Shar. And I myself almost went down that dark path of becoming a Justiciar if it weren’t for you. At the time, I thought it was the best thing for me too, like Astarion believes ascension to be what will set him free.”

You nod patiently, urging her to continue.

“I only fear he might make the wrong choice if he doesn’t have the right guidance as I did.”

The words feel hesitant on her tongue. And although they make the voice in the back of your head, telling you to convince Astarion otherwise, louder, you ignore it, opting to smile at her softly instead. “Is this you caring about our companions?”

“Heavens, no,” she snorts, but there’s a joking tone behind her voice. “But like I said…I’m indebted to you all. Astarion also aided in my personal affairs with Shar, even if he didn’t have to, and even with his incessant complaining…I suppose this is my way of paying him back.”

Your chest warms. It’s soothing to know that even without you, your other companions have enough care for your lover to offer him bits of advice; in a way, it relieves a bit of weight off your shoulders. Even the companions who claim to detest his presence have grown fond of him over the months, and you’re sure it goes both ways. It helps because even if you’re gone, you know he’ll be okay.

��I never told you formally,” she sighs. “But thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me or feel indebted. I just did what I could for you.”

“Don’t be so humble. What you’ve done for me—for all of us—is something we’ll cherish for the rest of our lives,” she takes her last swig from her wine. “But from one messed up person to another, please, be careful.”

Your wrist feels sore.

Two days. It’s been two days since the incident at the Blushing Mermaid, and still, your body seems to burn whenever you see his closed door across yours from the hall, and all you can do is rub shamefully at the healing puncture wounds on your wrist. The bandages looping around the skin do a good enough job of hiding them, but you genuinely wish you could just ask Shadowheart to heal them for you because being able to see them does little to help with the constant thoughts of the vampire muddling the clarity of your mind.

But you’d rather not let your companions know what happened between you and the vampire on the dirtied floors of the Blushing Mermaid. You’d likely die of shame for letting him drink from you, even after your mutual agreement to specifically avoid just that. What’s worse is that you expect the worst from Lae’zel, especially after her explicit advice to do the exact opposite of what you chose to do.

You tighten the bandages again.

“Did those yourself, did you?”Alfira snorts, and you almost have half a mind to glare at her if it weren’t for the crumpled sheets of paper surrounding the legs of her chair. The ink on the discarded pages now blends into mush as they lie in the puddles forming around her—an aftermath of the recent rainy weather. You don’t tell her, though. She seems frustrated enough as it is, and you fear she might snap a string of her lute if this prolongs any longer. “How’d you get hurt anyway?”

“It’s a bug bite.”

“A rather massive bug, apparently.”

The corners of your lips quirk downward, and she finally sets her lute aside, careful to avoid the puddles as she props it against the side of her stool to focus on her notepad instead. Though most of its pages have now been torn out, the remaining few have scribbles of song lyrics that even you can’t decipher with how messily the ink splatters across the page. She, however, seems perfectly fine reading its contents aside from her glaringly obvious distaste for the words themselves. You raise your brow. “Can you really read that?”

“Oh, hush. Don’t insult my penmanship.”

You snicker, eyes continuing to scan the sheets of paper that had been abandoned on Dalyria’s desk at the Blushing Mermaid. It’d taken quite some time to take apart the pages plastered on the wall and to organize the mountain of doctor’s notes lying across the lair, but you’d managed to fish out something useful eventually. The journal was one that seemed especially important, filled to the brim with Dalyria’s so-called ‘research.’

But if the past few days have told you anything, it’s that Dalyria is a terrible note-taker.

The pages are filled with shapes. Some are curved, and others just bend and contort into odd figures that you’re sure aren’t supposed to look like letters. Each page studies a different shape on a random part of the page, leaving them scattered and difficult to decipher.

You’re starting to think this is just some odd attempt at art rather than the studies she claims to be performing.

“And? Why are you here if you’re not here to look at those lyrics I gave you?”

“I’m trying to figure out what this journal says,” you sigh, flipping another page you don’t understand. “And if you couldn’t tell, I’m rather busy trying to find the people responsible for murders around the city, so excuse me if I haven’t had the time to glance at your song.”

“I’m plenty busy myself, you know! I just got hired to sing at this fancy party for some celebration. They even said I could dress all nice for it,” she smiles proudly, and you offer her a crooked one of your own. “It’s my first serious gig—so I’m a bit nervous with how large it is…”

“How’d you land something like that before you’ve even played at children’s birthday parties?”

“Well, I’m not doing it alone, obviously,” she reasons, scratching something on her pages again. “I’m going with one of my friends. She’s a wonderful violinist, and she managed to squeeze me into the event, which I’m so grateful for…I suppose I’m just a bit worried.”

You look up from Dalyria’s notebook. “Worried? What for?”

“That my fingers will lock up, and I’ll humiliate myself,” she admits sheepishly, tucking a portion of her hair behind her sharp ear. “Lihala used to call me silly for worrying about things that haven’t happened–but I can’t help it. It’s the before-show jitters. Pesky things. It’s a bit embarrassing, really.”

Humming in acknowledgment, you look to the murky skies overhead, where dark clouds threaten to pour down for at least another few days. A shame, you think. You’ve never seen the Summers of Baldur’s Gate feel so dreary.

It’s fitting, almost, considering the state that the city is in.

The painful sound of quill scratching against paper is all you can hear now as Alfira sighs irritably again, ripping out another sheet of paper.

“It’s not embarrassing,” you finally say.

She blinks up from her notepad. “What is?”

“Being nervous. I’ve done more performances than I can count, and my hands would still get clammy in front of a big crowd,” you laugh to yourself. “But when you see how they watch you as if you’re performing sorcery with your lute, it’s like you were never anxious in the first place. The audience is what makes it bearable.”

“Gods, I hope you’re right,” she smiles fondly as you continue to reminisce in your own memories. “It’s a rather shame we never got to perform together. Not after the last time we played at the Grove–and I don’t even count that occasion with how unstable my voice was…”

“I can watch if you’d like,” you offer. “Your performance, I mean.”

Her eyes gleam with excitement, and she reaches to clasp both your hands, beaming brightly. “Will you? I’m sure if you’re there, it’ll ease my nerves, too!-”

As you shift in your seat to follow your hands, Dalyria’s notebook slips off your lap. The simple splash beneath you tells you all you need to know as your eyes shoot down to where the notebook now lies face down into a puddle, and you don’t even have to lift it to know that its pages are soaked.

But you don’t have to pick it up yourself because Alfira’s carefully holding it in an instant, her face pale as she fans her hand in a fruitless attempt to prevent the damage already done. “Dammit, I’ve done it again! I’m truly sorry…I didn’t mean for that to happen! But I’m sure if we just put it in the sunlight for a few days, it’ll–”

You gently take it from her hands, shaking your head. Perhaps it’s because you were just deep into memories you hold dear to your heart, but there isn’t an ounce of panic in your voice. “It’s fine. I wasn’t getting anywhere with this thing anyway.”

“Still…”

The pages stick together in chunks as you flip the journal towards the pages that are at least half dry. You fear they might tear off at the slightest touch, so all you can do is stare at a page you deem to be soaking up the ink from the pages behind it. Alfira groans into her hands, and before you can spare her a glance to remind her it’s alright, you spot something in the middle of the page.

“Holy shit,” you whisper so quietly she doesn’t catch it.

“I’ll grab us a wind scroll. Or maybe that’s too strong? Surely there’s some spell that can dry off books.”

“You have no idea what you’ve just done for me, Alfira,” you blurt, already halfway to stuffing the journal into your pack. She blinks up at you with weary eyes, but you quickly clamber off the stool with no time to offer an explanation. “Let me know when the performance is. I’ll be here next week as usual.”

“Don’t you want me to dry off the pages?”

“No,” you shake your head, your heart pounding. “I need to show this to the others.”

She stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. Still, as you rush toward the stairs leading to the city streets, she calls after you.

“Don’t forget to look at the lyrics!”

“Runes? As in the ones carved into Astarion’s back?”

“I thought they were random blots of ink, but,” you raise the notebook in your hands, and the soaked pages now show the contents of the following sheets, blending to form a larger image. The placement of the shapes were not random at all, and you internally apologize for calling Dalyria a few less-than-kind words in your mind. “They’re not. They’re parts of the runes that Cazador tried to use for the ritual. There are six sets of runes in here, and each one’s slightly altered.”

“But what purpose does that serve?” Shadowheart cocks a brow, eyeing the page questionably with crossed arms. “Cazador’s dead. There’s no ascension to be done.”

“Unfortunately, just because that haunting man is gone doesn’t mean the threat of an ascension is either.” Intrigued but clearly disturbed, Gale takes the notebook and squints at what it holds. “Cazador himself never needed to be the one to execute the ascension.”

The room goes silent, leaving an uncomfortable tension in the air that keeps you from moving. You’re not sure how many seconds pass before you hear the figure who’s been awfully quiet the past half an hour mutter something under his breath from the comfy armchair beside the fireplace.

Astarion clicks his tongue, seemingly unfazed. “Ah, I see.”

The fists at your side clench tighter. The bandages feel impossibly tight all of a sudden.

“It’s for the ascension, clearly. There’s no other plausible explanation,” his eyes remain glued to the flickering flames, swirling a chalice of wine in his hand. He doesn’t sip from it, knowing that it tastes of nothing but vinegar on his undead tongue, so why he’s poured himself a glass, you don’t understand. You also can’t be bothered to ask. “Perhaps they plan to enact it. Take a piece of all that power for themselves.”

“But they can’t do the ascension,” Shadowheart frowns, turning to you. “You said there’s only six runes in there. They don’t have the last one to enact the ascension because Astarion’s with us. Cazador’s the only one who could have done it because he’s the only one who knows what each of the runes looks like. Without Astarion’s, they can’t—”

“They wanted him,” you whisper the confession, and you swear your voice nearly cracks. “They wanted Astarion. That’s why they wanted to speak with me.”

All three of your companions whip their heads to you, and you stare down at the ground. Shame burns through you, and you can practically feel the disappointment radiating off them as it dawns on you that you lied to them. You lied to your closest companions for the sake of saving yourself the embarrassment that no matter what you do, no matter what you tell yourself, your subconscious forces you to care for the bloody vampire sitting beside the fireplace. Despite the many eyes on you, you can only feel one crimson pair that bore into you like the sun beating down on a hot summer’s day.

Even now, he’s your biggest concern, and you hate yourself for it.

“Then it’s not Astarion they need,” Gale says breathlessly. “They need the marks on his back.”

“And you didn’t tell us this, why?” Shadowheart hisses. “You said they just tried to kill you!”

You blurt. “They did! They said they’d stop killing citizens if I just tossed Astarion over to them, but when I said no, they completely flipped and–”

“You declined that deal?” Lae’zel snarls, and you unwillingly flinch at the venom in her tone. “You swore, istik. You swore you wouldn't be foolish if it came down to you or him.”

The words feel like a knife to your throat.

“Well, obviously, it worked out,” you grumble, ignoring how Lae’zel’s eyes are narrowed dangerously. No doubt, she has questions of her own that she’ll demand answers to later. “If I handed him over, they would’ve had the last key to conducting the ascension.”

“You still lied to us,” Shadowheart steps toward you, but Gale quickly clears his throat.

“I know how deceived we all feel, but must we fight? What matters is the spawns can’t conduct the ascension as of now, correct?” he attempts to calm her down, but her scowl only grows deeper. “As disappointed as we all are, we must admit that keeping Astarion here is the right decision.”

“You’re too hasty, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “A vampire’s ascension would mean ridding of all the other spawn wreaking havoc in the city. We mustn’t throw away a chance being offered without considering it.”

Shadowheart is immediately on her feet, her eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t be an idiot–a few thousand spawn is better than a nearly impenetrable being capable of creating even more spawn. That’s asking for just as bad as we are now–maybe even worse.”

They break into a simultaneous debate, one in which two room occupants do not take part. Because even as you try to focus on what the others are saying, all you can feel is the unsettling stare of the spawn in the corner of the room, his hand still swirling the wine. You wonder if his wrist ever gets tired. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of returning his stare, but you watch him from the corner of your eye as his attention shifts to your wrist.

“Are we even sure this is what they’re planning? Do a few drawings prove that they want to go through with this ritual, again, after what it nearly did to them?” Shadowheart’s attention darts to you. “This ritual would kill them. Why in the hells would all of them agree to do it if it only means one would come out alive?”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out in return. The hurt embedded into her expression is so glaringly apparent that it makes your chest squeeze uncomfortably, and all you can do is look away in shame. “...I don’t know.”

Her face hardens. “Do you? Or are you just lying to us again?”

Cheeks flaring, you shake your head. “I’m not lying, I swear it.”

Her eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize before they flit to your bandaged arm and then back to your eyes. She doesn’t miss how you try to move your arm behind you. A miscalculation on your part since your attempt at hiding it makes your secret that much more obvious. “Then what are those for? You’ve had them on since you returned from the Blushing Mermaid, and you refuse to let me heal you myself. Just what did you get injured from?”

The room is so silent you can hear your own heartbeat.

“I–” you stop, wavering. “There was a—”

Shadowheart clenches her jaw. “Don’t lie. Please.”

But still, no words are willing to leave your throat.

Your companions await words from you that do not exist. Like a deer in headlights, you stand numbly, unsure what to do. Fortunately, and also unfortunately, before long, Lae’zel has had enough of waiting, and she begins to march toward you in a way that makes you step away.

“Give me your arm,” she demands. “If you cannot say, then show us.”

You can feel all the blood draining from your face as she draws closer. But even Gale cannot hinder her this time because everyone in the room knows what she’s capable of with that blade attached to her hip, and she’s not against wasting a few potions of healing if she has to barrel her way through. You brace yourself for the inevitable, teeth gritting together.

Just as she reaches for your arm, someone else snatches it away.

“I drank from them,” Astarion says as you bump slightly into his chest, eyes wide at his pale fingers wrapped around your wrist. He yanks the edge of the bandage down with his free hand and lifts it for the others to see. The two puncture wounds, where the skin that surrounds it is darker than the rest, make you feel naked under the eyes of others. It’s too vulnerable. Too mortifying.

Your heart hammers pathetically, and whether it’s from the expressions of your companions or the hand wrapped around the sensitive skin of your wrist, you’re not sure. You hope it’s not the latter.

Gale’s jaw drops. “We agreed that this was the one thing you wouldn’t do.”

“If I hadn’t, I would’ve perished,” the vampire retorts in response, releasing his hold on your arm as it falls back to your side. The place where his hand had been tinges under your skin. “And there weren’t exactly a few boars lying around the damn city for me to feed on.”

You notice he fails to mention there had been more than enough bodies to satiate him, but you keep your mouth shut.

The hurt on Shadowheart’s face is no longer one that throbs your sympathy. Instead, she seems to burn with something you haven’t seen in ages.

Anger.

Her palm flickers with radiant light, and Astarion immediately flinches, hissing as he moves to hide his body behind yours. In your haste, you can’t think of anything to do besides stepping toward her, holding out your hands. Astarion releases a strained laugh from behind you. “Now, Shadowheart, let’s not do anything hilarious, shall we?”

“I’ll kill you,” she growls maliciously, the glow of her palm growing brighter. “Like I should have done the second you came back to ruin everything we’ve done without you.”

You cautiously approach her, focus never leaving her eyes despite the danger festering in her hands. “You shouldn’t, Shadowheart.”

She throws daggers in your direction with just her expression, and you can’t deny how helpless you feel. “Killing him would end all of this. If we buried him somewhere, they’d never find the runes. They’d never be able to follow through with the ascension, and we won’t have to deal with his pompous ass anymore.”

You hate that she’s right. You hate that even though she’s right, you can’t agree with her methods.

“I know he’s—not exactly a friend—but he was once. And I know you considered him one as well,” you insist, inching closer. The hesitance in her motions as you come too close to the radiant light is undeniable. “I don’t want you to bear the guilt of his death.”

Because as much as you’re wrapped up in a world of your own–a world where you fight to hate the man behind you–you know that your companions feel the same way. The sentiments gathered from months of sharing the same camp, months of saving one another from multiple deaths, and months of aiding one another overcome their own pasts don’t just disappear. You know what they shared. Being the most similar amongst your companions, forced under the influence of a power they did not want to be subjected to, you know they considered themselves friends, even if they never voiced it out loud.

You know that deep down, Shadowheart’s hatred for Astarion stems from her own feeling of betrayal when he tried to kill you. When he attempted to harm the only other person who guided her to a path outside of Shar.

“Trust me, I won’t feel guilty,” she finally forces out. “You’re a fool to trust him again.”

“I don’t trust him,” you reassure her, your hands finally reaching hers as they dim and eventually vanish all traces of magic. “But if he’s to die for nearly killing me, I want it to be under my hands. Don’t sully your own for my sake when you’ve just escaped all the bloodshed.”

Shadowheart’s brows soften, but her face turns cold. Thoughts seem to run through her mind like an endless train before she decides that thinking through each one is worth more than Astarion himself is worth. She inhales deeply and nods, allowing you to finally release her hands. She shoots the others one last glance before turning to retreat upstairs.

You’re left in a pitiful silence—one that nobody in the room dares to break.

An entire day is spent with you wallowing in your shame, refusing to get out of bed.

You hope this is just a terrible nightmare, but you know better. If this were a nightmare, you’d already be dead.

You only climb out of your covers when you have to change the bandages on your wrist. It’s a painful process now since you don’t even want to look at the puncture wounds anymore, but it’s better than risking it to get infected. A knock on your door makes you stand from your bed, kicking the bandage rolls under your bed. “It’s open.”

You expect Gale or even Lae’zel, but you’re met with piercing red eyes. You contemplate begging him to leave you alone because looking at him right now only conjures up the guilt that’s been eating away at you for hours now. Instead, you build that wall between the two of you again, your face hardening. “What do you want?”

He’s never come to you willingly before. Not unless you were positively drenched in blood, and he had no choice but to follow his instincts for what he hopes to be a meal other than stale boar blood. Much less approached you in your own room.

Astarion lifts the empty glass bottle in his hand. “A charming welcome, as usual, I see.”

“You just had a full supply yesterday,” you say, brows furrowing. “I checked it myself.”

“Clearly, now I don’t,” he shrugs, and when you shoot him an intense glare, he frowns. “You can’t possibly blame me. I haven’t exerted myself as I did at that dirty tavern since the last time I had that damn parasite swimming around my head. So, unless you decide to offer yourself to me, again…”

You think he’s genuinely lost his mind. “Right now? Seriously? After what just happened yesterday, you want to ask me for blood?”

“Just a suggestion, darling. Otherwise, we always have the other option, as boring as it is.”

Perhaps you should just toss him to Lae’zel and call it a day.

Groaning in exasperation, you march past him, slapping a cloak into his chest. “There’s 15 minutes to sunset.”

He laughs, but it only makes your face turn sour.

The forest isn’t far off from the main square of Rivington. And by the time you reach it, the sun has long gone down, and you watch as Astarion takes off the hood of his cloak, breathing deeply in the moon's bask. And as he glances back at you, you don’t bother trying to walk side by side, remaining on guard and surveying his every move from three steps behind. He comments on it even though you think he doesn’t care for what you do. “I don’t bite, you know.”

“You’re not funny.” He snorts at your deadpan and continues into the deeper parts of the forest.

The entire time, your eyes remained glued to the backs of his heels, palms growing increasingly clammy as you become surrounded by nothing but the soft ambiance of the woods. His steps are as silent as they’ve always been, and it feels like following a ghost into the darkest parts of the forest. It’s becoming hard to see more than a few feet in front of you, and if your training with Lae’zel has taught you anything, you know that you don’t want to be at a disadvantage—especially when the other party is a bloody vampire.

You halt in your tracks. He does, too, turning to shoot you a questioning look. “What is it?”

“It’s too hard to see. We need to turn back.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little bit of darkness.”

“Shall I hold your hand?”

“I’d rather cut it off.”

“A pity.”

You curse his long legs as the forest becomes darker and darker, even as each time you think it can’t possibly get worse than this. You swear his steps become quicker, and a part of you wonders if this is where he attempts to run away and whether you should cast a sleep spell before he succeeds. But the most rational part of you reminds yourself that he’s had plenty of chances to escape. Hells, he could do it even now, considering how much more easily his eyes adjust to the darkness than you.

“Astarion, I swear to the Gods above, if you don’t stop walking so quickly…”

This time, you don’t get an answer.

Suspicions rising, you break into a jog and then into a gradual sprint. Every time you think you finally caught up to him, a branch whips into your face, and you barely manage to swat it away before it manages to cut your skin. You call his name a few times to no avail, and you genuinely begin to ponder if you should’ve brought your scroll for daylight.

Finally, you stumble through a tall berry bush into what you assume to be another branch.

And rather than more darkness, you’re met with a clearing. It’s only a few long strides in width and a couple more in length, but here, it doesn’t seem like nighttime at all. The moon peers down at you in all its glory, and you think this might’ve been Selune’s pocket of the forest if she were here. You blink wide when a speck of light—a firefly—flies barely past your face. And suddenly, you’re surrounded by light rising from the green grass beneath you in fragile wings.

The tightness in your chest dissipates, if only for a moment.

Only once you’ve taken in the vast difference of your surroundings just a few moments prior do you see Astarion pulling off the clasp of his cloak. He tosses it to you, and it lands on your face before you yank it away with a scowl. “You could have just handed it to me–”

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll return when I’ve finished hunting.”

You gawk at him. “I’m not going to let you just leave.”

“I’ve proven myself plenty,” he scoffs. “If I remember correctly, you would’ve likely perished were I not there at that tavern a few days ago. And I must remind you that I do have quite the memory. If I planned on betraying you, I would’ve done it then—at a more fashionable time.”

You don’t have much of a rebuttal to that.

While you could bring up the dozens of other times he’s made questionable decisions pertaining to his loyalty, the soothing bath under the moon’s gaze seems to calm you down. So, instead of fighting the internal urge to continue your petty quips, you drop the cloak beneath you. He cocks a brow, surely expecting more of a protest, but you just swallow your pride, plopping down on the grass with a huff. “If you don’t return in 30 minutes, I’m coming to find you.”

“40 minutes,” he tries. “30 minutes isn’t nearly enough time for anything fun.”

You scowl. “20 minutes.”

Astarion smiles wickedly just enough for his fangs to peek beneath his top lip. “Very well. I’ll expect you no later than that.”

And like a predator fading into his natural environment, he vanishes into the darkness.

Time passes slowly when all you can do is pick at pieces of grass. As beautiful as the clearing is, it’s a bit too soothing—enough to make you doze off as you lean against the trunk of a tree. Though you attempt to keep your eyes open, reminding yourself you have a responsibility to uphold, you haven’t had this sense of relaxation in ages. Especially now, in your home with an atmosphere thicker than the butter you use on your bread. It’s almost like a spell as you feel your heavy eyelids droop helplessly.

You pray you don’t dream tonight. Not when you know all you’ll think of is the betrayal you inflicted on your companions.

A rustle of leaves snaps you back awake.

And when you look up, you see two blood-red eyes staring down at you from the branches of the tree opposite of yours.

They look exactly like the spawn in the alleyway, practically a month ago now. The same ones that haunt your nightmares and the same ones that morph into your ex-lover in the ones you despise the most. And while you can’t see their face, you don’t need much more than that to break into action.

Immediately, you’re snatching the cloak and sprinting back into the forest's darkness. You don’t care about the branches flinging themselves at you anymore because you can barely breathe even without worrying about them. Twigs and thin branches flail across your cheeks as you practically barrel through the woods, your legs feeling like they could give up if you were ever to stop running. With only the cloak in one hand and a dagger in the other, you don’t even attempt to fight whoever this person is upfront–you learned your lesson well the last time you tried. So, instead, your boots crunch against whatever plants are being crushed beneath you as you frantically run from the creature chasing you.

The worst part is you can still hear leaves rustling behind you.

Your lungs hurt. Your head hurts. Everything hurts, and yet you cannot stop. You hope the forest itself swallows you whole at this point, especially as you hear the movements getting closer and closer.

Tripping over a particularly large root, you fall through a bush, bracing for impact as you curse everyone you can think of for your luck. But rather than your shoulder crashing into a pile of dirt and twigs, you plant face-first into what feels like…cloth?

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? If you wanted to touch me, you could have just asked,” Astarion teases and you instantly tear yourself away, pushing your palms against his chest with wide eyes. And as much as you hate to admit it, a flood of relief hits you. And as much as it shouldn’t, meeting his gaze makes you able to breathe again.

Gods, what is wrong with you?

“There’s something chasing me,” you say hurriedly, pointing in the direction behind you. “I think it’s another spawn, I saw his eyes–”

His face stills when you practically jump at the bushes moving in ways the wind cannot will it to. Your arm flies to push him in front of you in case something were to leap out, and while you’re sure he’d complain dramatically about this gesture on any other occasion, he’s too busy worrying about what lies behind the bush. His hand shoots to what you assume to be that blasted comb he takes everywhere while you grip your knife, and you hear both your breaths hitch when something lunges out of the shrub.

It’s a small, puny squirrel.

Astarion doesn’t even try to stifle the laugh that escapes him as he throws his head back.

“I swear there was something following me!” you hiss, slapping his arm while the squirrel scurries away back to wherever it came from. He doesn’t stop, having little care about how your face flushes with embarrassment, and instead seems to revel in it. The bastard is enjoying this.

You wish you could throw the damn squirrel at his head.

“Oh, yes, I do believe there was,” he’s barely fazed while you continue glaring daggers at him. “I’m impressed you survived an encounter with such a terrifying foe, my dear.”

“It was definitely following me...” your voice trails off, and the bloodlust that had overwhelmed your lungs is fading away, leaving nothing but the sound of Astarion and his annoyingly loud laughter.

He stops when there’s a shrill scream from across the forest. One that wails in what is unmistakenly of excruciating pain.

The two of you slowly turn to one another, and a knowing gleam flashes behind his eyes.

“Darling, the smart decision here would be to leave–”

But you’re already rushing toward whoever this victim is, forcing him to groan loudly and trail after you, snatching up your cloak from the ground in the process. You feel him close behind as you practically fly through the forest, with little care of how exhausted you were just moments before as the screams of pain seem to fuel your determination to lend aid.

Astarion, although displeased, only grumbles as he continues to follow your lead. “Is it necessary to be heroic now of all times? In a dark forest where there’s sure to be animals twice our size?”

You ignore him.

A leaf slaps into your face as you finally reach what’s now been reduced to soft sobs. And you’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t someone you knew.

“Berry?” you blink at the small girl, who you’re sure can barely even see you with how teary her eyes are. She watches you wearily before she gasps in recognition, and it’s then that you realize that her arm is bleeding.

“Tav!”

“You’re hurt,” you’re kneeling beside her in an instant, assessing her wounds as you reach to dig around your pockets in hopes of any medical supplies you might’ve left in there. “Did something attack you?”

“Yes,” she winces as you lift her arm to inspect it closer. “I’m not sure what it was, but it came out of nowhere, and they—-they tried to bite me.”

A lump forms in your throat. As twisted as it is, you're relieved you weren't actually imagining what you saw earlier. “Did you see if they had fangs? Did they look like a regular person?”

“I think so,” she replies in a hushed voice, wiping her tears. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do when it–”

A hand grabs her by the back of her cloak, yanking her in the air with her legs dangling helplessly as Astarion holds her just high enough to render attempts to kick at him useless. “I’d normally entertain tasteless tricks like this, but I’m in a less than forgiving mood, I’m afraid. You’ve cut into the time I have to fill my own stomach.”

You gasp, jumping to your feet. “Astarion, what the actual hells are you doing?”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later, darling,” he sneers at the girl, hissing at him aimlessly. “Show them, you little imp.”

Having no idea what’s going on, you decide the best thing to do is de-escalate whatever misunderstanding he’s had about the poor girl tied to his hand. “You’ll hurt her. Just let her go and explain what’s going on.”

“Show them,” he pronounces each word harshly, glaring at Berry.

And finally, she tries to bite at his hand. This prompts her to unhinge her jaw just enough for you to see the glint of sharp teeth. Ones that do not certainly belong to an innocent orphan.

Were you always this unlucky, or was the past month just a living hell for you?

“See what I mean? You can offer your thanks to me later, darling,” Astarion smiles proudly, and if you knew him any less than you did, you’d think he’s psychotic for smiling like that in this situation. But then, again, maybe he is. “How you seem to attract so many of us is beyond me, but I believe we should refrain from keeping this one alive.”

Your jaw drops. As much as you feel appalled that the innocent girl you’ve been soothing over the death of her adoptive father for the past few weeks turned out to be one of the very creatures that nearly took your life (on multiple occasions), you can’t fathom the idea of just ridding of her. She’s still a kid—at least, to the naked eye. “Are you insane? No, we’re not killing her!”

“Gods, please don’t tell me you’ll try and make this brat see sense. She’s practically feral! Look at her!” he grits through his teeth, waving his free hand to the girl in question, who’s too busy trying to snap her teeth at him. “This thing doesn’t deserve your sympathy right now.”

Berry manages to catch the tip of his finger in her teeth, and Astarion lets out a string of curses as he drops her to the dirt. It doesn’t even take another second for her to lunge toward you, fangs bared and claws ready to sink into your flesh. You barely manage to swerve out of the way, her sharp nail grazing past your cheek.

“Berry, just listen to me! I don’t want to hurt you!” you practically yell, but she only stumbles on the ground a moment before rushing at you again. You reach for your dagger, fearing you may have to use it on a child until she’s snatched into the air again.

This time, Astarion hangs her by the cloak onto a tree branch, where she screams and grasps at the air, practically throwing a tantrum.

You gawk in utter disbelief; too many things are happening simultaneously.

And Astarion doesn’t help as he slips out the damn comb again, grinning from ear to ear. You notice that this time, he seems to have taken the time to sharpen the tips of the teeth, which nearly look akin to a row of needles.

He holds the comb in Berry’s direction. “Well? Shall I do the honors?”

As you watch him threaten a child who also happens to be a vampire, you ponder that maybe you should have just handed him over to Dalyria when you had the chance.

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@bitterrenegade@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom@iamlowkeycrying@deezus-roy@spiritraves@mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc@whisperingwillowxox@bdudette@misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @deezus-roy @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @bitterbeanren @aelieknox Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added! I needed to redo the entire taglist because it wasn't functioning, so please let me know if I missed you :)

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff #shadowheart #astarion x you #astarion x oc

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 1 year

Note

I just found your account, and I love your writing especially the ones with Geto!! (I love that man!!)I do apologize for asking but do think you would ever write more of chubby reader Geto? Especially the one where chubby darling is trying to make herself useful in his temple? I love that one especially!

I actually wanted to write a fic for that prompt for a LONG time but i never found the strength to finish it, so allow me to expand upon chubby reader who works in Geto's temple 💕

CW: chubby fem reader, non-sorcerer reader, Geto refers to reader as a "monkey" once, allusion to suicide, bullying, the twins are around 10-12 yrs old, smut (mostly implied)

───────────────

Let's start by saying that you're nothing special. You are not the type of girl that Geto would see himself with. It would take a miracle for him to fall for someone like you.

And yet, miracles happen every day, don't they?

Your family has acquired some debt. They have been paying Geto to exorcise curses for them, and he has always delivered, but they have run low on funds and there's still a nasty curse to take care of. They beg and plead with him to remove it, but he refuses to lift a finger until they bring him a hefty donation again.

That's where you come in.

You can't see or sense curses, but you've felt their effects, dealing with the repurcussions of your family's awful attitude. This latest curse is the worst of them all, feeding off of every negative thing your family spews, weighing you down with their toxic energy. You'd do anything to get rid of it, to finally know peace again.

So you offer a trade. You promise to provide your services to the sorceror if he exorcises this curse for you and your family.

Geto ponders this deal for a while. He believes that monkeys are only good for providing curses or money, so he doesn't see the appeal of you at first. But then he remembers that he recently disposed of his maid because the twins disliked her, so he decides to make the deal. He will dispose of the curse if you act as his maid, cooking, cleaning, the works.

You have no other choice, so you accept.

The work itself isn't hard. Dusting, sweeping, mopping, polishing. You cook breakfast and dinner, lunch if requested. You're starting to get callouses from the work, but that's the least of your worries.

The twins hate you. You don't expect them to like a non-sorcerer like you, but they're cruel without reason. They tip over your mop bucket and run off laughing, they leave worms in your bed, they once took scissors to your hair and cut a piece off. They are awful, but you know you can't fight back. You have to take the high road, be the bigger person, endure their hatred so you can get by. If you step out of line, Geto will kill you without hesitation, you know this for a fact. So, you don't fight back. You show no reaction. You pray they get bored of you before you jump off the roof of the temple. At least then you would find peace.

The girls get into a fight one day. Nanako ripped Mimiko's doll as payback and now the both of them are sobbing and yelling at each other. You think it's karma for how they've treated you.

And yet, you take the high road once more.

You separate the girls first, sending Mimi to the kitchen and Nana to the living room. You quietly sew and mend Mimiko's doll, eyes watching you as you did so. Once the doll was fixed, you coaxed Nanako to take the doll to her sister and apologize. Surprisingly, she did so, and the girls hugged. They went on their merry way, not hurling insults at you for once. You go back to your chores.

The girls ask, no, demand lunch a few days later. You comply, making onigiri and cutting fruit into fun shapes, adding a cookie for dessert. The girls coo about the hearts and stars on their plates before digging in. They take their plates to the sink when they're finished and linger for a moment, staring at you. You ask what's wrong, but they scamper off before you can get an answer. You wash the dishes in silence.

Nanako falls and scrapes her knee on a rock. The other workers are shocked still, terrified of what Geto will do now that one of his precious girls has been injured, but you don't fret. You take action, bringing the young girl inside, grabbing a first aid kit, tending to her small wound. You clean it, apply a bandage. She requests a kiss to make it better, so you comply, pressing your lips gently against the bandage. She seems satisfied, getting up and running off with her sister again, throwing back a "thank you" as she does. You're surprised at her gratitude, but you think little of it.

You become a beacon of sorts. The other workers saw how well you handled Nanako's wound, and now they come to you whenever they don't know how to handle the twins. The girls are fighting? You are retrieved to break it up. They want lunch? You're always the one who makes it. They're getting ready for bed? You are now the one who ensures they brush their teeth, tucking them into bed before Geto bids them goodnight. You don't think much of your new role, chalking it up to just being a new part of your job that you have to take care of.

It's not until they call you "Mom" that you look at your role differently.

Mimiko calls you "Mom" first, after she finishes her lunch and puts her plate in the sink.

"Mom, I want a cookie."

You pause, frozen, processing what she said.

"Um... what do you say when you want something?" The young girl rolls her eyes.

"May I please have a cookie?" You smile softly at her compliance.

"Yes, you may." You take down the cookie jar, pulling out two and handing them to Mimiko. "Take one to your sister."

"Okay!" And she's off, leaving you to think about your new label.

Later that night, when you're tucking the girls into bed...

"Goodnight, Mom," Mimiko mumbles from below her sheets. You pause at the door, hand on the handle.

"Night, Mom," Nanako speaks up, hiding her face with her comforter. You swallow, inhaling deep.

"Goodnight, girls. Sleep tight."

You hesitantly close the door, hearing it click softly. You sigh, turning around, running into someone.

It was Geto. He stared down at you silently, eyes boring into you. You quickly bowed, moving out of his way, gaze glued to the floor. He watches you for a moment before grabbing the door handle, pushing the door open. You hear the girls chirp with delight as the door closes. Once it clicks shut, you bolt out of there, not looking back.

You become a maternal figure for the girls, someone they look up to, someone they rely on. You take care of them daily, tending to their every whim, scolding them gently when needed. The girls begin to follow you, insisting that you play with them, that you give them time and attention. Other people start taking on your chores so that you can entertain the twins and keep the peace.

At the same time, Geto starts to notice you more.

He notices how the girls light up when they talk about you, how they ask for you at night to read another chapter in their book, how they cling to you whenever they have a free moment. He thinks it's silly for them to enjoy the presence of a non-sorcerer such as yourself. Of all the people to become attached to, why you? There were plenty of socerer women that wandered these halls, so why did they choose you? What was so special about you?

It bothers him for a bit, but ultimately he's just happy that his girls are happy. He even began to appreciate your presence, your maternal instincts allowing you to care for the twins better than anyone else could. He came to value having you around to give his girls the love and attention they lacked when they were so young.

But there were other perks to having you around. Geto found himself delighted whenever you smiled, silently hoping you could direct that smile towards him. He began speaking with you casually, enjoying the sound of your voice more and more with each conversation. And you were attractive, to say the least, bright and lovely. He savoured being able to see a pretty thing like you so often, your round cheeks, your glittering eyes, your delicate hands, your bountiful hips. His mind began to wander to your body during his little meetings, wondering how soft you were under that cheap, coarse uniform. He imagined how your thighs would squish as you sat or kneeled before him, gazing up at him, willing to take whatever he would give you.

That's when he started fantasizing about you in earnest. He started thinking about you late at night, about your plump frame and how it would feel under his fingers. He thought about your thighs warming the sides of his face, your ass bouncing as he thrust into your, your mouth forming a perfect 'O' as you came over and over again. He thought of all of this as his hand trailed down his body, wrapping around his cock and tugging it, groaning at the sensation. You'd be so much better than his hand, soft and warm and wet. He wanted to feel you, to brace you against him, make you all his. God, what he'd give for just a taste of you.

He does this for a while. He doesn't know how much longer he can go. Maybe he'll make you his personal maid, have you draw him a bath, make you massage his scalp as he soaks. Maybe he'll be forward and tell you exactly what he wants. Maybe he'll force you into his bed; people will do anything if they're threatened properly. Maybe he'll woo you with gifts, perhaps a few dresses, maybe even a kimono, something traditional to match him. He's not sure, there's so many options, he can't decide.

The girls want to go to an aquarium. They want you to come along.

Maybe he could court you properly.

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#ask #smut #geto suguru #chubby reader #fem reader #chubby fem reader #☀️ asks #geto suguru x reader #geto maid au

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jinkiezzsstuff · 5 months

Note

TYSM FOR THE LADY GAGA FIC!!!!

I have another song fic request...

Alastor (or anyone else really lmao) has to find reader in order to patch up like a deal or smth idk and he finds them in this jazz club thing performing on the stage to 'Noel's lament' from 'ride the cyclone'? Like she's draped across a piano singing abt when she was living she was nobody but in her dreams she was this absolute femme fatale and alastor just watches her from the back of the crowd??

So niche but I was thinking abt it all night

Lots of love 🤍

i actually loveeee this song eeeee i’m so happy to do this, and i am so glad you liked the last one it means so much to me teehee sorry this took awhile i’ve been busier lately but i hope you enjoyed this, maybe i’ll do a part two but if i do it may be real delayed until i clear my plate lol!

song referenced; noel’s lament

warnings: implied to be succubus reader but their not really to standards of succubus, i don’t believe there are feminine pronouns here but there are certain feminine things (dress wearing, feminine terms like suductresd etc), no psychical descriptions of reader as per usual, minor gore and death, reader is sneaky and slipper, alastor is weird about love as he should king, but he still feels emotion, possible cringe parts idk it’s a songfic and sometimes they can be 50/50. LMK if i missed any!

word count: 2.7K

You had a debt to pay, you had to have known this. Alastors mind reeled as he toyed with the pen in his hand, occasionally scribbling nonsense down as he thought. You were always quite the slippery sinner, never being tied down to one place in the pentagram, but this was just ridiculous. Since he’d been back, and warmed up to the hotel, he’d been searching for you, but no sign. No demon has said a word about you either had he still been in touch with Vox he may have had you found by now.

You weren’t dead, and that’s as much as he knew; he would’ve felt your souls absence if you’d died, the fickle fun of making such contracts. There was little he knew about you personally, he new superficial things but nothing that would give him a clue on where you’d hide, a silly mistake on his part. He knew Mimzy would be were the cash or party was, Husk wherever there was a gamble and Nifty, well, normally she never strayed far anyways. As for other souls they were about the same in simplicity, whether they were murderous or cannibals they always had something keen to them that would lead him to where they were.

Alastor failed that with you, unfortunately he’d found himself a little at loss with you, in more ways than one you boggled his mind. He was used to women and men alike hitting on him or being incredibly provocative, but there was some way you did it that made him speechless. Not like when Angel would hit on him, where Alastor felt that sensation of being caught off guard with disgust and shock. No, on the night you made the deal, you were stalking around the back of his sofa inside his radio tower, your hands caressing his shoulders as you passed, sweetly and mischievously offering a pleasurable favour in return for his help. That was something else, that was unique to you.

He still recalls the memory as if he was still right there on the couch, engulfed in your scent, entranced by your siren-like voice, it made him hot under the collar and tight around the waist. Thankfully Alastor was a gentleman and a businessman and there was no way you were getting out of a soul contract through some silly sexual favours. It was definitely trying to keep his composure as your lidded eyes watched his lips move, but he managed as he always does. The deal was fairly boring on your part- you wanted to be his friend.

Red flags appeared in Alastors mind about the validity of that but shook on it nonetheless, however that was all before he disappeared. He’d not held up his end of the bargain but then again neither did you; you didn’t show when he called on you to the hotel and try as he may, couldn’t seem to summon you the way he could with Husk.

Dropping the pen, Alastor stood from his seat and shadowed into the floor, stalking out the window like a snake. Alastor decided a little stroll couldn’t hurt, after all his mind couldn’t rest and perhaps he could happen upon you out in sin city. Alastor enjoyed his time walking, humming and basking in all the horrors that happened around, however he grew bored fairly quickly, and decided to take a detour into Mimzy’s favourite joint.

Alastor walked in like he owned the place and seated himself at the bar waiting for his dear friend. “Mimzy dear, how’ve you been?” Alastor spoke out excitedly and loudly, catching the attention of his fellow demon who had appeared from the back of the bar. Mimzy squeaked and ran up to Alastor on the other side of the bar, shooing off the other demons trying to pull at her, the trim of her dress flying in all directions as she hopped and scuttled. “Alastor! What brings ya here, big man? Coming for a dance?” His smile was indifferent as she spoke but he was quite pleased to see the doll, someone of routine. He watched the demon plop herself down on the seat beside him, his hand fiddling with the whisky in his cup that he magicked up. “Yes dear, afraid I have quite the slippery soul in my hands.”

With both elbows on the table Mimzy leaned in, an excited smile on her face. Alastors head fell to the side, sighing at her desire for gossip, Alastor pushed up his monocle and explained the situation with you briefly. He probably went into too many details about how you looked, or smelt, or perhaps how he thought of you in his absence because the whole time Mimzy was coy and giggles. “Wow Al, sounds like you’re carryin’ a torch for this gal’,” Mimzy teased, walking her fingers across the table in his direction. Alastor stiffened at that watching her do her silly tease wide eyed. What a juvenile thing to assume, that he had feelings for some sinner. “Mimzy, don't be ridiculous!” Alastor scoffed grin still present as he threw his limp hand her way, head tossed back. “There’s no such thing! Besides she’s nothing more than some sensuous succubus, it’s what those types of demons do. Seduce.”

Crossing her arms Mimzy let out a flat ‘mhm’ clearly not convinced by what was being said. “Well Al, tell ya what! You have my back next time some nasty loan sharks come, and i’ll tell ya where your pretty seductress is.” Alastors nails tapped against the table rhythmically as he silently pondered, it’s not like he’d say no to her, just as she wouldn’t say no to him. Fixing his posture from his more lesuride position, he agreed with a nod, gulping back the last of his liquor.

This club Alastor stepped into was very reminiscent of a wealthy man’s speakeasy, something that was nestled safely in the depth of the pentagram in an unassuming alley, as if it were hiding from something or someone. It was nostalgic for him, in a sickening way, Alastor didn’t enjoy remembering mortal life as it seemed so detached from him and who he is now. His red eyes danced across the room manically, his static following in suit with every glance he gave. Searching for his little succubus. Low amber lighting, that stuffy smell of smoke in the air, the velvet chairs, surrounding chatter and the piano playing smooth jazz; Alastors body subconsciously relaxed into the familiar environment, as much as he hated his mortal life there were such aspects like this he missed.

He dragged himself inside and sat in a red velvet chair, immediately he slumped onto the table, his elbows on the table, his chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with the fire from the candle, bringing it up, around, and high and low. His eyes dragged over to the stage as the piano rifted into a new tune, the lights in the room dimming and brightening toward the stage. Inwardly, Alastors frustrations imploded making his skin hot and his antlers grow in size; all the light to see you with now focused on the stage for a performance he couldn’t care less about.

Standing to his feet, Alastor gripped his microphone like it was his life line. With a strained smile he began towards the door as the music began, and a voice started introducing themselves and talking about their dreams, however he was too busy being frustrated, and scanning the room for you to fully pay attention to the voice. That was until- “A hooker with a heart of black charcoal.” A breathy voice finally sang out, grabbing the attention of Alastor as he neared the exit. Freezing the static sounds of radio station channels sounded out from him, his eyes widening at the sound of you.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he looked over the crowd of seated heads and at the stage where you were walking on. There was a light focused down on you as you slunk out from behind a curtain furthest from the piano. Straightening his back, Alastor slipped into the shadows and behind a pillar near the bar, just to wait for you of course, to come off. “I write poems to burn by fire light, drink champagne and guzzle gin, good girls call me ‘The Town Bicycle’- don't knock it til you’ve tried my life of sin,” Alastor watched enchanted as you dragged your heels across the stage as you sung, making your way over the piano with seductive grace, something Alastor wasn’t used to being so hooked by.

“Oh, Claude, my pimp knows neva mess with me,” Your voice, once serene and beautiful now, was demonic and harsh, capturing the audience's attention. “Last prick did that faded quick to black,” Like a switch your voice returned to its sweetness, your arms outstretched just slightly, fingers twinkling to emphasise the ‘fade’ you sang of. Alastor couldn’t look away from how you manuerved your body, how your voice carried through the room, and how the lights sparkled against your jewellery. You were a sight for sore eyes as you teasingly brought yourself closer to the piano, that regular soft bedroom look in your eyes. “I have no idea where to find him officers,”

Alastors brow quirked at that, as your hands came up to cup your face with false naïveté. “But if you do, please mention that I’d like to have returned that pretty knife, that I stuck, ten. times. in his, back!” You grit out, sweet façade falling once more making Alastors tail wag, unbeknownst to him. There was something about the way you pulled and pushed the narrative in the song that made him antsy, excited even, and the fact that this was something you stated you dreamed to be, meaning whilst alive you dreamt of killing, of being bad, oh that made Alastors blood rush.. You waltzed around as you continued to sing the lyrics to the chores, Alastors eyes watched closely as you slithered your body effortlessly up onto the piano.

It was like you were made for performing, singing, and he had the brief fantasy of you in his studio singing on air, sat on his lap as you sung through his microphone for the folks of hell to hear, but he pulled himself out of it quickly, scolding himself for indulging in silliness. Now your body was draped across the obsidian piano that shone the reflections of the light, you sat on your hips, legs folded behind you, hands over your heart. “He said ‘I think I am in love with you’- I’ve heard that lie a million times before,” Your posture fell slightly as did your tone, it seemed that there was some truth and sombre in the lyrics you sang, and in a way Alastor felt like he could relate to that; after all what even was love?

It made him feel weak to pity you, to attempt to empathise with your pain, but there was barely any time to think about his thoughts because just as he did, you’d recapture his attention entirely. “Oh, tonight I give into the fantasy,” Your head fell back, sorrow in your tone as your hand caressed your shoulder, pulling down the strap of your dress. “Take love when you can, when you’re a whore.” After a silent moment the chorus picked up, as did you, sliding yourself off the piano and dancing around with a smile. Unfortunately Alastors mind lagged behind, something was just too vulnerable in the way you sang about love, and considering it wasn’t something he often thought about, it peaked his curiosity just slightly.

It wasn’t until the end of the performance when you sung about your death that Alastors attention zeroed back in on you, his eyes catching yours as the song fell out, your head turned in his direction. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth fell slightly ajar before you sang out one last word: a ‘hey’ coincidentally directed toward Alastor. After that the lights on stage shut off instantly, and the crowd applause began.

Alastor watched you be dragged off stage by two larger demons through the darkness, your legs flailing as your arms were restrained, at the sight the purpose of him being here returned. Pushing himself off the pillar he was leant against, he brushed himself off and straightened the crimps in his pants, before picking up his microphone and making his way towards where you’d been dragged. It was a cruddy little backstage area, he’s under the assumption the performers here weren’t treated as kindly as the guests. Throwing the door open he was greeted by the sight of you, the two demons who dragged you off, and some other third one.

You sat on an ottoman in the middle of the room, your entire essence changed as you curled into yourself, your head hung low. Humming, Alastor adjusted his monocle. “Am I interrupting something?” Oh how Alastor loved to play dumb, he watched the third demon, seemingly imp, stand straight anger evident and radiating off of him. “Yeah you really fuckin are red, get outta here now.” The imp barked throwing his hands up in a shooing motion. Your eyes met Alastors, begging silently to stay. “I’m afraid i can’t do that you silly lug,” Alastor tutted joyfully stepping into the room throwing his microphone around like it was a toy. His shadows crawled out from beneath his feet, sneaking up the walls and across the ceilings making the three men anxious. “This little canary happens to me mine, soul and all.” His voice shifted to a more demonic one as the hues in the room shifted.

You sat speechless, watching the mysterious deer defend you after seven long years of being on hold with him. You were surprised he came at such a time, convenient for you. The two muscle demons were quick to puff their chests and step toward Alastor, but before they could properly swing, tentacles emerged from the shadows gripping the torso and hips of the men and pulling them in two. The screams were horrific, and the sounds of squelch and ripping nearly made you yourself sick, however it did the job for the littler imp as he immediately caved. “Oh okay okay, alright buddy, take the siren, no problem take em! Go!” The imp stressed while pulling you from your seat and toward Alastor hurriedly.

You stumbled against his pushing and found yourself falling accidentally into Alastors arms, tripping over your own heel. Alastor caught you without even looking down, arms wrapping instinctively around you as he glared at the imp with a smile. “Oh good, I would have hated to have caused a scene! Ha ha.” Alastor laughed humorously, although he was the only one finding any joy from this as the imp cowered away from the two of you. Pulling you closer to his body, Alastor fell into the ground with you, your body feeling freezing and damp for a moment before normalcy returned.

You didn’t realise you had your hands over your eyes until you felt Alastors hands grip your wrists, and pull your hands away. You blinked up at him before glancing around the room, it was indeed a room, one you’d never seen. “We're at the Hazbin Hotel dear, time for you to see to your deal.” Alastor said calmly, his tone even and his voice soft, his even his static was at a minimum. “Of course,” You say clearing your throat and backing up from his grasp. He didn’t fight against your distance, letting his arms fall and wrap behind his back as they normally would. “Why did you help me back there? I mean you could’ve just poofed us away?” You ask, rubbing the places on your arms where the demons dragged you.

“Why, thats what friends are for my dear! That was our deal, no? To scare off the threats and protect each other?” Alastor coyly hummed, bending slightly at the waist. Looking down slightly you nodded, hands coming up to sit on your waist. Sighing you shook your head, you should’ve known that this would come back to bite you in the ass eventually. “Alright slick, what is it that i’m doing for you?”

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fluff

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dawnwriterimagines · 1 year

Text

debt that’s owed : Fezco (3)

Summary: Laurie needs someone to pay her the debt that’s owed to her, Rue ran from her, which gives her the perfect opportunity to use Fezco’s words against him. But, is she worth you?

Warning(s): Angst, talk of overdose, Fear, Drugs, mentions of sex trafficking, Laurie’s crazy ass once again, etc.

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Author’s Note: What a beautiful man we lost, in every sense of the word. Rest in Peace Angus. Gone too soon. We all love and appreciate the works you’ve done, the lives you’ve changed and the love you give, rest well in beautiful peace.

Buy me a Coffee? Ko-Fi

- - -

You had woken up disoriented and drugged, a needle still sticking out of your arm, a few too many holes made that made your skin splotchy and purple. Laurie had been standing over you, hushing you as she took the needle from your skin, kissing your wrist as a mother would have her only child before she stood. “Laurie...” you sighed out, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Laurie. Please...”

The older woman rubbed your cheek, “Shhh...” the touch running through your system all the way down to your toes, you took a breath, shivering at the discomfort. “They don’t like it when you girlies talk too much, hush now, sweetie.” You’d never felt like this before. You felt terrible.

She left the door open when she left the room, a man you didn’t recognize peeking through the crack of the doorway to look at you, he gave a pleased laugh, whistling.

You turned on the floor, the blanket beneath you did nothing to shelter you from the cold floor below. The lights were dim from the tiny lamp in the corner, nothing else in the room, but it wasn’t very big anyway.

It took a while to realize you were naked, only from recalling what you had been wearing earlier, and the cold air that you could feel everywhere but nowhere all at once, cause you were sweating terribly. Feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden. You rolled around, pulling the blanket with you as you broke out into a fever, the discomfort you felt was enough to distract you from the horrifying situation you were in currently.

“Laurie...” you drawled, whimpering as the drugs took you once again. It didn’t feel right at all, you felt sick and you felt fucking amazing all at the same time, but you were scared most of all. You had no idea what she had been pumping you with for the last few hours. “Fez...” you called for your boyfriend, sobbing as your eyes rolled back as you quickly succumbed to the feeling. “Fezziee...” you hiccupped.

“I like this one,” you heard the stranger say.

The man at the doorway pulled out a scrunched up wad of cash from his pocket, beginning to slide off his jacket, before Laurie stopped him with a shake of her head. “Just watching for now. She’s not ready yet, still under prep. But, if you wanted to purchase her, that’s different...”

You shivered as you followed your high, wondering what would happen next and if Fezco would ever find you before something horrible happened to you.

- - -

Fezco looks around as he rushes over to Rue, checking for anyone that was around the house that may be unwanted, clearly on edge. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Rue?” he questioned the girl, she follows the two of them into the house. “Imma need you to leave, I ain’t askin’.”

Her gaze lingering on the broken screen door, unable to even close it as it had no knob now, the whole piece completely gone as if it’d been blown to pieces, “I wanted to hang out...but obviously you’ve got some shit goin’ on,” her eye’s going wide at the state of the house. “What the--what the fuck happened here?” the glass on the floor, the broken deck doorway, the flipped table, the broken lamp on the floor, the scuffled carpet.

Rue steps into the house, slowly, Ash getting on the computer, looking for something, Fezco making a call, his shoulders low as if something heavy sat upon them. The girl’s eye’s narrowing as she followed the scuffs over to the room hallway, the bedroom down the hall had its door broken down, wooden pieces still on the floor.

Concerned was not the word to describe how she felt right. Scared wasn’t either. Worried, maybe. But, she was also pretty terrified. Terrified of the answer to her next question.

“Fez,” she hadn’t torn her eyes away from the hallway when she spoke, her voice small, reluctant. “Where’s (Y/n)?” she turns then, her brows knitted together in complete worry, stumbling forwards and away from the hall. She makes her way over to Fezco, taking a handful of his shirt as she pulls him, “Fez!” her voice breaks, her fists shaking, “Where is she?!” she sucks in a breath as she sees his face and the way he doesn’t look her in the eye. “No...” she shook her head. “What so she’s...she’s what? She’s gone?” her voice raising. “Is (y/n) gone, Fez? Come on, gimme something!”

“She’s not gone,” Fezco turned to her with a hardened look, pulling her hands from his shirt, the material stretching out as her grip hadn’t loosened. “Imma find her. Imma find her and kill the motha’fucker that did this,” he seethed to himself, stepping away from her. “Ash, go over the tapes. Try yesterday and this morning, find a camera that isn’t fucked with.”

Ash doesn’t say anything but nod, rushing to the room down the hall as Fezco took the laptop from him, sitting down on the couch, Rue following Fezco, still confused with what was going on.

“Who...wait, who did this?” Rue asked, loudly. “Stop ignoring me, man.”

“I told you to fuckin’ go home, Rue,” Fezco’s eyes flickered up to the girl before back down at the screen, rewatching this morning’s tapes, trying to find someone he recognized. “I ain’t need this right now.”

“Need what? I’m tryin’ to help you,” Rue frowned, offended. “I wanna help! My best friend’s fucking missing, well...kidnapped, by some fucking jackass and even trashed your crib,” she gestured around the house at the damage. “Lemme do something, I can help! I can help find her!”

Fezco looked up toward her, agitated. “You wanna do somethin’ helpful?”

“Yeah, dude!” She nodded before making a face. “Wait, you aren’t gonna just tell me to leave--”

“Go home, Rue.”

“Oh, come on!” she yelled out. “I can help you! I be doin’ mad detective shit. Besides you need all the help you can get, it’s not like you can ask the guys in blue.”

Fezco ignored her for now, trying to stay focused. “Just go sit down somewhere, man. I don’t got time for this.”

And so, reluctantly, Rue went towards the other side of the couch, around towards Ashtray, she sticks her head out of the sliding panel doorway, which was now gone, broken through. Alarmed, she looks down at the glass at her feet, it crunches, burying itself further into the carpet.

Behind her, Ashtray took a note from his pocket, letting it sit on the coffee table, sliding it over to his brother. “This gotta mean something. Wanna run this through some contacts?”

Fezco thinks on it, before nodding at the idea. “Yeah, man. Let’s try it.”

As they head back to work, Rue perks up at the new source of info, “Wait, ya’ll got a clue?” coming over to the coffee table, picking up the note, Fezco fumes and Ashtray gaps at the girl’s unwanted involvement.

“Rue!” Fezco grits. “What I just tell you, man!” He usually saw her presence as quite endearing

Rue brushes him off. “I’m good at riddles, just--” then she really looks at the note. 10k.

10k...?

Oh my fucking god, 10k.

As Fezco snatches the note from her grip, Rue stands there, horrified. Her expression morphing completely, shoulders stiffening and hands tensing up, she turns quickly so Fezco can’t see the mortified look on her face. The guilt that quickly begins to eat at her.

She had thought about it, of course. Of the money she owed Laurie, the drug dealer that she had made a fake deal with in a pathetic effort to get the pills that her regular plug, Fez, had been refusing her. In some way, she blamed Fezco, if he had just given her the damn pills and let her deal with whatever happened to her later, maybe she would’ve never went to Laurie, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped...

No, it was her fault, oh my god it her fault. She went to Laurie cause she was fucking desperate and then she ran when Laurie had gotten her the first time, but now you were taken in her place.

She recalled being drugged out of her mind, just as she wanted, but locked in a room and awaiting to be sold for a fuck.

Rue feels so goddamn sick all of a sudden. She wanted to vomit.

God, that’s what you could be dealing with right now.

She did this. Oh god, she did this to you.

But, Fezco does notice.

“Rue...” he says, slowly.

Ashtray looks up, stopping in his typing. He glances between the two of them silently, before looking at Rue a bit more seriously, taking note of the way her entire demeanor’s changed. He closed the laptop.

Rue didn’t answer Fezco, didn’t even turn to face him, trying to think of something to say, anything that could defend why. But what could she possibly say besides the fact it was supposed to be her.

Fezco forcefully turned the girl around, “Rue!” to which she stumbled back away from him, her face made his stomach drop, knowing now that she knew exactly why this was happening. “You...”

“I didn’t know, I swear, ok?” Rue started, hyperventilating, sniffling as she wiped a panicked tear from her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I felt like I was fucking dying, Fez! I was dying! And I--I just--Fez!” she cried as he turned from her, running his hands over his hair, down his face, trying to gather himself, trying to keep himself together. “Fez, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, I didn’t think she’d come after anyone, I didn’t think any of it would go this far, please--”

Ashtray’s eyes widened, lost for words.

“RUE!” Fezco roared, his body snapping towards her, pinched fingers silencing her, “Motherf--FUCK! Are you fucking--!” he shoved at the side wall, hitting anything that wasn’t her as anger overwhelmed him. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Rue?!” he couldn’t believe this. How far the girl had really fell to really get herself, to get you, into this kind of situation.

“I know! I know! I know!” Rue sobbed, covering her face as Fez screamed at her. “Fucking god, I know! I messed up!”

“DO YOU?! Cause (y/n)’s paying for your bullshit, your fucking dumb ass, fuck shit! You mother--get the fuck out,” he fumed, running a hand over his mouth, gesturing to the door. He turned from her, he couldn’t even stand to look at her right now.

Rue sniffled, shaking. “Fez...Fez, I’m sorry. I can fix it, I can--”

“GET. THE FUCK,” Fezco explodes. “OUT!”

And Rue has no other choice but to leave, casting a guilty glance to Ashtray as well, who stares her down as if he were ready to pull the trigger on her with the glock he currently suddenly had in his hand.

She quickly left the house, sobbing to herself, hardly able to breathe as she stumbled away from the steps. “I’m sorry...” she hiccupped, turning to the house. “I’m sorry, please...” she whispered. “I can fix this...please, I can...I can fix this.”

Rue made her way away from the house though. Making up her mind to fix this. She can fix this...

- - -

Fezco and Ashtray took their guns, a few mags full of bullets and as much cash they had stashed up, just over 8k, not enough to cover, given the raid that cut their stash short for a while. But, if Laurie wouldn’t take the bribe than getting violent was the next best thing. And Fezco didn’t mind the latter.

So when they arrived at Laurie’s home, weapons tucked into their waist bands, into the inner pockets of their jackets, Fezco parked up, Ashtray loading up his shotgun and snapping the end back into place. “Blow the bitch’s head off if this don’t work out, ight man.”

“That’s the plan, bruh,” Ash said, his young face hardened with his hatred for the sadistic dealer that had stolen his mother from him..

Fezco leaves the car, walking up to the house, fighting the urge to kick the door in and unload every bullet into someone’s fucking skull...”What’chu want, man?” Bruce, Laurie’s partner, large and intimidating in his size, glared down at Fezco.

The young man wasn’t swayed, unblinking eyes peering up at him. “Laurie.”

Bruce frowned at the tone. “You got yo’ shit this month, ain’t you? Unless you got payment already?”

“Laurie, man,” Fezco fought to keep his cool. “Where is she?”

Bruce put his hand on the gun he kept at the waistband of his trunks, “What you gotta say ta her, you can say to me.”

Fezco stood there a while, the two men exchanging violent glares, eyes boring into the other and Fezco itched to grab the gun at his side and let loose. But, he didn’t even know if you were even at this house, he needed to know first. “Ma girl...(y/n), where she at, bruh?”

Bruce smirked, straightening. “Shoulda started with that,” Fezco’s nostrils flared at his words. “You got the money to buy her back, huh?”

“She ain’t belong to nobody, man. And ya’ll fucked wit us with some shit that ain’t got nothin’ to do with her,” Fezco gritted his teeth. “Thought we was cool on this bullshit, bruh.”

“You said she was family,” came Laurie’s soft-spoken voice. She came around the corner, behind Bruce, patting her husband’s arm to back him up, “Didn’t you?”

“She’s a fuckin’ child. And got her ass into some shit. But, if you had a problem wit us, come to me,” Fezco sneered. “You came up and took ma girl--” his nails bite into the palms of his hand, he itched to kill this fucking bitch and her demented ass husband. “Where the fuck is she?”

Laurie calmly stepped in front of Fezco. “Don’t worry, Fez. She’s ok,” she assured him, with dead eyes and a quiet voice. “But, remember, I still need 10 thousand, and another few hundred more for a few packs of morphine, a bit of fentanyl...” as Laurie spoke, Fezco’s heart clenched.

Fezco tosses the bag at her feet, “A lil’ over $8500 in there,” he said. “I don’t give a fuck if it ain’t enough for you, you took my girl, all your fucked bullshit, trashed ma crib, my fucking family--” he huffed harshly to contain himself. “This all you fucking gettin’ from me, and it’s more than you’ll ever get from us again. Where. Is. She. You fucking bitch.”

Bruce took a step towards him at his words, stopped by Laurie, who held a hand up to keep him where he was, entranced by the rage on the young man’s face. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

“Laurie--” Bruce began.

“Come on in, she’s right in here, Fez,” she welcomed him inside.

Fezco followed her inside, Bruce sneering at him, to which Fezco didn’t bother to acknowledge, all he was focused on now was finally getting his hands back on you, rescuing you from this dreaded place.

Laurie stopped in front of a locked room, pulling out a key from her pocket, the lock clicks open. She takes the lock off and opens the heavy door with a light grunt, the dim lighting offering nothing much, but it was light enough to see you in the middle of the room.

Breathing harshly, turned on your side, skin drenched with sweat, “Fez...” you drawl out, constantly. “Fez...Fez...” you cried, silently, delirious as you tossed and turned.

Fezco races into the room, “Ma!” he cries, sliding to his knees at your side, quickly sitting you up, wrapping the thin blanket around your naked frame. “Hey, hey, baby, hey,” he gently slaps your cheek, stroking your flushed face as you shiver in his arms, your eyes unfocused, rolling in the back of your head.

He didn’t like that, taking your face in his hand. “(y/n), (y/n) look at me, look at me, come on, ma. Look at me,” he turned your head to look him in the eye, “Please, baby, can you look at me, you can, you got it, ya see,” you slowly began to regain consciousness, eye sight clearing. “That’s my girl. Look, you’re ok, you’re alright,” he rubs your arms, you’re freezing but you’re sweating terribly.

“Fez...” you whispered.

“I’m right here, ma,” he assured you. Picking you up off the ground, blanket wrapped tight. “I’m right here. I gotchu, come on, we’re going home, baby,” he stands, heading to the door. Casting a long glare to a calmly smiling Laurie, before exiting the room, he couldn’t afford to do any damage, not when you were in this condition.

“I don’t feel...” you spoke, loosely. Head limp against his shoulder, eyes hardly open. “I don’t feel that great, fez...”

“You’re alright, you’re alright, ok?” Fezco went down the hall as fast as he could, keeping the fear out of his voice, the panic from his tone.

Coming up to the front door, where he found Rue standing at the steps. Bruce had a short stack of cash in hand that he didn’t have before, less than 10k clearly, but enough to make him happy enough to move out of the way when Fezco made his way past.

The young girl was crying hard, relief clear in her face as she saw Fezco come around the corner with you in his arms, but the state of you made her heart drop. “(Y/n)...hey, is she alright?” she asked, worriedly. “Fez...” To which Fezco brushed her off, moving past her without as much as a word of acknowledgement.

Ashtray opens passenger door for Fez to place you in, buckling you up as you slump, quickly beginning to pass out once again. “Hey, don’t sleep. Wake up. Mom!” Ashtray startles you awake, leaning over towards you in the backseat as Fezco runs around to the other side to the driver seat. Rue enters the backseat, hesitantly, and stays quiet to not be noticed. She looks at your tired, uncomfortable face in the side mirror, and she cries a bit harder.

Fezco drives off with a final glance to Laurie and her husband waving them off at the step, as if they had just passed by for tea and cookies. The psychopaths'. They waved, knowing he’d be back for blood.

“You’re ok,” he says as he drives. Squeezing your thigh as you shift and turn, “You’re ok, hey, ma. Ma, baby,” he draws your attention. “Hey, there you are, baby.”

You’re lucid and high off whatever the hell must be in your system when you smile at him, “Hi, baby...” you smile at him, before slumping once again.

Terrified what may happen if you fall asleep, he yells. “(Y/n)!” he startles you awake again.

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

“You’re ok, it’s ok, just keep awake for a little alright?”

“Can we go home now...” you wondered, quietly.

“On our way,” Ashtray says. Fezco glances at his little brother in the mirror.

But, they don’t go home. They stop by a friend’s spot, who had offered to let them crash for the next few days, since he was out of town and they were in some shit.

Entering the home, Fezco carries you to the tub, Rue following behind, as Ash locks the door behind him. Filling up the tub as you lean against the porcelain edge, the warm water clearly calming you, the sound of the running pipe...

But before anything, Fezco sticks his fingers down your throat, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats as he forces you to gag up anything you might have ingested, emptying out your stomach contents, which wasn’t much. You sniffle and cry, hacking up whatever you could get out, leaning against your lover as your stomach churns in discomfort.

He then helps you into the tub, the water climbing to your chest. Cleaning the dirt from the floor you had been laying on, the dried blood and the horrors of the day...

Fezco takes off his sweater and his jeans, left only in his underwear, he steps into the tub behind you, holding you close, “There you go, baby,” he soothingly speaks to you, kissing your forehead as he squeezes you. “You’re alright now. I’ve gotchu, I got you...”

He glances down at the holes in your arm, bruised and crusted with blood, your hands were cut from the glass earlier. He raised one of your hands to his lips as you turned to lean your cheek to his chest, and he began to cry, closing his eyes tightly.

You slept as he wept.

But he was grateful he had gotten you back.

At least god had given him that much today.

He kissed your hands, your knuckles, your cut skin, the tips of your fingers.

Then, he just held you to him as the faucet dripped to a stop.

- - -

Awakening in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar place, you stood fast and out of the bed, your back slamming against the wall in surprise. You reached for a light switch, but you couldn’t see anything around you, nothing felt familiar at all, you shook in terror as the man you laid next to stirred and sat up in your mad scramble for light.

“No, no, please!” you collapsed in the corner, covering your mouth before the stranger could even say a thing, he had stood too fast for you to think nothing else but soon violence brought against you.

“Ma! It’s me! It’s me,” Fezco found a light switch, the dark, unfamiliar room illuminating, to reveal himself to you. “It’s just me.”

You released a heavy sigh of relief, that visible took a weight off your chest. But, it also made your tears run fast, the days having been too much for you, the thought alone had brought you down to your knees and crushed you before you even knew it wasn’t true.

Fezco quickly went around the bed, coming to sit in front of you, to which you fell into his arms, quickly wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I thought someone--I didn’t know if I--” Fezco interrupts you with a simple stroke of her cheeks, running his thumbs across your cheekbones to soothe your thoughts and wipe your tears.

“I know, I know,” he whispered to her, his voice cracks as his control leaves him. It pains him too much to see you break like this. “But, what happened, huh? You’re here with me. They didn’t get you, baby. They didn’t. You’re here with me.”

“You saved me,” you hiccupped, holding him desperately, just wishing to be close enough to feel nothing but him. “I thought I’d never see you again. That I’d never see Ash.”

“Impossible, ma,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Can neva get rid of me, you know that. And Ash on his own lil’ demon time, he ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You release a watery laugh at his joke, sniffling harshly as Fezco rocks you in his arms, safely keeping you wrapped up in his embrace.

There’s a knock at the door, they raise their heads, Ashtray entering the room, silently. He stands there for a second as he shuts the door behind him, he shifts from one foot to the other, eyes glancing around, a frown on his face.

“Ash?” you whispered, looking to the boy. Fez knew though, what was wrong.

As Ashtray looked at you finally, his frown deepened, but it wasn’t a frown, just a miserable look he couldn’t hide anymore, a joy that trailed to sadness and brought tears to his usually hardened eyes. And then suddenly, Ash looked like the little boy that you had always allowed him to be, and that he would’ve never been again if you had gone.

“Ash...” you spoke, softly. Reaching out to him, you pulled him by the wrist, into your arms this time. And he broke like glass.

Like a dam, his tears flow like a downpour. An unwilling sob escapes him as he sniffles and cries into your shoulder, embracing you as he hoped he’d be able to every time he prayed to God for your safe return.

You kissed Ashtray’s forehead, stroking his face, his hair, and you squeezed him like no one ever had. You breathe deeply, a shiver leaves you as you fight your own tears, “Oh, my sweet boy,” you hold him close, as he buries himself to you. “I love you, I love you.” You say it fast, and you say it with all the love you have, like it could be your last time.

Complete. Is how their family felt again. Fezco engulfed himself in the feeling. The thought of losing you, the absence of you, it would’ve destroyed them.

Fezco leans his forehead to his brother’s, knocking heads gently, the boy peering up to him as he sniffles into your neck. The big brother tenderly rubs his little brother’s head, he kisses his soon wife and let them both fall into his chest, into the side of the bed.

And like the family they were, they collapsed against one another, holding each other tight.

Everything’s ok.

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