#stretching is amazing but i really need to be made longer from it

[safination]

Partners in Death... and Life

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

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: The Radio Star’s Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| |Masterlist| ao3| Tag-list| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhhh…yes?”

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

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

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

“It is.”

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My husband.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh…So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not at all.”

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

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

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

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

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

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

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do tell!”

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

“His wife.”

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

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

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

Alastor grabs the second pump. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You extend your arm for a handshake.

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

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God…

Lucifer begins to sing.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Your hair sticks to your face.

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

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

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

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

You wave back.

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

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

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

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

“You really don’t have to.”

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

“But—”

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

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

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

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

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

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

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

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

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

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

“Thank you, Alastor.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

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

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

“Well, what would you like to know?”

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

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

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

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

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

“In what way?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like… the news?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

“Indeed.”

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

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

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

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

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

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

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

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

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

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

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

“………No.”

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

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

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “Virgin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…have absolutely no idea.”

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

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

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

“Good to know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Husband?” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

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

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

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

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take a pen and write your notes.

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

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

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

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

Alastor emerges from the trees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

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

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

“Why not become one then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I made sure to be careful.”

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

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

Alastor smiles at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why change your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hotel trembles.

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

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

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

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

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

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

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

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

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

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

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

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

You flap your arms, trying to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulders, his hold on your firm. His touch keeps you grounded. You glance back to the wall, frowning when the wood burns and char. Your finger digs into the fabric of his coat as the hotel burns around you.

You hold his gaze, trying to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No,” he says, his eyes squint into a glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

Alastor smoothens the feathers on your hair. You shake your head. “Not a single feather out of place. Thank you, my deerest.”

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

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

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

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

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

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

“Mimzy…” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “…Yeah?”

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

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

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

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

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

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

“Indeed.”

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

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

“You always do, my love.”

And oh…

Another song.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

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

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

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

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

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

“Doting husband?”

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

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

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

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

“Then why did you call me here?”

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

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

“What would you do without me?”

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

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

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

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

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

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

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

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

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

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

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

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

“No, I guess it would not.”

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

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

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

“That’s because it was a great year.”

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

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

“Continue.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

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

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

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

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

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

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

“Of course, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

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

[the-entitie]

Why didn't you say anything?

Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):

A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.

Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》

Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.

CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....

Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.

You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.

None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.

Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.

You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.

Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.

That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.

It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.

You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.

When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.

And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.

When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.

In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.

It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.

You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.

And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.

He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.

And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.

So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.

Starting small.

Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.

Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.

Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.

The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.

Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.

Soap was the first to notice the actual change.

Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.

"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.

"All good Cap."

"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"

"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."

"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"

"Apologies, old habits."

Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.

"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"

His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.

He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.

"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"

"Not of my use in this team."

"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."

That night, he let you ride him.

Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.

He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.

Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.

He shut that down real quick.

[mypoisonedvine]

Ummm if you’d feel like writing it, I would go absolutely fucking feral for some Jackson Rippner content by you!! Maybe him revealing he’s been stalking reader or something of the like?? Honestly just whatever wanna write! It would be amazing either way

oh ugh I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to revisit this lil monster!!

warnings: con turned noncon, degradation, skanky club sex, jackson being creepy as hell

"I swear I never do this," you blurted out alongside a giggle as he pulled you into the mostly-empty coat closet, pressing you up against the wall before the door was even shut.

"Me either," he replied as he started to pull up the bottom of your dress, but you couldn't know if that was true-- it didn't really matter now, did it?

You bit your lip as he groped your ass, strong fingers pulling your panties down to your thighs; you arched your back, hardly believing this was happening but insanely turned on that it was.

"God, you need it so bad," he noticed with a little laugh, and you whimpered from being called out like that. But you sighed with relief as you heard him quickly opening his belt and pants.

You gasped when you felt him press right up to your, his thick head sliding between your folds. "F-fuck, a condom," you reminded him, and he laughed a little.

"No time," he replied before sliding in, and you would've protested if you weren't too busy moaning from the stretch. "Shit, baby, you're soaked."

"O-oh, fuck," you purred as he slid all the way to the hilt, your eyes rolling back from how deep he was. You got pretty lucky that the handsome stranger you'd been flirting and dancing with tonight had such a perfect cock. And yes, you were plenty wet-- he'd been turning you on just with the way he danced with you, little teasing touches and his body pressed to yours... obviously you had to be pretty turned on to agree to this.

He pressed his hips to yours and held onto you tight as he started to thrust. "God," he groaned, moving pretty quickly already, "fucking dripping. Such a desperate slut."

You gasped, wondering if you should be offended by that; but it just made your walls clench on him in encouragement, so you really couldn't act mad about it now. "Fuck," you blurted out instead, "I-I said I don't do this--"

"I know you don't," he smiled, moving in closer to speak beside your ear. "I know you don't, baby, you're a good girl."

You smirked a little, wanting to remind you both of how deliciously wrong this was. "You don't know me," you breathed, "you don't even know my name."

"I know your name," he replied. "I know your address, your license plate number, that shitty password you use for everything--"

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what he was getting at... until he started to list them. Everything he said, he told you in a low moan by your ear, and the longer he went on the more your smile fell into a gasp and you fought to push him away-- but he just grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the wall as he growled and fucked you harder.

"Such a good fucking girl," he said again, sounding meaner this time though. "So good and so naive... I just had to see you let loose, baby, I'm sorry-- I wasn't supposed to break cover, but I had to see how easy it would be to get you to let out the little whore I could tell was hiding underneath. I have to admit, you were a lot easier than expected."

"What the fuck-- get off me!" you yelped, trying to squirm away, but it was totally useless, and he fucked you harder against the wall as he bit down on your neck.

"My name, by the way, is Jackson," he groaned. "I want you to say it when I make you come."

[wreckedandpolemic]

baby i'm yours - matty healy

(mdni) in which you’ve missed your husband during his long day at work. a white and gold future fic. 1885 words.

warnings: spanking, degradation, praise, unprotected sex, daddy kink, slight dumbification, breeding kink, overstimulation

It’s been a year since you and Matty got married, and six months since you quit your job. It’s been fucking amazing, knowing you don’t have to take care of anyone’s responsibilities or manage anyone’s life but your own. Your family and friends met your decision with raised eyebrows, gentle concern, but you really, truly couldn’t be happier. You practically live for the smile on your husband’s face when you greet him at the door, sometimes with a plate and others wearing nothing but a smile.

For a minute, you lose yourself in a daydream about last night, your legs over Matty’s shoulders, his fingers buried in your cunt and his tongue insistent and sure over your clit. Heat spirals between your legs, the memory of your body’s collapse washing over you in exquisite detail. A harsh clatter of ceramic against metal startles you out of your thoughts, the plate you’d been holding having slipped from your grip in your distraction.

A dark chuckle rings low around you, and, startled, you whip around to find its source. Matty watches you with a smirk, leaning carelessly against the counter. “Hi, baby,” he grins, eyes wide as he drinks in the sight of you dressed only in an apron and white lingerie. “What’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, a flush creeping up your cheeks. “Just dropped a plate. Soapy hands, s’all. It happens,” you say, cracks webbing through your thin veil of nonchalance the longer he observes you.

Matty tilts his head a fraction. “How come you didn’t hear me come in?” You bite your lip, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe I wanted to make you wait for it,” you tease, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

He steps closer, chest rising and falling as his eyes darken. “That’s not very nice, is it, angel?”

The look in his eyes means he’s expecting an answer, the cool, impassive mask of dominance slipping over his face. “No, Daddy,” you say, avoiding his searching gaze.

Another step closer. “That’s right. But I think you’re lying to me, baby. Good girls tell the truth, yeah?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” you say, not looking up as he crowds you, close enough that you can smell cigarette smoke on his breath. “Was thinking about you.” Matty crooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. “About how you made me feel so good.” You press your body against his, the heat of him soaking against your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes.

“‘S that why you dressed up all pretty, baby? So desperate for me you wanna have my cock as soon as I get home?” He speaks the words against your lips, teasingly close to a kiss. “Drives me fuckin’ crazy, princess. Coming home, seeing my pretty housewife all ready for me. Bet you’re so wet I could just bend you over right now, huh?”

You moan, stretching up towards him and catching him in a kiss, pouring your desire against his mouth as his hands come up to untie the string of your apron. The warmth of his touch races up your spine, anticipation thrumming under your skin. A whine escapes you as he pulls away to lift the apron over your head, letting it crumple on the floor as his head falls to your neck.

Matty kisses over last night’s bruises, smirking against your skin as you whimper softly at the pressure on your sore skin. “You want that, princess? Yeah? C’mon, be a good girl, turn around for me,” he instructs, and you obey unthinkingly, bracing yourself against the counter. “There’s my sweet girl,” he says, fingers brushing over your wetness, understimulating as you try to grind down against him. “Not so fast,” he chides. “You still lied to me tonight, angel. Need to punish you before I give you what you want, okay?” He slides your panties down your legs, letting you step out of them as they fall to the floor and sliding the lace of your dress over your hips.

“Okay, Daddy. You know best.” You lean further forward, baring the smooth, round flesh of your ass to him. A sound that’s somewhere between a cry and a moan tears from your throat and you jolt forward at the first, harsh contact of his hand against your skin.

“Say thank you, baby. ‘M teaching you how to behave. Training up my little housewife, yeah?” Your mind is melting, body turning liquid, letting him mould you into whatever shape he wants.

“Thank you, Daddy. Wanna be perfect for you,” you murmur absently, gasping as he strikes again, twice in quick succession. “Thank you,” you repeat, your world blurring at the edges as you sink deeper into submission, pleasure welling at the base of your spine.

Matty delivers two more hits, blurted gratitude falling from your lips each time. The pain swirls in your veins and clouds your mind, tangling with the ecstasy that beats in your bloodstream. “Good girl. Took it so well, princess.” One of his hands comes up to paw at your tit, pinching your nipple gently through the thin lace.

“Want your cock, Daddy, please,” you whine, grinding back against him, the pressure on your clit barely relieving.

The sound of his belt unlatching, of a zipper sliding, makes your cunt clench with excitement, Matty’s quiet moan as he palms himself sweet in your ear. “So fucking wet, sweetheart. Such a dirty girl, getting soaked from a spanking.” His nails dig into your hips. “My dirty girl.”

“Yours,” you whimper, breaking into a moan as he finally thrusts into you, burying himself in one stroke. “All yours, Daddy.” You roll your hips back against him, clenching your cunt as he fucks you, heat blooming under your skin with every deep thrust.

Matty grips your hips, sharp points of pain digging into your skin, the sensation warming into pleasure that vibrates at the base of your skull. Thought evades you, Matty slamming into you so hard that thought evades you, liquid pleasure dripping over your brain. Uninhibited moans flow freely from your lips and his, the sounds melting with the wet, obscene sounds of sex in a lewd melody you wish you could save and listen to on repeat. “So beautiful like this, angel. Can’t even fucking think, can you? Just wanna be a pretty little hole for me, huh?”

His words wash over you, cunt clenching pathetically around him. “‘M just your toy, Daddy,” you choke out, struggling to pull the words from your hazy, staticky mind. Euphoria coils low in your stomach, hot and tense where you drip against Matty’s cock. You widen your legs in a desperate attempt to urge him deeper, pleasure thick and sticky in your lungs as you gasp for breath.

“Love fucking you like this, baby. That pretty cunt all stretched out around me. Fucking made to take my cock, yeah?” he praises, kissing over your neck, biting bruises into the sensitive flesh. You whine, the mark of his ownership over you stretching warm under your skin. 

His hips never slow, keeping a brutal but measured pace, designed to pull you close to the edge without letting you fall. He holds you there torturously, dangling your orgasm in front of you like Tantalus’ fruit as you moan softly. Ecstasy thrums heavy between your thighs, tension agonisingly close to breaking. “Please, Daddy. Wanna cum,” you whine.

“You think you deserve it?” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, the words curling through you, the implication sending a pulse of dread through you. “You want Daddy to make you cum, angel?”

You whimper, legs weak and trembling, clenching your cunt around him helplessly. “Yes. Been a good girl, Daddy. I want it so bad. Please,” you beg, a broken moan falling from your lips as Matty’s fingers find your clit, pleasure building endless under your skin.

“Made for this, hm? Made to be my girl, take care of my house so I can come home and only care about getting you all cockdrunk and happy, yeah?” He pinches your clit, the sensation spiralling gloriously up your spine. “Go on, darling, cum all over Daddy’s cock,” he orders, one final rough circle over your clit breaking you.

Sparks explode behind your lids, your vision whiting out as your orgasm slams into you, heat soaking into your bones as arousal floods out of you. Matty fucks you through, hips bucking against yours with abandon, wild as he edges closer. Moaning incoherently, you ride out the sensation, taking everything he gives you eagerly.

Coming down from your high, you whine as his hips slow. “Want you to keep going, Daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you moan, turning your head to look up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

He laughs softly, a filthy smirk pulling at his lips. “That right, baby?” he murmurs, pace speeding, your body simply a vessel dragged along for the ride. “Want me to fuckin’ stuff you full, fuck you so hard I put a baby in you?” You moan wantonly, overstimulation driving you wild. “Fuck, can feel how much you want that. Fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight, darling. ‘M close,” he promises, still in that same, punishing rhythm. With a final groan, he spills inside of you, painting your walls white as he pumps you full.

The sound as he pulls out of you is obscene, your body going limp as it finally relaxes. Then, Matty’s fingers brush over your dripping hole, and it flutters under your touch. You whimper something incoherent, and he croons softly. “Just a little more, if you’re up for it, princess. Need to fuck it back into you, nice and deep so it takes, yeah?”

Your legs turn to jelly, a flood of heat rushing through you. “Please,” you moan, whimpering as the tips of Matty’s fingers stroke over your cunt, gathering up his cum before he presses it back into you. You take him in greedily, the stretch familiarly gorgeous as he thrusts his fingers into you, slow and deep.

“That’s it, baby. Look at you, taking Daddy’s cum like a good girl.” Pleasure builds in your chest, slow-moving as it absorbs you and you let yourself fall into the sensation. “Gonna cum again, darling?” You nod powerlessly, words failing you. “Cum for me, sweet girl,” Matty says, urging instead of ordering, but it works the same. Your cunt throbs around his fingers, the second orgasm less intense, soft bliss washing over you as Matty slips his fingers out of you. You watch, eyes lidded, as he cleans his fingers, sucking the combined taste of you off his fingers with a moan. “You feeling good?” he asks, gently flipping you around to face him, holding you steady as your legs go weak.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur, gazing up at him adoringly.

“Anything for you, angel. C’mere, let me take my wife to bed.” He gathers you in his arms, picking you up bridal style and letting you curl into his chest. No matter how many times you hear it, Matty calling you my wife always brings a smile to your face.

“Love you,” you murmur, gazing sweetly up at him.

“I love you, princess.”

[nevvdrinksteaa]

favors pt. i

~~~

i think that this sounded better in my head, but i went ahead and wrote it anyways because i really couldn’t stop thinking about it. also kinda leaned into the horny vibe i was feeling, i’ve never written smut but i’ve read a lot and i think i could do it lmao

~~~

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

prompt: idea from sweet child o’ mine @macfrog (it’s amazing i suggest you read it)

you’re abby’s babysitter and mike can’t pay you just quite yet and he asks if he can do anything for you in return and you mention that you need a date to your brother’s wedding.

warnings: uhmm fluff, angst, suggestive content, i think that’s it, let me know if i missed something!

word count: 1.7k

PART TWO HERE

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

Waking up from your uncomfortable position on the couch, you heard the rain pattering on the window. The cold air suddenly swarming your body as you woke from your slumber. You reach over and tap your phone on the coffee table, watching the screen light up and checking the time. 5:48 AM Mike should be home in about 30 minutes. You reluctantly decided to slowly remove the blanket, standing up and reaching your hands in the air, stretching your stiff body as much as humanly possible.

You decided to help Mike and start cleaning up the mess you and Abby made from your activities. You start picking up the crayons, markers, and pencils and place them in the pink basket you picked out for Abby hours before coming over, smiling at how she colored in the paper hearts that were stuck to the sides, picking up the loose paper and sticking it in a neat pile on the desk on the dining table for Abby to use when she wakes up. You walk directly towards the hallway, taking clothes from the hamper and starting a load of laundry. Softly chuckling to yourself about how manly the laundry detergent Mike picked out smelled, you filled up the cap with the green goop and threw it in the washer.

Mike walked through the door as you were finishing up the dishes, drying off the big bowls you and Abby used to make brownies. He kicked his shoes off by the door and placed his keys on the little hook above the light switch. He looked at you for a few moments, taking in how cute you looked dancing to the soft music that came from your phone, how pretty your hair looked slightly knotted from your nap on the couch, the shorts you were wearing creeping up your legs with every step you take.

Mike loved watching you, in the least creepy way possible. He adored everything about you, taking the little extra time he had to notice things he never had any interest in noticing in anyone else before. You were so different and he was so infatuated, interested in getting to know you, getting to know your interests, getting to know your body. He thought about you constantly, something about you made him feel like a teenage boy. He was deep in thought when you turned around, yelping when you noticed him staring at you.

“You want to take a picture? Some people say they last longer” you say smirking, crossing your arms at the brown-eyed boy.

He chuckled softly at your flirtatious comment, a light pink dusting spreading across his tired face, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were listening to music and didn’t hear me come in.”

“It’s okay, I was just finishing up some dishes, I didn’t think it would’ve been fair to leave you with the brownie mess” His ears perked up with excitement “You made brownies?”

He faked surprise, ‘Of course, you made brownies’. You were always doing extra things, it was his favorite thing about you, always doing the most and expecting nothing in return.

You grabbed a brownie for yourself before sliding the plate over to the pretty boy. You stayed leaning against the island, smirking to yourself when you saw Mike's eyes dart to your chest.

“Abby and I made them, she said that she wanted to surprise you when you got off work”

“I swear that kid is only nice to me when you’re here,” he said, partially to you and partially to himself.

Rolling your eyes “You know that isn’t true, she adores you”

“I would strongly disagree, She told me I was the ‘dumbest person ever’ when I told her she needed to eat more than just spaghetti and pizza”

“To her defense, she ate brownies today, that's more than spaghetti and pizza”

“I cannot believe you would rather agree with a 10 year old than me” He put a hand over his heart, sighing heavily to show he was hurt by your words. “I always knew you liked Abby more than me.”

You looked at him, eyes wide at his comment. “Sorry, I thought it was clear that I liked her more than you” you paused, for dramatic effect “I never tried to keep it a secret.”

He laughs grabbing a second brownie, and moving away from the kitchen island toward the couch. “You coming?”

“I could be” you winked, smirking at him. He shook his head, thinking of all of the ways and positions he really could make you cum.

You start to follow him, scolding yourself for flirting with him, staying behind for a few seconds to click the lid back on the Tupperware container.

You walk around to the left side of the couch, opposite to where Mike was sitting. After your comment, you got nervous, thinking you pushed it too far. You started noticing the quietness that suddenly arose and not knowing what to say to make things less awkward.

Mike was the first to break the silence, “How was she today?”

“She was good, I was able to pull her away from her drawings long enough to watch a movie. We watched Coco and the end made her cry, then she called me a monster for making her watch it and walked right back to the bedroom to color” You giggle at the memory of the evening you had with the younger sibling.

“Sounds like Abby” Mike sighed “At least she’s warming up to you enough to sit and watch a movie with you, I can’t remember the last time we sat down for a movie”

You grabbed his hand, noticing the sadness that started to form on his face. “You know she loves you, she talks about you constantly, you’re front and center of every one of her drawings. You’re her favorite person”

He smiled softly at your kind words, grateful to have you there to comfort him. “Thank you”

“Of course, that’s what I'm here for”

“Technically you're here because you babysit my sister, but it does make me feel good to think that you’re here only for me”

“Yeah yeah Schmidt, keep telling yourself that”

“Speaking of” Mike trailed off, “It’s going to be just a little bit longer before I can pay you, the new job doesn’t offer insurance so I have to pay for everything out of pocket and Abby was just sick-” You cut him off

“Mike you know I’m not worried about it” he sighed and you could tell by the look on his face that he was still bothered by not being able to pay her.

It had been three weeks since you started babysitting for Mike, coming early to help him make dinner before he leaves for work and staying late to get Abby dressed and feeding her before driving her to school so Mike could get more than an hour of sleep.

You enjoyed helping Mike and loved taking care of Abby, you were the oldest child in your family, so you were used to caring for people.

Mike hated it, it made him feel so guilty. He felt like he was taking advantage of your kindness, promising you every day that it would be only a little bit longer before he could pay you.

“You know, if you feel bad you could just repay me with a favor”

Mike perked up. His mind was filling with ideas of what could fall out of your pretty little lips. He would do anything you asked him to, make you dinner, give you a massage, eat you out for hours and hours. ‘God, why was he suddenly so horny?’

“What kind of favor are you thinking?” slightly squeezing his hand that was placed across your soft thighs. As soon as the words came out of his mouth he felt like a cheap whore, suddenly nervous that he was coming onto you so strong and you wouldn’t reciprocate.

“As tempting as this favor is,” you say placing a hand on his chest “I was thinking something else”

He was suddenly so embarrassed. He quickly pulled his hand away, placing it in his lap, and looking away from your beautiful face. You felt bad seeing a pitiful look on his face, hurting Mike’s feelings was the last thing you wanted to do.

“My brother is getting married in two weeks and I need a date.” He was ecstatic, pushing his horny feelings aside, he could picture it in his head; you two hand in hand, his tie matching your dress, sharing a kiss after your first slow dance-

“My boyfriend has a work conference and he has to be at” You have a boyfriend? “and my family is so annoying if I know if I come without a date, all they would do is tell me that I’m wasting my life away and I’m going to forever be so lonely and-” You have a boyfriend? How could he not know that?

“Mike, are you listening to me? If you’re uncomfortable pretending to be my boyfriend then I could always ask someone else”

“I’ll do it” Against his better judgment, he agrees, hoping that something could come out of it

“Really? Oh my god, thank you so much!” You lean over and hug him “You’re really saving my ass”

“Anything to help” he laughs, trying to make it seem like you didn’t just stab him in the chest with a casual mention of your boyfriend.

Suddenly, your alarm goes off and you pull away from the hug. Mike felt cold at the loss of contact.

“It’s 7:30, you should get to bed” you state standing up from your spot on the couch “I’ll get Abby ready from school so you can catch up on some sleep, I’ll text you the details of the wedding after I drop her off”

Mike watched as you walked away, feeling like he just got punched in the gut. You didn’t feel the way he did and god that was embarrassing. He never had time to even think about a relationship and the first time in a long time he does, the girl in question has a boyfriend.

Mike let out a deep sigh and got up, heading towards his bedroom ready to close his eyes and forget about the miserable conversation. As he walks past Abby’s room he notices you crouched beside her bed, softly shaking her awake.

Fake boyfriend or not, at least he knows he won’t be pretending about his feelings for you to your family.

[star-writes-sometimes]

green butter

word count - 2.2k

c.w. - drug use (marijuana, edibles), reader is said to be shorter than remus, idiots in love, pining, implied insecure reader

a/n - i don’t know if i liked how this turned out so i may rewrite and change the ending idk yet

—

you could hear remus snoring from where you were in the kitchen. the rest of your apartment was silent except for the soft snores. if you ever tried to mention it when he was awake, remus would always deny that he made any kind of noise when he slept, instead choosing to tease you about your habit of sleep talking when you’ve had too much to drink.

you were doing the dishes, cleaning up from making green butter earlier in the day. remus had been out the night before with sirius and james and he was exhausted. he was in your apartment for less than 10 minutes before he passed out on your couch.

you finished cleaning the last mixing bowl and left it on the drying rack. you dried your hands on a tea towel, threw it over your shoulder and made your way to your living room. you collapsed on the comfy armchair closest to the kitchen and simply watched remus sleep. 

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over so you could no longer see his face. you huffed in annoyance and used your sock covered foot to reach out and poke his shoulder.

“wake up please lupin.”

he just groaned and shifted tiredly. 

“pleaaaseeee.”

he exhaled sharply and lifted his head up, his annoyed gaze meeting your amused one.

“good morning starshine. the earth says hello!”

“i prefer gene wilder.” remus runs a hand over his scarred face.

“i like ‘em both,” you moved to tuck your feet under you, “makes me feel bad choosing between two things.”

“really?” he smirked, “who do you prefer out of james and sirius?”

“well currently sirius cause he helped me do my makeup a few days ago but it changes depending on which one annoys me less.”

“good choice. james probably would’ve poked your eye out.” he finally sat up, smiling lazily at you, “whats the time?”

“it’s around five so you successfully napped through the afternoon.”

“good that was the aim.” remus stretched, lifting his shirt up slightly, exposing his happy trail.

“do you want dinner, love?”

“no thanks, bunny, but i’ll take some cookies if you’ve got any.”

“i actually need to make some for james and i was gonna make extra,” you paused to yawn, “but i seemed to have misplaced my motivation.”

“aww c’mon bunny,” he got off the couch and knelt in front of your chair, “please make some cookies.”

you tried desperately not to give into his masterful puppy dog eyes, “i thought you were too tired to do anything.”

“i had my nap, now i want time with my super awesome amazing girl who makes the most awesome amazing oatmeal weed cookies.” he pouted up at you, pulling you hand towards him and kissing it, “please baby?”

your resolve couldn’t crumble quicker, “fine, move you big lug i’ll go get started.”

you pushed him aside and walked back into the kitchen while remus trailed behind you closely.

"rem love, can you grab the sugar please?" you asked while pulling the eggs and butter.

"mhmm." he hummed in response.

you grabbed the vanilla extract and a bowl and started to cut up the butter into cubes.

remus came up behind you and placed the sugar on the counter then wrapped his arms around you. 

"ooo green butter," he placed his chin onto your shoulder, pressing into you completely.

"yeah i made it earlier." 

remus reached his hand around a grabbed a cube and quickly popped it in his mouth, "tastes great, bunny."

you swatted him on the side, "don't eat the butter."

"hey that's abuse." he grabbed another bit of butter and popped it into his mouth.

"remus if you eat the butter you'll get high before the cookies are even ready."

"no i won't," he ate another cube, "i'm not a lightweight like you."

"i'm not saying you're a lightweight, love."

he reached for another piece of butter but you slapped his hand before he could grab it.

"whats with all the abuse today?" he asked.

"go sit down and stop eating butter," you pointed to one of the kitchen stools on the other side of the bench you were working at.

remus watched you intently as you made the cookies. whenever you turned your back momentarily though, he would reach across and sneak another cube of the homemade butter.

eventually, once you got the first batch of cookies in the oven you start to clean up, including putting away all the ingredients.

“rem?” 

“hmmm?”

“did you eat more butter?”

“you have no proof of that.”

“i made 500g of butter. i used 250g. there should be 250g left. this isn't 250g.”

“how can you tell that just by looking at it?”

“remus i'm a baker. i do this professionally.”

remus smiled guiltily, “whoops? i’m sorry i’ll help you make more butter tomorrow” 

“rem, i couldn't give less of a fuck about the butter, i’m worried about how high you're about to get.”

“i told you, i am not a lightweight i'm not gonna get high off some butter.”

you roll your eyes and finish cleaning up the kitchen, “whatever you say remsy.”

—

forty two minutes later and remus was face down on your kitchen floor.

he groaned loudly as you took the third batch of cookies out of the oven. the room already smelled of a pleasant mix of weed and fresh baked cookies but opening the oven intensified it, hurting remus' already sore brain.

“it's cold, my face is cold, it's on something cold, the room smells, smells like a headache.” he babbled, voice muffled slightly by the ground.

“you are face first on the tiles, that's why your face is cold and the headache you smell is weed."

“ngh, no,” he protested and rolled over onto his back, “weed smells like awesome and this is a headache smell, are you baking a headache?”

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you look down at his confused face, “you've overdone it, remmy.”

“noooo,” he whined and covered his face, “‘m not a lightweight.”

“you're not, darling,” you cooed and sat down on the floor next to him. you gently ran your hand through his hair.

he opened his eyes at the touch but immediately hissed and squinted, “bright light, there's a real bright light, i think i'm dying.”

you looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh, “that's the kitchen light, and the dying feeling is, once again, the weed.”

he rapidly sat up after you said that and stared at you intensely, “the weed is doing this to me?”

you couldn't help the giggle that slipped through, “yes, love.”

he looked very serious and glared at the ground before he muttered, “that fuckin' giraffe was right.”

it was your turn to be confused, “giraffe- do you mean harold?”

“that scary fucker was right.”

“you were scared of harold the giraffe?”

“he was tall and i couldn't trust his eyes.” he said with such a strong gaze you almost forgot how ridiculous the conversation was, “is he coming to take me?”

“h-harold? you think harold is coming to take you?”

“yeah, i broke his rules, i did drugs and now i'm paying the price, he's gonna come for me.”

you turned your head to laugh silently, not wanting to mock him (while he was like this, you were definitely mocking him in the morning), “love, harold won't come for you, and even if he did you're not a kid anymore, you're tall too.”

he nodded, like he understood, “yeah i’m tall, i could take that skinny twat.” he nodded, seemingly calm. until he once again jolted and looked at you extremely seriously, “you're short.”

“thank you for noticing rem,” you said, slightly sarcastically.

“harold will come for you because he knows i care about you. he'll take you from me.” he said in a panicky tone.

your touched by his care for you but also recognise the absurdity of what he's saying, “remmy, i promise i’m safe, i'm here with you.”

he gave you a look of determination and nodded. as quick as he could in his intoxication he wrapped his arms around your middle and re-laid down on the floor with you. 

“remmy, what are you doing?” you asked, curious, not bothered by his actions.

“protecting you.” he said, voice muffled from where it was buried in your neck.

“hmm thank you,” you hummed out.

he held on tightly and quietly sat there holding you for a few blissful minutes, but the biting cold of the tiles wasn't the most comfortable in the february weather.

“remus, lovie?”

he tapped you as his way of responding, not loosening his grip.

“can we go to bed?”

he squeezed you tighter, “‘m not tired and i need to protect you.”

“i'm tired baby,” you said with a slight breathy laugh.

“i need you to be safe,” he mumbled against your neck.

“we'll stay together the whole time.”

“promise?” he said softly.

“pinky promise.”

at that he slowly rolled off of you but he made sure his hand was touching some part of you at all time - like he was scared you would disappear.

you went to your bedroom with remus following close behind, your fingers tightly threaded together. when you both stopped, remus re-wrapped his arms around you tightly, his large hands going underneath your loose tshirt.

“rem,” you whined softly, “what are you doing now?”

“‘m not close enough to you, need to get closer,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head.

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t think we can get much closer than this.”

“sure we can bunny,” he said with a hint of mischief in his tone, “we can be much closer,”

“we already see each other everyday, spend most of our free time together, and-” his thumb rubbed against your ribs causing you to giggle slightly, “and that. how much closer can we be?”

you looked up at him just in time to see his smirk. he pressed a kiss to your temple and used his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “nowhere near close enough,” he said softly and kissed your cheek.

you held your breath. his touch made you shiver. your skin erupted in goosebumps and you leaned closer to him. he gripped your chin and looked into your eyes.

his eyes were bloodshot.

he was high.

you stepped back slightly at the reminder. you grabbed his hands in your own and led him towards your bed, “c’mon rem, bedtime.”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, “what? bunny, i want us to be closer.”

“you’re high, love, you’ll feel different in the morning,” you said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“no, i won’t, why do you never believe me?” he asked.

“because you only say this stuff when you’re high.”

he slumped over with his forehead resting on your shoulder, “‘m not saying it cause i’m high, the high makes me say the truth.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled away from him. you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you. he smiled dopily and sat next to you. as soon as he sat he feel backwards, laying on your bed and groaning slightly.

you let out a breathy laugh and shook your head, “you can’t even sit up.”

“you keep me stable.”

“i’m also the one enabling your edible addiction.”

“it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling me ‘cause you always take care of me.”

you laid down next to him and face him. he clumsily pulled the blanket over you both and let his hand rest of the side of your face.

“my pretty little bunny, i’ll make you believe me one day,” he promised. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close.

you looked at his pretty face, his messy sandy blonde hair, his bloodshot eyes. you wished you could believe him. you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. you could at least pretend.

he kissed your cheek and held you tightly, “nice and close bunny, i gotta protect you and make you feel loved.”

you melt into him and laugh softly, “protect me?”

“don’t know if that giraffe is comin’ for us.”

“well we can’t have that now can we.”

it was silent for a few moments.

“what do giraffe’s eat?”

“mostly leaves i think, why, love?”

“i don’t like being scared that you’ll be hurt, we should set a trap tomorrow.”

“for harold?”

“yes, you can bake something and i’ll construct a gaint moustrap for the slimy fucker.”

you tried desperately to keep your giggles to yourself, “that’s a job for the morning.”

“i know, you go to sleep, bunnies need lots of rest.”

“goodnight remmy.”

“goodnight bunny.” he kissed your cheek again, “love you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, “love you too.”

you could pretend it was real.

[fandomunite2107]

Help Wanted (Pt. 2)

Summary: Carmy not liking the idea of you working somewhere else.

Pulling into a parking spot at the restaurant, both you and Carmy unbuckle your seatbelts. You leave your groceries on the floorboard of his car, but take your bag as you open the door to his car.

“I just need to take care of something really quick. Shouldn’t be long.” Carmy says as he opens and holds the door to the restaurant for you.

“No rush. Take your time.” You say as you enter through the back of the building. Once you are inside you see Richie with a couple of other people standing around the kitchen.

Richie notices you first. “Hey kid. Didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” Everyone turns to look to see who he is talking to and you smile and do a small wave. Richie then looks at Carmy with a smirk. “What’s got you two hanging out with each other?”

“Shut up Richie.” Carmy says. “Y/n, this is Sydney and this is my sister Nat.” He nods in the direction of each woman. “You already know my asshole cousin over there.”

“I’m not an asshole, you’re an asshole. You’re the one who fired the girl today.” Richie says.

“Wait, you worked here?” Sydney asked looking confused.

“For about an hour before I realized that the job didn’t exist.” Nat and Sydney looked at you as you continued. “Richie hired me without talking to Carmy about it.”

They both reply at the same time with a chorus of “Oh, yeah that tracks” and “Figures.”

Carmy runs his hand through his hair. “Alright, that’s enough. Syd, what’s the issue with the menu?”

“Might as well follow me to the office. Once they get started on that damn thing it takes forever for them to take a break.” Nat says to you as she starts to walk away. Following her into the office, you take a look around and see piles of papers on every surface, even the floor. “How good are you at organizing?” She asks as she takes a seat on the floor next to one of the larger stacks of papers.

“Honestly, I’m pretty amazing at it. I find it kind of soothing.” You say as you place your bag on an almost empty area of the desk and take a seat next to her.

After going through one of the stacks of papers together, you stretch your arms above your head and move your shoulders around. “It doesn’t even look like we made a dent.”

Nat stands up and looks around. “I actually think it multiplied.” She holds her hand out to help you stand. Looking at the time, you realize that it is much later than you thought. “You want a ride home? I think they’re still working.” Nat offers.

“I’d appreciate that.” You grab your bag from the desk and follow Nat back to the kitchen, where you see Carmy cutting up some vegetables.

“Hey Bear. I’m going to head out and take y/n home. Where’s Syd?” Nat asks as she digs through her bag pulling out a set of keys.

“Shit. Didn’t know it’s this late.” He glances at the clock and puts his knife down on the cutting board. “Syd. She had to take my car and go pick up her dad.” Carmy looks at you and runs his hand through his already messed up hair. “S-Sorry. I lost track of time. Syd should be back soon and I can take you home.”

“It’s fine.” You try to hold back a sigh. It’s not fine. Your groceries were in his car, a car that is no longer here. It could be worse you thought, at least you don’t have to walk home in the dark.

“Don’t stay too late Carm. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Nat looks at you and asks if you’re ready to go.

“Sure. Bye Carmy.” You give a small wave, which he returns with a nod, and follow Nat out the building.

After giving directions to Nat on how to get your apartment, it doesn’t take very long to get to your building. You thank her for the ride and walk up the stairs. Once you reach your apartment and walk in, you take off your shoes and lay your bag down. It has been a long day, and you are exhausted. Slipping into some pajamas, you plug your phone in and turn off the lamp on the night stand before crawling into bed. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

With the sun coming through the curtains you just bought, you wake up glancing at the clock. Knowing that you have things you want to get done today, you shower and get dressed for the day. Remembering that you still don’t have your groceries, you go to the cafe that you went to yesterday. With your bank account in mind you only order a pastry and a drink, which you eat at a table as you people watch. Once you have finished your breakfast, you open up your bag to find your list of things to do. Finding a part time job is still on there, and you decide that is where you are going to start today. Walking out of the cafe, you see a bulletin board by the door with a variety of papers advertising jobs pinned. Most of them are for restaurants or local bars. Taking a picture of some of the papers, you notice that one restaurant isn’t too far from here. Deciding to check that one out, knowing that you don’t have any experience in the food industry, but hoping that they’re desperate enough to hire you.

After walking a couple of blocks you arrive at the restaurant, not knowing if the place is open yet you try the door. When it opens and you walk in the entrance, not seeing anyone around. “Hello?” You call out.

“One moment.” You hear someone shout out to you, appearing a moment later. “Hi. What can I do for you?”

“I’m y/n. I saw an ad that you were hiring. I was hoping to get an application.” You say as you hold your hand out to shake.

“I’m not the manager, but I will tell you we are doing open interviews later on tonight from 5-7. If you’re interested, I will tell you that there is a uniform that you have to wear. It’s also encouraged to wear it during the interview. It’s free to take it and if you don’t get the job you just have to return it, if you don’t you pay for it.” She says.

Not entirely sure how you feel about a uniform and not knowing what it looks like, you decide that it’s worth a shot “I’ll be here. Do you have a uniform that I can get?”

A phone rings from the back. “I gotta take that. The uniforms are in the closet over there help yourself to your size. Fill out this form and be here between 5-7.” She says as she walks off handing you a form.

Opening the closet that she pointed out to you, you see dozen of hangers with the restaurant’s uniform. Finding your size and picking it up, you think that it could be worse. The skirt looks short and the top seems like it would barely cover anything, but it’s not the worse thing you have ever worn for a job. Taking the clothes and putting them in your bag, you head back to your apartment to work on a few items before the interview later.

About an hour before the interview you start to get ready, you do your hair and put on some make up along with the uniform. As you predicted, it’s a bit short and the top barely just contains everything. You could just bring the uniform to the restaurant and change before the interview, but what if there isn’t time and what if everyone who’s applying already has it on. You feel safer just wearing it to the interview. Not really wanting to walk the few blocks dressed in this uniform you put a coat on, even though you’ll be warm, you at least feel more covered. Making sure you have everything, you grab your bag and start to head out of your apartment building.

As you shut the main door to your apartment building and start to go down the front steps, you see Carmy getting out of his car.

“Carmy?”

“Uh. H-hi. I asked Nat where you lived. Hope you don’t mind. I wanted to drop off your groceries from yesterday.”

“O-oh. Um. Thank you. I appreciate that.” You walk closer to his car.

He opens the passenger door and takes the bags out. You go to grab the bags from him but he refuses.

“I got this. Just lead the way.” He says.

Not wanting to be rude. You thank him and walk him up to your apartment. Having done the stairs twice now in your coat, you are starting to get warm. Opening the door to your apartment you both walk in. Carmy places the bags on the kitchen counter and wipes his forehead.

“I’m not sure how you’re walking around in a coat. It’s fucking hot out today.” Carmy says looking at you, wiping his forehead.

“Oh. Well trust me I’m warm. I have an interview soon and the uniform I have to wear isn’t the best.” You say a bit embarrassed.

Carmy smirks. “You’re wearing a coat in this weather because you don’t like your uniform. It can’t be that bad. Show me.”

Not sure how you ended up in this situation, you unbutton the coat. “I need a job so don’t laugh.” You take the coat off and place it on the counter. Standing in front of Carmy in your uniform you feel too exposed. You look up at Carmy because he hadn’t said anything yet. He’s just staring at you. You start to ramble. “I found an ad today about this restaurant that was hiring so I went there after breakfast. The lady there said that they were doing open interviews today. She said that it was encouraged to wear the uniform to the interview.”

“No.” It was the only word that left his mouth.

“I’m sorry?”

“You are not wearing that.” He rubs his hand down his face.

“It’s not that bad.” You turn around in a circle. “Plus, I do need this job.”

“We’ll find you another job. I’ll find the money to hire you.”

“You don’t even know me. Why are concerned with where I work?”

“Just go change.” He’s pinching his nose. “Please.”

“Carmy. I appreciate that you brought my groceries here and are concerned where I work, but you did fire me yesterday. So I don’t think that I should be passing up a job opportunity based on you not liking a uniform.” You say as you put the coat back on, feeling exposed and embarrassed by his reaction.

“Y/n. Nat told me you were a teacher. You really thinks it’s the best move for you to be dressed like that when a parent shows up to that restaurant?”

“I-I.” You sigh, knowing that he’s right, but you’re getting a bit desperate at the moment. “Good point. I just need something. Preferably one that doesn’t require this much skin.” You look down at your uniform as you open up the coat.

Carmy coughs and his cheeks turn a shade of pink. “I’ll move things around and make it work at the restaurant. Nat said you were good with the paperwork.”

“You promise not to fire me within the first hour?” You smile up at him.

“I promise. Now go burn that uniform.”

You start to walk toward the bedroom to go change into something else. “I have to bring it back to the restaurant or I get charged for it.”

“Jesus. I will pay for it so you don’t have to go back there.”

Looking over your shoulder at Carmy you smile. “Hey Carmy.”

“Yeah?” He looks back at you.

“Thank you. For the job, for everything.”

He nods and points to the bedroom. “Go change.”

——————

Possibly another part?

—————

Taglist: @anelissegets @onlyreadz @iletmytittietitty-russ

[buckyalpine]

Live Stream

18+ Minors dni

Bucky x f reader, reader x avengers (platonic) 

A/N: My first piece of writing ever for the lovely @buckies-dolle’s writing challenge. I had so much fun with this!! I know its not amazing, I had 100 ideas I wanted to add. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Also please leave all the comments, would love to know what you think 💕🥺

Prompt: 29. Please what baby 

Warnings: Smutty smut (voyeurism, daddy kink, lil choking, breeding kink, unprotected sex) swearing, some angst (flashback with sad Bucky), Fluff! 

Word count: 6.7k It’s so long. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t stop.

“Okay, seriously where the hell are they?”  Tony paced around the room, having lost contact with you and Bucky for over 12 hours. The mission was simple; retrieve a few files from an old inactive Hydra base, something you had done many times before. However, the long period of radio silence was starting to worry the team as they sat together watching the now blank screen that was previously sharing a live feed from the mission.

“Y/n’s done this before; she knows what she’s doing. The base is inactive anyway, I’m sure they’ve already finished and made it back to the safe house” Steve said but it was more to himself. He couldn’t help the anxiety that kept gnawing at the back of his mind thinking about Bucky. Even though Hydra no longer had any control over him, he worried for his best friend every time a mission involved the fucking group.

“They’ll be fine, they’ve never had any issues on missions before” Nat chimed in, though she also started to feel uneasy wondering if you were both okay.

“I know she can handle herself but the poor thing is stuck alone with tin man” Tony scoffed.

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “And that’s a problem because…?”

“Because y/n speaks like 3 words a year and all cyborg does is grunt and stare. This is their first mission partnered together and they go missing. Fantastic” Tony glared at the screen as if giving it the stink eye would force it to reconnect to the feed.

“We’ll try reaching them in an hour, their phones are probably dead” Steve sighed, getting up to stretch from the seat he sat in for the last 3 hours.  You were the newest agent to join the team just over two years ago. Highly skilled and an excellent assassin though initially, Tony had his doubts when Steve brought you in.

Flashback – 2 years ago

“I want to trust your word capsicle but I don’t see killer assassin. She looks like one of those dwarf bunnies Thor keeps insisting we get”

You were sitting outside of Tony’s lab anxiously picking at your nail polish. Steve was excited to introduce you to the team, knowing you’d be an excellent recruit but it would take some convincing.

“I promise she knows what she’s doing when she’s on the field, that’s when it matters, right?”

All it took was one mission for Tony to quickly backtrack on his words.

“How the hell did you manage to take them all down without making a sound?” Tony said, eyes wide as he saw 6 hydra guards slumped by the door while you wiped the blood from the knife onto your tactical pants.

“I’m just really quiet” you said with a small shy smile, quickly retreating down the hall to take up a new position.

On the field you showed nothing but blood lust. Every move was quick and calculated, wasting no time in taking down targets while lurking silently in the shadows. Outside of the field, you were completely different. You didn’t do great with large social gatherings but you were an excellent listener when someone needed to vent. Your skills also meant you were quick to notice people’s changes in mood and behavior. You noted exactly what they’d look for when they needed comfort. It made it easy for you to quietly take care of others, something you loved to do and they loved you for it. Peter enjoyed having someone who understood all his pop culture references. Nat and Wanda were ecstatic to have another girl join the team. Tony smiled every time he woke up in his lab to a cup of coffee made exactly how he liked. You had Sam’s heart the day you made beignets. Over the past two years, the team grew protective over you.

Present

“Which safe house did you put them in anyway?” Sam asked, now also starting to feel uneasy having not heard from you in so long.

“I actually put them in the Motel that’s half way between the base and city. Thought it would be more comfortable for them if they had separate rooms” Tony shrugged, having stopped pacing and now glancing at a gadget he had sitting on the table. “There are also trackers in their phones but they’re useless unless the phones are turned on. Both of their trackers are offline right now”.

“Is there really no way for us to contact them?” Steve was on edge now, thinking about how Bucky would be handling staying in a room alone after visiting a hydra base. Did they even make it back to their rooms yet?

“I mean there is one way for us to check on them but I didn’t want to do that unless they were definitely in danger” Tony said, now fiddling with a small gadget he had sitting on the table. “I had a few cameras installed in some of the safe houses and places we go to after missions just to be safe. I can hook this up and we’ll be able to see everything live in their rooms”.

“Tony!” Nat smacked his arm. “Were you ever going to tell us you had creeper cameras set up?”

“It’s not for creeping; I just didn’t want a repeat from when Cap, Peter and Bird brain over here compromised the safe house. We didn’t have eyes on anyone, got lucky Thunder was able to help them”.

“I told you I got bad vibes from the hostage” Peter groaned, recalling the failed mission where Loki had managed to infiltrate the group, posing as their captured Hydra agent.

“Number one, what does that even mean. Number two, it was supposed to be a hydra agent, obviously these so called vibes you are referring to would have been bad” Sam said, with exasperation in his voice. “If you spoke like a normal person and said hey I think this guy isn’t actually the one we were supposed to capture, maybe we wouldn’t have been compromised”.

“ANYWAY, the system can only be accessed from the compound,” Tony took the gadget he was fiddling with and plugged it into the computer.  “This controls all the cameras, FRIDAY can you pinpoint their coordinates and feed it to the computer. Sam, get redwing ready in case this doesn’t work”.

Sam left the room and the team anxiously gathered around the screen, as it started loading. Two room numbers appeared on the screen; one for you and the other Bucky’s.  At this point Steve was practically breathing down Tony’s neck hoping to see you both safe and sound. He felt a pang of guilt knowing he was the one to bring you to the team and if something ever happened to you- “Alright, check y/n’s room first”.

“It’s empty…”

“What do you mean empty?” The air in the room grew thick, laced with anxiety.

“You’re looking at the same thing I’m looking at Rogers, its empty. No one’s there, doesn’t even look like anyone’s stepped in the room. Where the fuck would she be?” Tony was close to putting on his suit and going to your location directly instead of waiting any longer. Suddenly one of the tracker screens flashed a green light beside Bucky’s name. “Wait, Bucky’s phone tracker is back online. Cap, call Barnes”.

The phone rang for ages until an out of breath Bucky picked up.

“H-hello?” “Bucky, where are you, where is y/n, did you guys make it to the rooms safely?”

“Steve? Y-yeah made it a few h-hours ago.  Uh should be in her r-room- ah. Probably tired from the m-mission. Didn’t talk to h-her”

“Why do you sound like that, if you’ve been injured we can send for extraction immediately, is y/n okay?”

“Nonono its fine uh- fuck its nothing we’ll be- hng sorry. I’ll be fine. Y/ns probably fine, think she went for a walk, I’ll check, bye”  

The call ended abruptly, Steve looked dumbfounded at the group. “He hung up, he sounded off”. Some of his worries eased; Bucky sounded sort of okay but still no word about you.  Also why did he sound like he was out of breath if they made it to the motel hours ago? Something wasn’t adding up and he wasn’t about to take any chances trying to call Bucky again. “Okay fuck this, I don’t care about anyone’s privacy anymore, Tony just turn on the cameras for Bucky’s room”

“Language cap” Tony shook his head, clicking on Bucky’s room number; the screen lit up sharing the live feed from his motel room.

On the screen the team saw Bucky pounding you right against the wall, your arms and legs tightly wrapped around his waist, clinging onto him.

“D-d-daddy don’t fucking stop, please d-don’t stop oh my god B-Bucky!”

Bucky’s metal hand moved to close around your neck, squeezing at the sides as he groaned watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Yeah babydoll, you like that? You want me to keep filling you up, such a good little slut for me y/n fuuck” Bucky’s head fell onto the crook of your neck sucking dark bruises onto the sensitive skin.

“What the fuck are you guys wa- WOAH” Sam’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he returned back into the room to see Bucky’s large naked form on the screen, manhandle you against the wall, sweat glistening off his shoulders. Angry red lines littered his back from where you were gripping him, holding onto dear life.

Tony’s mouth dropped. Steve turned redder than he thought was humanly possible. Nat choked on the water she was drinking. Sam was thankfully quick enough to slap his hands over Peters eyes and ears before yelling at Tony to turn it off.

“OKAY, they’re CLEARLY more than okay, TONY TURN IT OFF!” “IM TRYING BUT ITS NOT WORKING!” “Seriously? Mr.  I have a custom fancy suit billionaire play boy genius can’t turn off a computer screen?!” “I never had to use this live stream system before! It’s not my fault just- okay this isn’t working. Everyone clear the room. Do not come near this place for the next hour. God I hope they stop within the next hour”

To say everyone was shocked was an understatement. Their y/n. Sweet, quiet, shy y/n wrapped around the super soldier, while he fucked her into oblivion.

Sam was the first to speak up. “This couldn’t have been their first time right? Like they looked- that is not how anyone’s first time together goes, when the hell have those two even spoken?! Steve, did you know anything about this? Also are we sure that was y/n? I need go to out and get some air; I’m going to need therapy after this”

“No, Bucky’s never mentioned anything before. Now that I think about it though, he did seem to be adjusting better over the last year but I didn’t think anything of it, just thought he was getting used to being free.”

“That was definitely y/n” Tony chimed in “How many other y/ns do you know, with y/c/h. I knew she was a freak on the field but I didn’t see this coming. Honestly, this raised my respect for Barnes, didn’t think he’d have it in him”.

Your salacious sounds and the sound of skin on skin slapping carried through the compound making it impossible for the team to ignore. Tony had a very obvious tent in his pants.

“OMG Tony” Steve hid his face in his hands as he saw Tony adjust himself.

“What do you want me to do capsicle, don’t act like your above getting a boner”

“I mean its’s…hot” Nat smirked, unable to ignore the sounds that continued to pour out from the surveillance room.

Bucky’s cock rammed into you at an indescribable pace, hitting that exact spot that made you cry out with each thrust. “So. Fucking. Tight.” His thrusts punctuated you with each word. “H-how are you still so tight after I’ve fucked you so many times, you fit so perfectly around me baby, could live in this pussy forever” he groaned into your neck.

“Need you daddy, need you so bad, m’ so close”, your whiny needy voice was music to Bucky’s ears as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You clung onto him, biting into his shoulders to try and keep your voice down but he made it impossible.

“Yeah baby, you gonna cum again? Can feel you squeezing me so tight holy fuck, make a mess on my cock” Bucky pulled his head away from the crook of your neck to look down at where you connected. He whimpered at the sight, his shaft completely covered in your slick, obscene sounds filling the room every time he fucked into you. “Be a good girl and cum baby, cum around my cock” He moved his hand to trail down between your bodies, pinching both your nipples before rubbing quick circles on your sensitive clit.

“I’m g-gonna- daddy I’m gonna cu-“Your words got cut off by your own climax unexpectedly hitting you hard and fast. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod”. Your vision blurred, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes at the force of your climax. You could no longer hear anything, the blood rushing through your ears over powering the sound of Bucky fucking you through your high, pressing down onto your clit to make it last as long as possible. He felt your walls squeeze and clench around him making his cock throb, momentarily stuttering in his pace as he felt his own climax starting to build up.

“Fuck you squirted, I can feel it d-dripping down to my balls, you’re so fucking perfect, taking my cock so well babydoll, think you can give me one more? Love the way your body feels baby, I need you to give me one more”

You had already cummed twice, oversensitive from the previous two orgasms Bucky gave you. As soon you reached the room, Bucky wasted no time ripping your clothes off and latching his mouth onto your clit.  His tongue swirled in circles, rutting his hard length onto the mattress to relieve some of the tension. You didn’t even bother checking into your assigned room. After the third climax, you were too far gone to hear anything Bucky was saying to you at this point, feeling limp in his arms, barely registering the bruising grip he had holding onto your ass and thighs. The sudden coolness of his metal hand slapping your check broke you out of your trance.

“Tell me you slut, or are you too cockdrunk over daddy’s cock to answer me”. His pace had slowed down to a slow grind pressing you hard against the wall, drinking in your fucked out expression. He loved seeing you like this; hair disheveled, cheeks stained with tears and mouth agape, unable to form a complete sentence. The only sounds leaving your mouth were moans each time he pushed into you deeper. Your neck and shoulders had a trail of small bruises; his favorite way to claim and mark you. You were the most beautiful sight he ever saw in his life. You could feel the base of him rubbing over your oversensitive clit. You moaned into his neck, digging your nails into his shoulders, adding to the litter of scars you already marked him with. “F-fuck daddy s-s-so sensitive. C-c-an’t”.

Still fucking into you, Bucky moved from the wall, dropping you onto the bed. His body caged you, face dark with pure lust and adoration. Throwing both legs over his shoulders, as he hit a new angle that made you see stars. You could already feel a new high build up causing you to sob into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Can’t?” He mocked your tone. “You sure you can’t give me one more baby?” Picking up his pace, Bucky was relentless, his animalistic primal urges completely taking over his brain. His thrusts unfaltering as he drove you further into the mattress. “Come on babydoll, just give me one more, need you to cum around my cock so bad, one more time, please baby please” Bucky’s dominance started faltering as he started to feel your walls clench around him.

Your hands gripped tightly onto his biceps, clawing up them, trying to ground yourself as you felt right on the edge. Bucky trailed kisses from your neck, focused on how your chest bounced with each thrust. “So fucking beautiful, could look at this all day” He moved down to pull your nipple into his mouth, giving it a harsh tug. It sent another wave of pleasure over you, causing your walls to flutter, slick further drenching his cock. “I can feel you milking me baby, come on, let go. I got you baby, let go, cum for me y/n, baby please, need this so bad, want to feel you” 

That was all it took, his words caused your walls to flutter uncontrollably, your clit throbbing as you felt waves and waves of euphoria wash over you. “BUCKY FUCKK”.  You looked beautiful beneath him, every moan leaving your lips making his cock leak with arousal. His pace grew sloppy as he fucked you through your high, now starting to chase his own. “Fuck yessss baby, say my fucking name, feel so good when you cum around my cock. Love when you make such a mess on me, keep squeezing me y/n feels so fucking good oh fuck m’ not gonna last long baby girl” Bucky sobbed into your shoulder, your walls pulling him in deeper, tightening making it almost difficult for him to move.

“Fill me up daddy, please, feels so good B-Bucky” You were completely fucked out, floating in and out of consciousness, wanting nothing more than to feel him fill you up. You needed him just as bad. You pulled him down, nipping at his lips, giving him sloppy kisses all over his face. You let your tongue slip in between his lips swallowing his moans as his arms gave in and he let his body collapse onto you. Your words had an indescribable effect on him.

“Don’t say that unless you want it baby, you want my cum? You need me- shit, need me to fill you up? You like when d-daddy- fuck gives you all his cum, keep you so full for d-days?”

“Please daddy, pleaseplease”

“Please what baby, tell daddy what you want, say it”

“Need your cum in me, fuck please Bucky!”

“Fuck baby, m so close, love cumming in this pussy, you love when I cum in you baby? You love feeling me fill you up till your dripping and making a mess? Don’t even know if this sweet tight pussy can handle it baby, God theres so much fucking cum, I can feel it” You nodded, sucking onto his neck, marking him “Greedy c-cumslut, you’re f-f-fucking mine. Always. Fucking. Mine” Bucky could feel his heavy balls aching, tightening as it slapped against your soaked core. A warm feeling of ecstasy tingled through his spine, travelling through his body, his cock throbbing, desperate to release. 

“Might just have to get you pregnant, fuck, you’d look so fucking beautiful carrying my babies” Oh you liked that. You fucking loved it. Bucky’s words caused you to cry out pulling him even closer. Even in your fucked out state, you definitely heard what he said.  Bucky could feel your arousal gush around him, your body now clinging onto him with a vice like grip. “You want that baby? You want my babies? Baby m’ gonna cum” “Fuck yes Bucky please, give me your babies daddy, need it so bad” You moved your legs to wrap around his waist, digging your heels into him, forcing him deeper into you.

He moaned at the feeling of your legs wrapping around him, his metal arm gripping the head board allowing him to speed up his pace. "I'm gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, m’ gonna fucking cu- FUUCCKKK” Bucky bit down hard onto your neck to keep from roaring out, the grip he had on the headboard caused it to crack and splinter above you while his other hand tore the sheets he was gripping onto.  You could feel his cock swell, hot spurts of white cum burst though his sensitive head, spilling out of you as he continued to gently rock his hips into you, whimpering . “So much cum baby, still fucking cumming, you feel so g-good y/n take it baby, know you always take it so well”.

Bucky stilled in his moments, nuzzling against your neck, placing gentle kisses on all the bruises that now covered your neck and shoulders. “You okay bubs?” He pushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear while softly caressing your forehead. You nodded, hardly able to speak but the blissed out expression you had on your face told Bucky all he needed to know.

He got up and went to turn on the shower, making sure it was at the exact temperature you liked before picking you up and carrying you over. Both of you stood under the hot water, letting the steam relax your muscles. The scent of lavender filled the shower as Bucky poured some shower gel onto a washcloth, massaging your back and shoulders. You took your time placing little kisses over the scarred tissue where his metal arm met his body. After you both cleaned up, you wrapped yourself around Bucky, clinging onto him like a koala bear as he picked you up, setting you down onto the bed, covering both of you with the soft sheets.

Back at the compound

“I think they’re done. Its quiet now” Steve made his way up to the surveillance room again, hoping to see you and Bucky with clothes on.

“Alright, lets go see” Tony began to follow Steve, and saw Peter pale as ever, still looking like he saw a ghost as he shakily got up from the chair. “Not you Spiderling, you stay there. Cover your ears or watch tiktoks or something”

As they walked into the room, the scene on the screen was yet again not something they expected to see.

“Can we stay like this?” Waves of sleep washed over you, cuddled up on Bucky’s chest, his metal arm tracing mindless shapes onto the soft skin on your hips.

“I could stay like this forever with you baby girl, I love you” Bucky pressed soft kisses onto your forehead and nose. You nuzzled against his warm body, inhaling his soft scent as you fought sleep, trying to stay awake for as long as you could with the love of your life. Bucky noticed your squirming. “Go to sleep bubba, its been a long day” His fingers made their way to your hair, gently massaging down from your scalp to your neck.

“Don’t want to” you mumbled into his neck, hitching your leg over his torso him so you could pull yourself impossibly closer to him. “This is the first time we got to spend together alone without having to hide from anyone. I want to be awake for every single minute”

“You know, we could just tell everyone and you could move into my room. Been over a year of pretending, I don’t like not being able to kiss you whenever I want,” You looked up to see Bucky pouting down at you. “You’ve been so patient with me, taking everything at my pace. I want to whole world to know you’re mine, that I love you”.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, rolling both of you over as he now laid on top of you. “I knew from the day you sat with me in the bar and asked if I preferred to be called James or Bucky, you were special” He nuzzled his nose against yours, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. “Every time you sneak into my room to help me with my nightmares, I hope the sun doesn’t rise so I can hold you for longer. I can’t describe the happiness I feel when I’m with you; I want to be able to do this all the time”

“Are you sure Buck? You’d want me to move into your room with you? You know this also means no more sneaking around on secret dates” “More than sure doll, need everyone *kiss* to know *kiss *you belong to me *kiss*”

“Okay, they are adorable” Wanda gushed as she watched you and Bucky fall asleep, blissfully unaware that anyone had heard or seen the last few hours together. Nat blushed seeing her friend unbelievably happy, protected in the arms of someone that clearly loved her more than anyone else. The shy demeanor you had around everyone else was non-existent with Bucky.

“I have to admit, they make a good pair. Didn’t think Barnes or y/l/n had it in them. Guess you have to always watch out for the quiet ones,” Tony grinned, genuinely happy you both found happiness in each other. “Maybe we should soundproof the walls in tin mans room if they’re going to move in together. Actually I’ll do it now so he doesn’t suspect anything. You okay there cap?”

Steve’s eyes were glassy hearing how happy and in love Bucky was with you. His best friend deserved it after all he had been through and the fact that you were the one to give him happiness made warmth spread through his chest. He was so happy he brought you to the team. Bucky’s stoic expression disappeared entirely. They had never seen him so gentle as he cuddled into you while you slept. For the first time, the team saw him look at peace.

***

Bucky thought he would have to convince Steve to delay sending the jet to pick them, surprised when Steve easily agreed. “No problem Buck, actually the jet might arrive later than anticipated, that’s okay with you and y/n right?”

“Yeah that’s fine, thanks punk”  *call disconnected* Steve smirked, purposely sending the jet a day later than necessary. He would have no problem with sending the jet a week later if it meant you both got to spend some time together. “Steve sounded….happy” Bucky looked confused as he placed his phone back on the table, walking back over to the bed where you were wrapped under the sheets. His dog tags hung around your neck, your hair spread on the pillow like a halo. You skin glowed as the sun crept through the curtains, you looked like an angel. His angel. “That’s good right? Come here and cuddle me” You made grabby hands towards Bucky as he flopped onto the bed trapping you under him. “Oof- get off me you big baby” You giggled and Bucky nuzzled his face into your bare chest, wrapping his arms around you. “No. m’ comfy just like this” Bucky grinned up at you peppering kisses along your jaw. “It’s good, just odd. He’s usually trying to get me back as soon as possible, especially when Hydra is involved”.

***

As you both exited the jet, making your way back to the compound you wondered how the team would react to you and Bucky getting together. There wasn’t anyone that would oppose the relationship but you were not sure how to explain that you had already been together for a year. You spoke to Bucky the very same day Tony happily welcomed you to join the team.

Flash back 2 years ago

Tony looked for any reason to throw a party and after seeing you on the field, he figured it was a good enough reason to celebrate. Parties made you anxious so you quietly made your way to the bar where another figure sat. He was handsome; different from what you had seen plastered all over the world a few years ago. His long hair was cut short, the previous silver arm from Hydra replaced with dark gunmetal grey and gold vibrainium. He was dressed in a plain black t-shirt that stretched across his chest and arms along with his dark jeans that hugged his legs nicely. What should have been a quick glance was turning into staring as you struggled to tear your eyes off him.

Bucky sat, nursing a glass of whisky. He looked over to you, surprised that you had chosen to sit at the bar as well instead of getting your drink and leaving. You fumbled with your fingers, realizing that he had seen you. You didn’t want to make it obvious you were just silently staring at him, quickly thinking of something to say.

“Hi” You smiled, feeling the heat travel through your cheeks and down your neck. “I’m y/n”.

“Ah, so the welcome party is for you.  I’m James; some of my friends call me Bucky though”.

“Well what do you prefer to be called?”

Your consideration for what he would prefer. It was so small. So simple. People always assumed he went by Bucky. But the fact that you bothered to ask which name he preferred brought up a new feeling he didn’t know existed. He felt his cheeks flush.

“You can call me Bucky, doll”.  

 Bucky found himself frequently bumping into you in the same places he’d go to have some quiet time to himself. Usually he wasn’t a fan when there was someone else present but he didn’t mind when it was you. You didn’t try to pry him with questions or invade his space. You also enjoyed sharing quiet time with Bucky. There was a mutual understanding between you both, filled with shy smiles and blushes.

Things took a turn one night when you woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a crash. You heard thrashing coming from Bucky’s room and found your feet working faster than your mind. You knew he had nightmares but you were not sure he’d want anyone to see him when he was so vulnerable. The thought of him having to go through all those nights alone made your heart ache. Your heart raced as you stood in front of Bucky’s door; the thrashing stopped but you could now hear soft sobs coming from inside. You gently knocked on his door. “Bucky?” No answer. Again, your body was acting faster than your mind as you quietly opened the door and slipped into his room.

Bucky was on the floor, the sheets thrown off the bed. A picture of him in his army uniform from 1940 thrown across the room, glass shattered on the floor. He had his head buried between his knees, his fingers tugging at his hair as he tried to ground himself from another nightmare. You carefully made your way towards him, dropping to your knees in front of him. There was no second thinking as you pulled his hands away, wrapping your arms around him so you could cradle him to your chest. You placed a soft kiss on his hairline, gently rubbing his back in small circles and rocking him to calm him down.

“Shhh, its okay” You moved your hand to cup his cheek, making him look at you. “You’re safe Bucky”. Your thumbs wiped away the tears that kept spilling.

“So many of them” Bucky’s voice cracked as he spoke between sobs. “I killed so many of them and none of them deserved it. I’m a fucking monster”. He buried his face into your neck letting his tears fall onto your t-shirt as he continued to cry.

“That was never you Bucky” You felt your own eyes stinging with tears threatening to spill out. You held him tighter, your voice growing shaky as you continued to speak “No one gave you a choice then. Look at all the lives you saved when you were free to make choices again Buck”. You stood up, gently pulling Bucky to get up and lay on the bed instead. Bucky was exhausted; he feared the images that plagued his mind as soon as he let sleep take over. He looked up at you; his eyes filled with torment, the dark circles underneath showing it had been ages since he slept in peace.

“You don’t have to talk about anything. I can stay with you till you fall asleep. Come here, lay down”.

Bucky reluctantly got up, too tired to argue and tell you it wasn’t necessary because he didn’t want to bother you. He secretly hoped you would stay; you were the one person he knew he could be silently comfortable around. You sat up on his bed against the head board. As he put his head on the pillow, he felt your hands gently touch his hair. He started to feel his eyelids grow heavy. “Are you okay with me touching you? You can tell me if it makes you uncomfortable”. Bucky shook his head, leaning into your touch. He shifted over, moving so his head was now resting on your lap. You felt your heart flutter, gently running your fingers through his soft hair, the simple action lulling him to sleep.

Bucky’s sores filled the room as you continued to gently massage his head. Happy he had fallen asleep, you wondered if you should leave. He didn’t seem to mind you helping sleep again but you were not sure he’d be comfortable with you staying the whole night. You started to shift until you felt a tug at your wrist and saw Bucky looking up at you like a lost puppy. “Stay…please?” You could felt your heart melt, his soft eyes looking up at you hopefully. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable Bucky, are you sure?”

“I want you to stay”.

 Present

You both entered the shared living room; Bucky gently squeezed your hand, knowing you were feeling nervous. You huffed a sigh of relief seeing it was empty, continuing down to the elevators making your way up to the floor you shared with Steve and Bucky. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Bucky pulled you close smashing his lips against yours, pressing you against the wall. Bucky’s mind had been racing ever since he asked you to move into his living space. He couldn’t wait to have you all to himself, to hold you when he slept and wake up to you. His hand gripped your waist as the other gripped the back of your neck, lightly pulling your hair. You smirked, enjoying the gentle burn with each tug, letting his tongue slip through, snaking your hands under his shirt clawing your nails down his back.

“God babydoll you have no idea what you do to me” Bucky groaned, breaking away from your lips momentarily for air. “Can’t wait to have you in my bed every single night, your gonna be bent over every surface while I rail you from behind. I’ll get to fuck you to sleep, keep you full with my cum all night and wake you up with my face between your legs”. You whimpered arousal soaking through your panties as Bucky kept whispering filth, sucking little bruises down your neck. He pushed your legs apart, his thigh pressing onto your aching core.

The ding of the elevator reaching your floor broke you both out of your lust filled trace. Bucky tapped the side of your thigh “Jump”. You wrapped your legs around him; Bucky wasted no time carrying you over to his room, ready to have his way with y-

“What are you guys doing in here?”

Bucky saw Tony, Steve and Sam squirreling around his room with measuring tape. The three whipped their heads around, eyes wide. Tony wasn’t bluffing when he suggested sound proofing the walls; he got Steve and Sam to help him measure the room before having anything installed. They caught a glance of Bucky carrying you before he had set you down beside him, pretending nothing happened.

“I own the compound Barnes, technically all the rooms are my rooms”

“Fine, but why are these two with you? And what were you measuring?”

“I was…” Tony panicked, deciding the change the subject. “Why were you carrying y/n?” Tony smirked wiggling his eyebrows, watching as you hid your face into Bucky’s arm. Bucky felt the blush warm his cheeks. He was excited for everyone to know but he didn’t wasn’t sure how to explain anything on the spot and the growing tightness in his pants wasn’t helping. 

“Uh I wasn’t… she was tired from the mission and you didn’t answer my question”

“I FAINTED” Steve panicked, hoping his outburst out distract Bucky from the fact that they were in his room. He didn’t exactly think anything through. “You?  fainted? In my room?” Bucky looked at Steve as if he suddenly grew a second head.

“Yeah Frozone, you fainted?” Tony glared at Steve, wondering how the hell this man managed to carry the shield for this long if this is how he responded to pressure. “Will you shut up” Sam grumbled to Steve under his breath.

“Yeah, sorry pal. Came looking for something, thought I might have left it in your room. Tony and Sam came to help. Turns out it wasn’t there” Steve’s face was the same shade of red as the day he saw you in Bucky’s motel room. He could think on his toes on missions but this was different, he didn’t know how to lie to his best friend.

“Then when did you faint-”

Tony and Sam mentally face palmed. Tony couldn’t decide which risk was worse: allowing Steve to continue with his train wreck of a lie or to just tell Bucky the truth. “Actually Cap we can take it from here, show Barnes the new surveillance equipment since he was away when we tested it”

Steve nodded; relieved he could change the subject as he walked a confused Bucky down the hall over to the room.   

“Y’know, when you guys went offline for 12 hours, we were all worried about you both. The whole team sat for hours waiting to hear from you. Can’t tell you how relieved I was when I finally saw you were okay”

“You always worry,” Bucky smiled to himself, then frowning when he remembered something “how did you know y/n wasn’t in her room? And what do you mean saw, you just called me on the phone punk” “Uh……..yes. I meant heard. When I heard from you” Steve opened the door to the room the team was gathered in the day before, blood draining from his face when he saw the live feed hadn’t stopped even after you were both safe at the compound. Tony still hadn’t figured how to switch it off but managed to create an AI that controlled the entire building. Unbelievable. Tony and Sam made their way over to ensure Steve didn’t attempt to pull anything else out of America’s Ass. Bucky walked over to the screen frowning as he noticed the room it was showing looked familiar. “Wait. Isn’t this my motel room?”

“Huh. Would you look at that? So it is. Tony how did that happen?”  Steve looked at Tony and Sam, eyeing the door, planning his escape.

“How long has this been streaming for?” 

“uh………” Steve dashed out the room. Tony and Sam could figure this out on their own.

On the bottom of the screen read: live for 46h 15m 9s. You had only been at the Motel for about a day and a half….

“When did this start recording?” Sam looked at Bucky, then Tony then back to Bucky before running out the door to follow Steve.

“See, we didn’t hear from you for over 12 hours, so I did what any great leader would do and checked on you to make sure you were okay” “Huh” “Just a few cameras to have eyes on you in case something happened. You should be thanking me Barnes” Tony already started tip toeing backwards slowing making his way to the door before Bucky connected the dots.

“When did this start recording” “I can say with confidence, you have a nice ass Barnes!” Tony dashed out the room,

 “STARK!!”

Thank you @buckies-dolle wouldn't have written anything without you <3

[luveline]

currently thinking about sitting on ur bed with steve, and ur making him a friendship bracelet and u keep having to measure it over his wrist to see if it’s long enough yet. he would treasure that bracelet forever and ever.

this idea was so sweet it made me happy

Steve's in charge of music while your hands are busy. He plays top forty and you don't mind, humming along as the bracelet in your hand grows longer. The start taped to your baseboard, the two of you sit at the end of the bed, knees touching, the desk fan breezing a sweet relief through the humidity. 

"Can I have your wrist?" you ask him. 

"It's done?" he asks. 

"Not really. Just wanna see how much I gotta do. Here." 

You take his wrist into your hand and guide it up to the bracelet. It's only three quarters around, made up of colours you thought he might like; an orangey yellow, white and red, twined together with a terrible concentration. 

"You're gonna make that wrinkle permanent," he says, pulling his hand back. 

"What wrinkle?" 

"This one," he says. He draws a line between your eyebrows with the pad of his index finger, lightly and then less, as if trying to rub it away.

You bat his hand. "Shut up. You're older. If anyone's gonna get wrinkles it's you." 

"You're fucking ageist."

"I'm not fucking anybody."

"Shut up, leave me alone. Finish my bracelet." 

"You're so mean," you mutter, fingers sliding over threads, weaving one under another. 

The song changes and Steve leaps away from you to turn it up, fingers pinching the dial more intensely than he needs to. It's a girly dance song that make you laugh, especially when Steve starts to sing along. 

He doesn't try very hard but he's passionate and you love that, giggles making it hard to join in with him. He raises his eyebrows at you and his shoulders move from side to side in a half dance. 

He meanders towards you and takes your hands from your threading, pulling your arms, one then the other in time with the beat. 

"Steve." 

"Don't be a wet hankie." 

"You just told me to finish the bracelet!" 

"Dance intermission," he declares, bending so you're the same height. 

You indulge him and dance along even when it's a little awkward, your hands boiling hot in his, his smile blinding. For the last chorus he drops his grip and does a dramatic guitar solo that has you groaning. 

"You're embarrassing!" you declare, hands back on the friendship bracelet. "Stop doing that. Come here so I can measure you again." 

He trudges forward reluctantly, head thrown back and neck bared. He's hot when he sulks. Not that you notice. You grab at his fingers and pull him forward until you can wrap the bracelet around his wrist and measure it. It's long enough. You grin. 

"Is it finally done?" he asks. 

"I'd love to see you make one." 

He flops down on the bed behind you, stretched out on his back. "I'll make you one. You gotta teach me." 

You finish up the loose ends and peel off the tape, staring at it in your plam, extremely pleased with your efforts and the result. It's only a simple pattern, seven floss wide. It's nice. 

"Alright, Stevie, get ready," you say, turning on your knees to face him. 

He looks at you through pretty dark lashes in a way you might say was coy if you didn't know better.  

"Ready since the day I was born." 

"Uh-huh." 

You wrap the friendship bracelet around his wrist, careful not to touch him too much until you have to tie it closed. He has nice wrists, his veins stark ridges up his arm. You feel a warm flush come over you when you catch yourself thinking about them, hands trembling almost imperceptibly with your rush. 

Steve flicks your wrist gently. "You're shaking." 

"I'm tired from all the hard work," you say offhandedly. 

He throws his arm up between you, brandishing the bracelet as if it's made of solid gold. "It looks amazing." 

"Yeah?" you ask, a sliver of insecurity. 

"Are you kidding? It's cool. So cool. I don't get how you made it with string and nothing else." 

"You don't have to wear it-" you start. 

Steve cuts you off. "Shut up. I'll wear it. It's sick. I'm gonna wear it until it falls off, and then you have to make me another one." 

He drops his hand, turning to you and giving you a huge smile. You smile back, your happiness amplified by a thousand when he grabs your arm and gives you a good shake. 

"Thanks, bub." 

"You're welcome," you say, eyes on his fingers, how they pinch your skin. "Don't mention it." 

His hand slides up the length of your arm. "Wanna teach me how?" 

"You'll give up halfway through." 

"Maybe. Show me anyways." 

You're not in the habit of denying him anything he wants, so you teach him how to make the bracelet, and it's straggly and sometimes the pattern doesn't translate cleanly, but he finishes it. When he ties it around your wrists, every point of contact tingles. 

[ken-dom]

Did I Dream That?

Holland March x gn!reader

Summary: Holland had a great time last night. You were amazing, apparently.

Warnings/content: nsfw, oral (reader receiving - gender neutral), cream pie, alcohol, smoking

‘Mmhph,’ Holland mumbled into your chest as his eyes slowly blinked open. His eyelids were still heavy and felt as though they were glued together, so he gave up and just squinted at you through one. ‘You were amazing last night.’

You’d been awake combing your fingers through his messy hair for the past hour, watching him snore and drool onto your chest, wondering what he was smiling at in his dreams.

‘Why, what did I do last night?’

Holland chuckled, rounding off his soft laughter with a dreamy sigh. ‘You know…’

‘No? I really don’t… I came to bed to find you here passed out already, took your suit off and tucked you in… but I wouldn’t call that amazing, Holland, I do that frequently. Frankly, it was amazing that you’d actually made it into bed for once.’

‘Nooo,’ Holland moaned playfully, lifting his head and regretting it immediately when a painful stream of sharp sunlight hit his eye. ‘After that! I was awake and we… we made love!’ Always one for upholding an air of romance, he whispered the last two words as though they were dirty.

You laughed, shaking your head. ‘I promise you we didn’t.’

‘We didn’t?’

‘Let’s see. I watched a movie that you snored through, then I switched the lamp off, laid down and went to sleep. I woke up an hour ago and you were still unconscious.’

‘No?!’ he gasped.

‘Holland, we didn’t make love, I swear it.’

‘Oh shit! Did I dream that?!’

You smiled, shifting down to place a tender kiss at his sweaty forehead. ‘Yeah. I think so, baby.’

‘Jesus Christ… did I…’ he lifted the covers and tilted his head to peer beneath them. You bent your head under the sheets too, wondering what on earth he was looking for. ‘I didn’t. Phew! That would have been embarrassing.’

You realised he was checking to see if he’d actually had an orgasm in his sleep. You’d seen Holland cum in his trousers just from your teasing before, make a mess of the bathroom at a house party he’d dragged you to for a case (those poor towels), get hard at the most inappropriate times… but this would have been embarrassing?

You laughed again, and he joined you this time, although you weren’t sure he actually understood what you were laughing at.

‘I’m sorry. I should really make it up to you. You’ve missed out… you deserve the climax you had in my dream. Come here-’

He leaned in to kiss you, the taste of last nights alcohol filling your mouth and the faint smell of cigarette smoke combined with his cologne filling your nose.

It was an intense kiss, breathing him in, taking his eager tongue into your mouth, his moustache pricking at your face.

It was like drowning in him, and you felt arousal stirring between your thighs fast.

He pushed a knee between your legs and rolled you over so he was on top of you, resting between your legs, and began taking his time trailing wet kisses down your throat, over your collar bone and to your chest.

‘Mmm that feels nice,’ you breathed, stretching under the weight of him.

‘Wait until you see what I did in my dream,’ he smirked as he moved his lips over your belly and lower.

Your back arched as his tongue began to work it’s magic.

‘H-Holland- oh!’

Pleasure washed over you in a seamless haze again and again, and you wondered when he would come up for air (or need a cigarette), but he just carried on as you came and came and came again on his tongue and fingers, your own fingers wound tightly in his hair beneath the sheet and your thighs clamped around his head.

He did stop eventually though, not least because he had leaked so much precum onto the bedsheet it was becoming uncomfortable to stay down there much longer.

He came up to face you again, his moustache wet and sticky, and kissed you fiercely as he slid his throbbing cock inside, snapping his hips hard until he shuddered, filling you up.

‘UGHhhh!’ he groaned as the force of his release ripped through him and you clenched around him, finding release again.

His forehead fell onto yours, and as he caught his breath, you held him close.

‘Good as your dream?’ you panted when he rolled off you and flopped onto the pillows.

But Holland was rendered speechless — you supposed he had put his tongue through a work out after all — but he nodded and whined as he lit a cigarette. Considering he’d only climaxed once, he looked absolutely beat.

‘Don’t wanna get up. I wanna stay here all day,’ he mumbled.

‘Well, it’s only eight am. Holly’s at Janet’s-’

‘Jessica’s.’

‘Jessica’s,’ you corrected yourself, ‘so, we could spare another hour… maybe in the shower?’

His eyes popped open and he instantly dropped his cigarette into the ashtray on the bedside table to dive onto you again, accidentally banging his head against the headboard in the process.

Not appearing to have noticed his head bump, he grinned down at you wickedly before climbing off the bed and holding his hand out to you.

‘Hey, look at that. I just needed motivation.’

[tiredfox64]

I had an idea, I don't know how good this sounds but in the beginning of the MK1 story when the Lin Kuei trio attack Madame Bo's restaurant as an act to text Raiden and Kung Lao skills, the reader happens to be there as a traveler who also has fighting skills and fights off Smoke and finds out it's a test by Liu Kang who accepts being one of earthrealm's champions but has a hard time trusting Smoke after what happen and Smoke does everything he can to gain her trust?

Trust Me

Prior notes: Halfway through writing this the Ninja Storm theme song played in my head nonstop. I got distracted for an hour just listening to almost all the Power Rangers theme songs Σ(￣。￣ﾉ)ﾉ

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: A few kicks and punches, we got those from our siblings.

You travel high and low, far and wide. The lands must be explored and experienced. Your current location? Fengjian Village in China. Quite a peaceful village actually with farmlands that stretch for many miles. You decided to rest for a moment at the tea house. Madame Bo was really nice to you, happy to have a lovely lady like you come in.

Little did you know that she was expecting you.

Lots of different people and personalities around here. You got a show as well. Two men fighting just to figure out who is paying tonight. It must have been serious because they were fighting for their lives. You can understand since the food was amazing.

The sun had set and the cool breeze blew through the tea house. You were finishing up your meal at the same time those two men were about to. In an instant the atmosphere became hostile. You looked up to see a man with silvery hair and gray attire harassing Madame Bo. You watched carefully, wary of this guy’s intentions. You jumped into action once you saw him attack Madame Bo and literally throw her over the balcony.

His eyes turned to you when he saw you running towards him. You were surprised by the smoke bomb he threw down. It made you cough which gave him the opportunity to attack you, causing you to hit the floor.

“You are brave, but against us? You are in over your head.” He mocked you.

“I don’t care who you are or what your purpose is. You will not be a nuisance to Madame Bo.” You declared before fighting him.

You fought viciously, as anyone would suspect. This guy had a few tricks up his sleeve. Magic that you’ve never seen before. Yet you stood your ground. While you were dealing with him those other two guys were fighting off the other assassins. Oh great there are two more who got some sort of freaky magic. Well at least they are taking care of that.

An amazing spectacle of kicking, punching, and slashing was performed by you and your opponent. After all that you managed to defeat him, leaving him lying on the ground. You moved quickly to check on Madame Bo who was…fine. No, really, she was. Standing up straight and smoking a cigarette like it was a normal Tuesday night. A man with glowing eyes approached you and you finally got the answers you needed.

This was all a test from Lord Liu Kang. You, Raiden, and Kung Lao were chosen to join Earthrealm’s champions. Liu Kang was thankful that you chose to visit Fengjian now since it made things easier.

He explained that the people who attacked were the Lin Kuei and that you fought Tomas aka Smoke. They weren’t thugs but were actually a clan that helped protect Earthrealm. You were still in shock about the whole thing. You couldn’t let your guard down fully even if you now know it was a test.

Liu Kang told you all that the Wu Shi Acadamy will help train you and prepare for the Mortal Kombat tournament. Looks like you will be staying in China for longer than you expected.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Ever since Tomas fought you he has been dying to talk to you. He thought you did amazing. He really didn’t know what to expect since you were just a traveler. No one had a clue who trained you or even why you were so good at fighting. You must have been a quick thinker since you manage to figure out he was using smoke magic.

The problem is that you were cold to him. You still didn’t trust him even after finding out it was all a test. He would visit the Wu Shi Academy just to get a chance to talk to you, only for you to move away from him whenever you saw a hint of his silvery hair.

Raiden and Kung Lao told you to not hold it over his head. Madame Bo is safe. Hell, she was even in the Lin Kuei once, she’s a tough woman. Nope, you’re still not budging.

“I don’t understand, Raiden. She still treats me like some thug.” Tomas expresses his frustration to Raiden who wants to help make peace between you two.

“It probably didn’t feel good to her to be tricked like that. It may be best to prove to her that she can trust you.” Raiden gave back the best advice he could give.

“But what can I do if I can’t even get close to her.”

Raiden had to think for a moment. The others such as Kung Lao, Johnny, and Kenshi all came around as well since they heard Tomas’ frustration. They didn’t want him feeling bad about what he did since he was instructed to cause a disturbance at the tea house. They also don’t want you holding a grudge against a sweet and cool guy like Tomas.

“I got it!” Kung Lao snapped his fingers, “How about you train with us for some time. She will see that you aren’t so bad after all especially when she sees how calm you are when fighting us. Maybe giving her a gift once in a while will help as well.”

Not a bad plan. It could work. Tomas was on board with this. He didn’t want you viewing him as some thug anymore. You need to see who he truly is and he will do anything to prove it. Operation make you trust Tomas is a go go!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Tomas asked his brother if it was okay to train with the Shaolin for a bit. Bi-Han couldn’t give two fucks where Tomas would be at so he let him do that.

Now you really couldn’t avoid Tomas. Anytime you decided to train with the other champions he was always there. You grew annoyed by his presence. You couldn’t understand why no one else was upset by that trick of a test.

You also couldn’t understand why he was leaving you bunches of lavender and peace lilies. Okay well the peace lilies should have been a big sign but you weren’t the biggest expert on flowers or their meanings. He would leave them at your door, on your chair, he would even have the guys pass you the flowers just to make sure you would accept them.

And after some time you did. It would be a waste if you kept throwing them out. They were lovely and lavender is useful. You didn’t fully trust him yet but his efforts were chipping away at your stubborn heart.

You started watched as he trained with the others. All those fighting moves you saw before when you fought him. The aggression you felt before when seeing those moves slowly started to fade. You watched as he patiently taught the others some tricks on how to defend themselves. Not just that but he was open to being taught as well. The monks taught him new moves and involved him in meditation. Now would a violent person meditate? Nope, because Tomas is not the violent person you think he is.

You realized maybe you were being a bit too harsh when you heard him speak. His voice was less deeper than when you first heard it. It was just an impression anyways. And without his mask on there is no muffle to it. You listened to how disappointed he was, concerned that you still don’t trust him. He expressed that he is doing his best but he fears that you will always see him as the bad guy.

It broke your heart when you realized you misjudged him. He was putting in a lot of effort and you were turning a blind eye to it before. You don’t know how long he will be training with the Wu Shi and you don’t want to regret not saying anything to him. You want to make things right and the best way to do that was to talk to him.

One day you found him near the zen gardens. A place of relaxation and peace. A good atmosphere for something like this. He was meditating all by himself and you were unsure about disturbing him. He already heard your footsteps, you can’t sneak up on a sneaky person. He turned towards you expecting to see someone like Raiden or Johnny. But no, it was actually you. He was shocked and wasn’t sure what you were doing here. You gently waved towards him before speaking.

“Hi…do you mind if I join you?” You asked softly.

Tomas just stared for a good five seconds before breaking out of his trace. “O-oh yeah sure.”

You thanked him before walking closer. You surprised him even more when you described to sit next to him. Both your hearts were beating fast. Yours because you were unsure of what to say and his because of the same thing. You took a few deep breaths before speaking up.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been kind of cold to you. Maybe even been avoiding you. I just kept thinking back to that night at the tea house and I just thought you were the same guy I fought back then.”

You saying sorry was already the highlight of Tomas’ day. Before he can say anything to you, even to apologize for fighting you, you continued.

“You don’t have to apologize for what happened. I understand it was just a test and no one really got hurt. Well, maybe not physically but I did hurt you by being mean.”

You were picking at your fingers as you looked down at your lap. Now you wondered if he thought of you as the bad person. He doesn’t, he never did.

“We got off on the wrong foot and I want to make it right. Maybe you and I can train one of these days if you are willing to spend time with me.”

“Yes! Yes! Of course I would love to.” Tomas got too excited and covered his mouth, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the garden anymore.

You looked at him all shocked before chuckling quietly. He really was desperate to show you that he is trustworthy. Seeing that it all paid off was too great for him that he had to express it. How could you ever imagine he was some cruel man who purposely beats up old ladies?

Your chuckle made him feel less embarrassed and happy to see you loosen up around him. You seem way chiller than he imagined. He’s excited to get to know you more now. You took his hand into yours and shook it.

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Smoke.”

He smiled at you. The mission was a success. All of this was worth it.

“The pleasure is all mine. But please, call me Tomas.”

After notes: It’s a bad time for me to find out that my favorite show is free on YouTube. Mhm I’m gonna be blasting that good shit on my tv. Anyways I hope you enjoy whoever requested it. I actually thought about this scenario a bit ago but never wrote it down and forgot about it. So looks like you read my mind. Trust me it sounded good to me :3. Adiós!

[theosmommy1966]

Idrk where this came from.. it was just a thought and then three hours later.. here it is i guess. Snape in my head in this is Adam Driver. So yeah. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears were ringing, not for the first time you were thankful to always have your own locker room. Being the only woman on a college hockey team came with a list of problems, so you were happy to have one less. The guys would just come pound on the door and be obnoxious as shit to let you know they were ready. Normally you would roll your eyes and laugh while joining them, today Pansy was pushing past Daph and Hermione to get to the door. 

Theodore being the tallest without skates on could easily see you quickly trying to braid your hair, only to start crying again as Hermione took over quickly. War was raging in him as he elbowed Mattheo who then felt the same way. They both wanted into the locker room. Both angry at whoever or whatever it is that has made you cry, but both also want to wipe your tears and comfort you. 

Pansy pulled the door shut and sighed, “Just.. I dont know.. I cant really tell you. But just take it easy on her, if shes struggling dont be dicks about it.. I dont know. This is kinda fucked.” Just as Draco went to ask what was wrong, the door flew open and you walked out gear ready besides your helmet needing clipped and you were chewing on your mouthpiece in anger. Your cheeks and eyes were red but you no longer looked sad. In the two minutes between the door opening and closing you had switched into anger. 

Anger the guys could work with. If you were mad, they could channel mad. Coach Sev could tell when your skates first hit the ice that it would be a rough game. It always amazed him how the mood of one player could set the mood for an entire team. True hockey fans could tell by the way someone skated where their mental state was. The way the team's blades sliced through the ice gave their fans goosebumps. Warm ups started as the other team hit the ice as well. Mattheo watched as your eyes followed their players, in one way he wasn't surprised. Your boyfriend was on the other team, went to a different college. What did surprise him was the way you watched for him. With a cold calculation in your eyes as you spun your stick in your hands, still chewing on your mouth guard. He needed to make sure you actually kept it in your mouth during the game. 

He was shocked, because this guy had been a rough patch in your friendship. Mattheo and Theodore hated the guy, the way he put you down but in a subtle way that you never seemed to catch. Saying how you were a good hockey player.. For a girl.. Theo was quieter in his annoyance, where Matt was not. Quiet was not a verb used to describe him.. Ever. It had caused dirty looks and small arguments, but he would never let anything come in between you. Even if it meant biting his cheek until it bled, or simply not being around when you were with him. 

As Captain he stood back watching everyone warm up, doing his own rounds while everyone stretches. Theo, his boyfriend and co captain glided up next to him looking towards you as well. They both silently watched as you and your boyfriend, Jacob, skated up to each other. They couldn't hear what was said but they could see his face. A smug smile, the kind you would give your girl right before you tell her how your teams gonna beat hers. It stayed for a few seconds, then it faltered, then it fell. “God I wish I knew what she said.” Mattheo said watching you skate backwards into line for warm ups. 

Your anger hadnt lessened at all when your eyes found Jake. Pansy had crashed in just as you were finishing up your laces, anger clear on her face before it fell into sadness. Without saying anything she shoved her phone into your hand. Your ears started ringing after the second video. The first one was Jake making out with some girl, the second was him telling his teammates how you were as shitty in bed as you were on the ice. That he was ready to be done because he wasn't getting any game changing secrets out of you anyways. 

There were a few more after that.. And pictures.. So many fucking pictures. Your heart broke so fast and so hard. The guys had been worried about this, how many times had Draco told you how stupid you were. Theo and Mattheo telling you that they just don't see why he would all of a sudden be interested in you just because of hockey. They swore you had a million better reasons to be interesting and he wasn't interested in any of them. Matt had told you that he talked shit about you, that he was constantly degrading. Blaise tried to be supportive, he wasn't rude to your face. But you knew he agreed. Enzo was the only one of your little group that told you he just wanted you to be happy. 

Just as quickly though you got mad. Mad didnt even cover it really, your skin was crawling. You thought people saying their blood was boiling was just an expression, but you could feel it. You wanted to claw at yourself to release some of this pressure. You were sweating and you knew if Hermione redid your braid one more time that you would snap at her and that wasn't fair. The chilly air hit your lungs and you drew in every bit you could. This was your happy place, where you had thrived since childhood. Sure your mom wishes you would have done figure skating, but your dad was thrilled. He never missed an opportunity to tell people about his daughter who plays hockey. 

For Jacob to insult your skills on the ice in any way was a joke. There was never a year from mites all the way to now in college where his stats were better than yours. He was just jealous, and now he would see the real hockey player in you. When his eyes connected with yours from his tunnel he smiled at you in a way that twenty minutes ago probably would have made you melt. Now all you see is condescension. It took everything for you to not just blurt it out. You let him flirt for a minute, tell you how he would make you feel better when you lost.

 Gag. 

You could feel the guys eyes on you, you knew it was time to get back. So you leaned in with a smile on your face like you were going in for a quick kiss. Just before his lips could touch yours you pulled back just a little. “Something crazy to think about.. Babe… By the end of this game.. the whole team will know you cheated on me… not only my team.. which is bad enough.” You chuckled as you pulled back enough to see his pale cheeks. “But imagine, Harry.. Ron.. Fred.. George.. Oliver.. They all love me too..” Somehow it was like Neville the sound man just knew what to play, because as soon as you pushed off to skate back to your team ‘...Ready for it. By Taylor Swift’ came on and you smiled meanly. “Good Luck.” 

You ignored your two best friends as you lined up, you ignored them again when you were waiting your turn and sent a hard puck right into the back of your soon to be exs knee. Snape hollered your name from the bench and gave you that look you hated. The guy wasnt even 10 years older than you, but he carried the authority and knowledge of an old man so whatever. Then it was time to line up, one of the guys had been hurt so you ended up in a defensemen position instead of forward where you normally were. Being one of the faster skaters and having great stick handling skills showed that was your niche. But you were tall for a girl. Standing at 5`11 without skates with a broad build that was strong but still soft in areas like the thighs so you were an ok fill in. 

Mattheo was the other first string defensemen, Draco was center, Theo and Enzo on either wing. Jacob was a first string forward, it couldn't have worked out better. You'd have to get Goyle some candy when he felt better. You were surprised at how well you were playing and keeping track of where your real target was. Mattheo kept trying to set up to be the one who would have to go after him, but you kept getting in his way. 

Everyone besides the girls gasped in surprise and shock when Jacob started to skate down the ice with the puck only to be roughly checked into the glass by you. Regulus, your kinda uncle, who was a few years older than you, was one of the refs. He came over to escort you to the penalty box when you whispered a quick low down on what he had done. Reggie nodded then winked when he closed the door to the penalty box. Just a moment later, Reggies friend Barty, the other ref knocked on the glass and winked. 

They both knew you were getting ejected from the game. That you were coming out of the box swinging. You had started to calm down just a tad bit. The cold air and the physical exertion are starting to help. That is until you hear a high pitched voice scream Jacob's name. When you turn your eyes lock with one of the girls from the videos. The girl from last night at his house party. The one you didn't go to for obvious reasons. When she did her little finger wave and smirked everything went fuzzy.

 The outsides of your vision was blurry as your eyes watched the clock and the ice. You just prayed Jacob was out when your time was up. Your ears were ringing as Jacob was called off the bench, 3 seconds left. The attendant, an older gentleman who worked with the athletics department chuckled as he prepped to open the door. He had seen this many times, sure never from this perspective, but he had daughters and he knew how they would react.

“Go get him a tiger.” 

You didn't even know where the puck was when your blade cut through the first slice of ice. You knew Mattheo was on the bench and Theodore was on the other side of the ice. Maybe ten strong strides across the arena. 6 before you dropped your stick. 3 before your gloves are off. 1 before your fist connected with his jaw. As you grabbed his jersey and used what every bit of strength you had to slam him back into the glass. In his shock he didn't realize that he was falling and you were swinging again.  

In another moment of perfect coincidence, you're right in front of your family's seats. Theodore Sr, Lucius, and your father are all standing up and cheering while banging their fists on the glass. Your mother has her mouth covered with her hands while Bellatrix and Cissy stand on their seats leaning to hold onto shoulders and watch. You hear someone come up behind you, you know its not a ref but they never even get the chance to grab at you. Theos flies past you and slams someone from the other team into the ice. 

Now you can hear Snape screaming curse words at you all as the bench clears. Reggie and Barty are both standing off to the side, eyes wide in pretend shock as they pretend to decide who's going where. Your mind momentarily slips away from beating Jacobs face in, but it snaps back into perfect clarity when his glove connects with the bottom of your jaw. You lose your grip in shock, which in some way is stupid. When you fall backwards and your helmet connects with the ice, the stadium falls silent. This had been the moment the entire college hockey league had been waiting for. How would it be handled, because while you were a woman, you had joined the team, and started the fight. 

In the silence, from the other team's bench, you hear Coach Black's voice. “KICK HIS ASS L/N!” More gasps followed as Neville changed the big screens to a video of Jacob saying you were a shitty player. Jacob tried to scramble up as half of his own teams heads snapped to him. Needless he knew now that he wasnt leaving the ice without getting his ass beat at least once more. Looking up towards the reporters box you could see Ginny and Neville leaning out and cheering for you. 

Alot of people were going to be getting in trouble after this game, but it didnt seem like anyone cared. It was a perfect moment of unity and unsportsmanlike conduct as people took their turns with Jacob before Regulus and Barty decided they would lose their jobs if they let it go any longer. While both teams skated off the guys all cheered for you and gave you pats on your back. Theo and Matt walked you to your locker room, you could tell they both wanted to say something. 

Matt looked like he was constipated, the look he only got when he was trying to figure out how to talk about his feelings. He wanted to tell you to stop looking for someone who would love you more than him and Theo did. That there would never be two people who cared more, or knew you better than they did. That they knew it was unconventional and that people would talk, but they wanted to be with you. They couldn't go without you anymore. 

Just as you whisper his name his brain short circuits and when it starts working again his lips are already on yours. His hands holding your cheeks as he memorizes how your lips feel just in case he never gets to do this again. When he pulls back he almost doesn't want to open his eyes, scared of what he will see. But all he sees is awe and confusion as you look from him to your other best friend.. His boyfriend.. Who you now think he just cheated on, right in front of.. 

Shit.

[piratefishmama]

You're writing is godly. Can you take a shot at

09.  “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.”

Writing Prompts | No longer accepting new prompts

It was the first time in ten years that Steve Harrington had seen Eddie Munson in person, and it was from what felt like miles away in shitty seats up on the balconies, the only saving grace was that Eddie was being tracked like prey by the camera guys, each step, each sway of his hair, each manic, dimpled, toothy grin blown up larger than life on the big screens on either side of the stage. The rest of the band blown up on the ones in the back.

He wasn’t looking at the ones in the back, although the guys suited being up there.

“Steve… he’s uh… Eddie I mean, corroded coffin, they’re playing, y’know? In Indy? Dustin got tickets, but… well they’re not the best tickets, nothing VIP or close to the pit or anything, I don’t think Eddie even knows Dustin’s going, but… we could at least go and see him perform…” it’d been Robin that’d mentioned it, none of them had seen Eddie in person.

He kept in touch when he could with Dustin and his little adventurers, Lucas, Mike, and Erica. But he’d left Hawkins behind with nothing there to hold him back.

There could have been.

Steve knew there could have been, Eddie had told him the night before he’d packed his stuff and left, bore his heart to him in his backyard, hair haloed by the blue light that shimmered off of the pool, nervous but hopeful, he’d offered his heart on a silver platter and Steve… god…

He hadn’t known.

He hadn’t known just how much Eddie meant to him until he was gone, off to stardom with his band, leaving a possible life behind for something else. Could have, should have, would have, it made no difference in the end. Steve had said no when he really meant he needed time to work out his feelings, he’d shut down the possibility before it could grow, and had regretted it ever since.

Eddie had been gone by the following morning, he’d only said goodbye to the kids. Apparently there’d been a record deal offered at his last gig, and his choice depended entirely on whether or not Steve said yes.

Part of him wished he’d have been selfish, part of him wished he’d known his own heart before he’d stupidly let the rejection slip out, things would have been different… but then… Eddie wouldn’t have had this.

He wouldn’t have had a stage, an audience of thousands cheering for him in awe. He would’ve been stuck, in Hawkins, a place that still hated him… Steve was happy for him, truly. Happy that he’d made it, even if it meant Steve could never have him. He could stomp around the stage dressed in denim and leather and shred on a guitar in a way that made Steve’s ears ring but his heart happy, he’d never be tied down to a place that hated him.

He'd never be stuck where the past could haunt him. He could be happy even if Steve couldn’t.

The gig was amazing though, even if Steve stook out like a sore thumb, he’d done his best, wore a little eyeliner, mussed up his hair, he wore Eddie’s old battle vest with the blood stains still visible cause he’d never been able to get them out and Eddie had never taken it back, had seen Steve still had it after they’d won and claimed “it looks better on you anyway” he still looked like someone’s out of place dad, but he was surrounded by the party so, it didn’t matter. Nobody was paying attention to him, nobody was looking for him, Eddie wouldn’t see him from so far away, probably couldn’t even see the row in front of his face with the lights shining on him so brightly.

And yet near the end of the concert, while the band were wrapping up on their final song (before the inevitable encore the audience demanded of them, Dustin claimed it’d probably wind up being Upside Down, or Pariah, two songs he’d always claimed had been inspired by ‘his past’ from the bands last album, they were fan favourites.) A burly guy dressed in a black crew neck with a big white ‘SECURITY’ stretched over his broad chest, flagged him down.

Steve motioned to his ears, he couldn’t hear shit over the music, and could barely hear shit on a regular day, but that particular security guard, simply signed the words:

‘Not in trouble, come with me.’ confidently, as if he knew Steve would understand it. Only when Steve frowned in confusion and signed back

‘why’ did the guy thrust his thumb over into the stage’s direction. The band.

Steve, feeling suspicious, turned to look toward the party, only to find Dustin giving him a thumbs up, and Robin making shoo motions with her hands. Scheming little shits knew he wouldn’t think twice about attending if the seats were so far away. Would think it was safe, that he wouldn’t have to face Eddie. Face his terrible decision that worked out for one of them but not the other.

He wouldn’t have to find himself waiting backstage in a quiet room behind a door labelled ‘Talent’ because of course he’d go. His traitorous legs and heart would force him to go at the mere chance of seeing Eddie again, of seeing him up close, of talking to him, of the chance to fix a mistake he’d made years ago even if his new answer wouldn’t change anything between them. It’d been too long, Eddie wouldn’t still want him when he could have anyone.

If they had told him, he wouldn’t have to see Eddie, quietly (a word not many used to describe the man) enter, his back facing Steve as he closed the door just as quietly as he’d entered. His hair was longer.

The curls fuller, they reached down to his mid-back now and glistened with a mixture of product and sweat, Steve still wanted to touch, still mourned the fact that he’d never gotten the chance to.

“Y’know… When ol Dusty bun said he’d get you here… I wish I’d have believed him. I owe him 20 bucks now.”

“You bet on me coming?” Of course he did.

Eddie turned to face him, a small wistful smile on his cheeks that just hinted the presence of dimples. “Wouldn’t you if you were in my place? Steeeeve Harrington, at a metal concert? Pfft, seems a bit farfetched. You even dressed up too, shit, man, I guess that’s forty bucks. Vest still suits you more.” Steve let his head duck down a little, his cheeks warming under the mans gaze, unsure of the feeling within it. He didn’t know Eddie anymore…

Had he ever really known Eddie though? Had he ever given them chance to know each other outside of sharing trauma and comparing matching scars?

“…Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why am I back here, Eddie? Why’d you call me back here? Why not the party, they’re here too, they’d probably wanna see you too, it’s been years… why?”

“Ah. Dustin told me to, said I should have another go at something I tried years ago that didn’t pan out very well for me the first time around… has been chatting my ear off about it every time he calls… I guess I finally humoured him.” Something he tried years ago? Involving Steve? “Listen, Steve… I—”

Steve cut in, he shouldn’t have, but words just… had to burst from him driven by a flickering ember of hope, he had to, even if it wasn’t the path Eddie’s words were taking, he had to, with hope driving him on “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.” Eddie’s mouth shut, his head tilting to the side a little in uncertain interest “I didn’t know… I should have just told you, I didn’t… I wasn’t sure, shit, Eddie… I’d never… you—I’d never felt like… like that for a guy before… I didn’t know what it meant, I should have said—I should have told you that I just needed more time… that I wasn’t ready to answer but… but I didn’t want you to leave. I didn’t know you’d be gone by the time I woke up. By the time I realised I was wrong, you were gone.” He wanted time, but his words had come out wrong.

He’d stumbled through them like he stumbled through everything, struggled to get the right words out and they’d wound up wrong. So so very wrong. “And you didn’t think to call?”

“Heh, you were on your way to fame, Eddie and you didn’t exactly leave a number, Dustin told me you had a chance at stardom… why would I want to weigh you down? Where would I fit in in this life of yours, Eddie? I’m no one, you could have anyone.”

“Mmn, anyone. Even if the one I want believes himself to be no one?” Hope burned brighter, its embers brilliant and warm. “So… can I try again? Or was Dustin wrong?”

“Did you make a bet with him about this too?”

“Absolutely, I’d owe him two hundred bucks if he’s right.”

“Would it be worth it if I said try again?”

“God, Sunshine, I’d drain my entire bank account right into that little buttheads pocket without a care in the world if it meant he was right… i never stopped...” Eddie stepped closer, "I never stopped wanting... even though I wished for the longest time that I could stop... it's always been you, Steve..." now close enough to be within reach, his voice quiet but hopeful “so... is he right? Should I try again?”

“…Please try again.” This time… he wouldn’t be saying no.

[bonthefuckjourx]

Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)

   SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.

WARNINGS: n/a

WORD COUNT: 2500k+

N/A: Sorry for taking so long for this chapter! Funnily enough I'm enrolled back at college and I had exams. Yay...

Anyways I hope you all really enjoy this fanfic and please don't be afraid to reblog. I'm not that kind of person that gets mad about that sort of thing. Comments are always nice too! I wonder if some of you have been able to guess what comes next.

CHAPTER FIVE: Delicate

When you woke up you were surrounded by soft fuzzy blankets. You stretched and quickly realized you were not in your room. As you looked around the events of last night started to replay in your head. You pushed the blankets off you and looked around the room for Lucifer. In the background you could hear the running of a shower. You could hear Lucifer singing something soft and you decided to walk towards the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, steam coming from the room. From what you could see he was no longer in the shower, but rather combing through his hair looking into the mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and you quickly turned away from the door. Your heart pounded as you tried to keep yourself from squealing. You felt like a teenager with a crush again. He made you feel so loved and you couldn’t believe he would someone like you attractive. It was at this moment you remembered what he told you last night. His mate? What did he mean?

You decided to wander around as you waited for him to be finished. A floor length mirror caught your attention as you walked into view. Your appearance was slightly different. Black t-shirt and grey sweatpants were on your body instead of your dress from last night. As you looked closer your eyes shown red and fangs adorned your mouth as you smiled. Other than that, you seemed yourself. You couldn’t understand how this could be physically possible as you never knew anyone changing appearance this drastically after entering hell.

“You look beautiful.”

Your eyes caught Lucifer walking up behind you, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist. You twisted in his grip, looking into his eyes searching for any answers. He smiled sympathetically guiding you towards his bed. He sat you on his bed, opting to stand instead of sitting next to you.

“Let me tell you a story.”

You didn’t say anything. Your head still rushed from memories of last night. More than anything you just wanted to understand. Nodding your head, you shifted on the bed wrapping a blanket around you.

“When Earth was created there was Heaven. A place full of magic and wonder and angels. As I’m sure you’ve felt angels have magic. It’s an amazing power, however it is limited. One needs love to fuel it. Because of this, angels were given the gift of mates. A love destined by fate. Ever since childhood angels are told of mates and the wonderful gift they are. They are supposed to be this person your magic sings to. Once mates find each other their bond snaps into place. Their feelings intertwined, and their souls one.

I never found mine. A long time ago I thought Lilith was my mate. We thought that if we had a baby, it would snap it into place. It never did and we grew apart. I have been waiting for centuries to find my person. When we made that deal my magic touched your soul and I just knew. I felt whole. I didn’t tell you; I didn’t know how. A part of me didn’t want to suck you into the battle between Heaven and Hell. Then Charlie recruited you and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop you. The last straw was last night. When you sang, I could feel magic emanating off you. You’re human so I have no idea how this is even happening, but your magic was intoxicating. I thought I could ignore you, but you wanted me to join you. I just wanted to see you smile and be happy, so I sang. At the end of the night your magic wrapped around me. It felt like it was telling me, no showing me how to come home. I just gave in.”

Guiltily Lucifer looked towards you as he stopped pacing. You sat on his bed silent not sure what to even say, processing all the information. As you stared into his eyes your face flushed with embarrassment realizing what he was implicating. You were his and he was yours. Yours above anyone else and you could feel it. You thought this was just a silly crush, something to push away. You really tried, but here and now you understood why your plan never really worked. It was in your chemistry; it was your fate.

“Y/n, please say something.”

Your train of thought was cut short as you heard Lucifer talk. You looked towards him to realize he wasn’t talking at all. Your eyes widened, unsure of what just happened. How?...

“It’s telepathy. Remember I said mates have a bond? Their feelings literally intertwine. They can send feelings, and if the bond is especially strong, thoughts. After we made that deal, and I realized I could feel the bond snap into place. Without knowing it you would constantly send feelings and thoughts down it. Especially when you were upset or anxious. I tried to send thoughts back. Do you remember it?”

You thought about it for a second and suddenly remembered many situations. The feelings of love and warmth. Of home and safety. It was all him…

“Yes, I remember.”

You felt content with his answer. Your hands found it way across your heart as you smiled quietly to yourself recalling the fond memories. Lucifer walked towards you lifting your chin up towards him as he did that very first day. Feelings of love and adoration flooded your mind. His hand was scorched to the touch and made you feel alive. Your eyes softened as tears formed at the sides.

“We’re mates,” you whispered to him.

“Yes.”

He dropped his hand from under your chin as he sat next to you. His hand wrapped around yours, giving it a squeeze.

“Will you accept me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a choice you know. You don’t have to choose me.”

His voice was almost hoarse as he spoke. His heart broke at the idea of you denying him, but it was your choice. His love was apparent by telling you as much. Your voice stuck in your throat as you weren’t sure what to say. This man next to you, you absolutely adored, but you were hesitant. Nothing this good had ever happened to you. You didn’t know how to accept the good in the world, the good in him. More than anything you were still you. How could you possibly compare to this angelic being? He chalked it up to fate, and deep down you knew he was right. The beginnings of a bond tugged at your chest as all paths led to him. Your mind reached out down the bond trying to find solace. His magic danced around you, calming you quickly. It scared you how easily he could alter your emotions. Your mind retracted back into its cold cavern as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“I’m not saying no, Luci. I’m just saying; I just need time. I need to be able to look you in your eyes and know nothing is holding me back. Right now, I’m overwhelmed and scared as to what the future holds. For me for this realm and for Charlie. Just please tell me you’ll always be here.”

His eyes softened as he looked into your hurtful eyes. You felt guilty but all he did was open his arms. You fell right into them curling up into his lap with one of his fuzzy blankets. His arms wrapped around you as your mind flooded with sweet nothings. Tears fell onto his shirt as you listened to the rhythm of his heart. His hand brushed through your hair as he stared down at you with adoring eyes. You weren’t quite ready yet, but you knew with his unconditional love it wouldn’t be long. As you sniffled you twisted your head to look up at him. He was so attractive it was all you could think about. His eyes widened as he stopped breathing momentarily. When he blinked his eyes suddenly changed to a shape of crimson. Your face heated as you realized he could feel your thought. Shock turned into happiness as he smiled and hugged you closer.

“We will have to do something about your new features however if you want to keep this our little secret.”

Your hand reached up to feel your fangs you forgot were there. Secretly you loved your new look. Magic washed over you, your pentagram glowing as Lucifer cast a spell on you.

“There now no one will be able to tell. Except you of course. No one can trick their own mind by glamouring their appearance.”

“What about you?” Circles were traced on his chest as you savored his touch.

“Yes, I’ll still be able to see your true self. Mates cannot hide from one another.”

A smile spread across your face. You really thought you could love him, love this. It was illogical, but you wanted him to always be aware of your changes. To remember the love that could await the two of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before too long you two decided it would be best to not make Charlie worry. Lucifer conjured up some of your clothes for you to wear. You walked out of the bathroom holding his clothes, reluctantly giving them back to him. He seemed to understand and with a snap of his fingers the clothes disappeared.

“There, they will be waiting for you in your room.”

Embarrassed you muttered a small thank you as he chuckled quietly to himself. His wings unfurled beckoning you closer. Curiously you brushed your fingertips across the arch of one of them. A small moan escaped Lucifer’s mouth as he closed his eyes, breath hitching. Quickly he gripped your wrist, being careful not to hurt you.

“Don’t. Not unless you are planning to accept us within the next two minutes. I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Your stomach dropped as you felt excitement deep within. Your core blazed at the thoughts. You retracted your hand as you swallowed not being able to take your gaze off him. The flight to the hotel was quiet as you tried your best to keep these thoughts from him. You weren’t very successful. His mind entangled yours whispering promises for future advances. Before long he set you down outside the lobby, being thankful you had something to take your mind off him. The bell to the front doors dinged as you both walked in. Feet sounded down the stairs as Charlie ran towards you.

“Y/n! I wrote to the head Seraphim, and they are letting us have a meeting. In Heaven! Come on pack up we leave in an hour.”

Her presence was fleeting. You were excited to see Heaven, but as you made to go up to your room to pack a handheld you back.

“Y/n I can’t stop you, but I don’t want them to hurt you like they did me. Please just be careful, I need you to come back to me…”

“Oh Luci… I’ll always come back to you. It’s only for one meeting where Charlie will probably do all the talking. I really want to help her; she’s come so far. I’m proud of her and I know you are too. Just trust me to help her, okay?”

“Yea okay.”

With that he brought you into a hug. He let go, but his mind did not. Curling itself around you, making you feel safe. Your face glowed as you smiled at him, fangs apparent. You turned before you wouldn’t be able to anymore and went upstairs to pack. Within the next hour, like Charlie said, you two were leaving for the pearly gates of Heaven.

“This proves nothing! Obviously if he was meant to get into Heaven he would be here.”

Adam’s voice aggravated you as he argued his point to the council. Charlie tried to show them that Angel Dust is truly a good person, but they were blind to the truth. Just when you thought Charlie was arguing her point, they ripped the rug out from under her. She looked defeated as she stared into Sera’s eyes, trying to have them understand. Emily looked empathetic, but what little power she had wasn’t enough to sway the room. Soon angels were talking to each other, unsure who’s side to take.

“Enough! I understand your point Charlie, but Adam is right. If souls were meant to be in Heaven, they would already be here.”

“That’s not right! Your exterminators kill my people, and we are just supposed to sit back and take it. There are some good souls in hell, and I know I can help other people see the light. Just give us some time I’m sure you’ll be able to see-“

“This soul with you, is she righteous?”

Charlie looked towards the angel speaking. He floated down from above Sera and her council. His hair was light brown and curled around his head. His halo glowed a warm golden color as it cast his face in a beautiful light. His voice was siren-like and intoxicating. Charlie couldn’t take her eyes off him, but realizing he asked a question she looked back at you.

“Y-yes, I know she is. I’m not even sure why she’s in hell.”

She swallowed unsure of where this was going.

“Then let me see for myself. I’ll let this soul stay with me for one week. If by the end she proves herself to be a righteous soul indeed then we will entertain more souls coming into Heaven.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped as she enthusiastically started nodding her head.

“Of course! She won’t disappoint she’s the best sinner I’ve come to know.” Nervously she looked back at you looking for reassurance. It was change and it scared you to no end, but you could endure for one week. You would do it for her. The angel looked to you beckoning you closer.

“And what is this soul called?”

“Y/n.”

His eyes blazed to life, and he looked down into yours. There was a fire behind them that was ethereal and blinding at the same time. Power emanated off him and it pounded into your head. He was much taller than you and had the build of a Greek god. Looking at him, you wondered if this is who they thought of. You shifted under his gaze as he walked around you, taking you in. You felt very weak by his side, but as he rounded to face you again a little bit of courage bubbled to the surface.

“Who are you?”

A smirk formed on his face as he held out his hand for you to take it. He felt dangerous and you were hesitant to take it. You looked back at Charlie, horror growing on her face as she was shocked into place. With new resolve for your found family, you stepped forward and accepted his hand. He led you forward placing his other hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the council hall.

“Michael, Archangel Michael.”

[accio-sriracha]

Jily Micro-Fic.

Prompt: Glasses

~~~♤~~~

James felt his breath catch as Lily Evans sat directly next to him at breakfast.

This had been an on and off event.

Most days she sat across from him, sending him small smiles and engaging in conversation with all of their now combined friends.

But then there were mornings like this.

Mornings she plopped down into the seat beside him, looking irritated and so completely exausted.

She didn't speak much these days, but James could feel her reactions, like a shift in her energy. And Godrick was he so in tune with her.

Every once in a while their shoulders would press together and neither of them would pull away. He waited, amazed with thrills of anticipation shooting through him. And she stayed, leaning against him as though she needed him for support.

It was especially her bad days that she sat directly next to him.

It didn't even matter who was on her other side, he was the constant.

He tried not to spin too many theories about what it could mean.

And today being one of those days, he waited for the moment their shoulders would touch, for the moment he could feel that thrill he'd been waiting half of his lifetime for.

But it didn't happen.

He felt a different sort of pressure on his shoulder that made him freeze.

Every cell in his body screaming, his lungs refusing to draw in a breath for fear of moving her.

She was resting her head on his shoulder.

She melted into him, like the action was familiar and comforting to her.

And he let her stay there for what felt like ages.

He had no idea what his expression must have looked like, but he was dimly aware of the amused smiles he received from their friends.

He couldn't bring himself to care.

Evans, Lily Evans, was laying on his shoulder.

After a particularly loud portion of conversation- which James could only participate in with stiff nods- Lily finally leaned away again, yawning and stretching her arms over her head.

Oh Merlin.

She'd fallen asleep on him.

He felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"James?" Her quiet voice immediately drew him in and he turned, a reply to Remus' question dying on his tongue. It was rare she called him anything but Potter.

"Lily?" He tried the name, loving the way it felt to say out loud.

"I think I'm in love with you."

And just like that, his world was resting in her palms.

He couldn't pretend it wasn't always, but he definitely couldn't deny it now as he stared, wide-eyed and gaping at this girl, this beautiful girl that he loved ever so much.

"You do?" He whispered.

She nodded, "And I'd really like it if you would kiss me right about now."

A slow smile graced her face and he was struck. Struck with the need to have her in his arms, to hold her close to him and never let her go.

He waited a moment longer, searching her eyes to make sure she was certain.

When he found nothing but earnestness in their emerald color, he did.

He held her face between his hands, kissing her with every bit of love he could manage to pour into it.

They kissed for a long time, he couldn't even begin to guess how long, before she giggled quietly against his lips.

His glasses had slid down his nose, bumping against her cheeks.

He pulled away just long enough to tear them off his face, not caring where they landed as he tossed them on the table and pulled her back to deepen the kiss.

Her hands found themselves in his hair and his around her waist.

When they finally broke apart they stayed there for a while longer, leaning their foreheads against each other, breathing in every little detail they could.

"I love you, Lily Evans." He whispered.

She beamed up at him, "I know."

And nothing could break this moment, nothing could enter this little world they placed themselves in.

Nothing until Sirius cleared his throat,

"Uh... Prongs? You dropped your glasses in the oatmeal."

He exhaled a shaky laugh, leaning his head on her shoulder.

She laughed too, holding him close and running her hands along his back.

It would seem sudden to others, they knew that, but the space between them had been shifting for a long time now, and James was grateful to finally have the chance to hold her the way he'd always imagined.

In a world with every kind of flower imaginable, he could only ever see her.

Well, until he needed to clean off his glasses. He really couldn't see without those.

~~~♤~~~

[lulusbabygirl]

Do you have any tips on how I can be more girly like you?

Thank you 🥺 this made me happy (and turned on) that other girls are looking to me for tips on how to be a better girl!!

1: Embrace your natural femininity. So many fakeboys have shoved their natural feminine traits down so much they can forget they’re there. Remember, you were socialized to be a girl for sooo many years and you can’t run away from that!!

2: Voice train!! It’s not just for trans fems, we shouldn’t have to have a male voice either!! You’re still a girl even if your voice is deep but passing as a girl again would be so amazing right??

3: Shave any masculine hair. If you have some hair that women usually have it’s okay, even though I love a fully shaved body, but shave off alll that gross masculine hair. It’ll make you feel so much prettier right??

4: Talk like a bimbo! Even if you want to have a more traditional feminine look, I think having a cutesy speech pattern is sooo adorable and girly!! Use multiples of punctuation, use cute emoji, and pay attention to how men talk and avoid sounding like them!

5: Play with your pussy everyday! I think paying attention to the part that separates you from real men the most is sooo important. Get big fat dildos to stretch out your vagina, play with your clit rubbing it in circles, get a clit sucker!! I love my clit sucker and I can’t cum any other way. You should be edging your pussy to stay a girl for longer, and if you’re able to fight the post orgasm clarity please don’t try to be a boy after you cum! Remember, it’s not good for you to be a boy even if you’re dysphoric.

6. Misgender and “deadname” yourself and find others to do it! Hearing your birth name and female pronouns will turn you on and also slowly fix you! Your boy name and male pronouns should be forgotten eventually. Just keep building up until you don’t respond to he/him or your boy name ever again! Btw anon if you want to tell me your real name I would love to hear it! Anyone who needs their real name exposed I want to hear it!

7: Watch sissy hypnosis or porn made for women. That stuff makes me feel so girly it’s crazy. I love when I open a video and it immediately knows what I am. I recently watched a gangbang video with my girlfriend and the whole video was talking about us being gangbanged and showing all these beautiful women on screen!! All I could think about it how much more I look like those girls compared to the superior men. It made me crave detransition more than anything has lately and I’ve been thinking about it all the time since I watched it~!!

8: Most obviously, wear makeup, grow your hair out, wear women’s clothes, and get off T. I know it’s easier said than done and you can fight me on it but it really is the way to go. I haven’t been able to get myself to stop hormones but I’m really trying and that’s all we can ever do! You just need to realize that you’re 100% supposed to be a girl and you need to stop making stupid decisions for yourself. Finding an owner who wants to detransition you is such a good idea!! It helps so much to have a rational person in your life who can guide you and push you to be who you were meant to be, a beautiful woman!!

I think I ran out of tips but if you have any more questions never hesitate to ask! I love helping other women find their true path and it makes me so happy that fakeboys can look up to me. Anyone who’s reading this and and wants to detransition you can do it!! You’re a beautiful woman and you deserve to see it too!!!